IPOH, Aug 18 — At Jalan Silibin, at the northwest fringe of city, is a little wooden semi-detached house.

It looks almost abandoned, but is in fact home to the sole traditional Indian laundry — also called “dhobi” — still standing in the city.

Said to have been started in 1924, the laundry is still gets customers who send their traditional Indian garments for cleaning in the age-old manner, at a time when modern technology has taken over virtually all aspects of life.

Even its location is a battle against progress. Next to the dhobi is the newly-built carpark of an international school, which took over what was once the open space where freshly laundered clothes were put up to dry.

Despite this, 76-year-old K. Elangovathi told Malay Mail she would not have it any other way.

“My four children do give me pocket money, but nothing beats earning your own income,” Elangovathi said.

Elangovathi said she had inherited the laundry from her late husband, who passed away three years ago.

Along with Elangovathi's sister-in-law T. Susila, 72, the laundry can handle up to five washes daily, or around 50 items of clothes usually made up of sari, dhoti, kurta, Punjabi suits, and curtains.

The two are fourth generation “dhobi wallah” — or laundry workers — whose family entered the trade in India, before migrating to Ipoh over a century ago.

The semi-detached wooden house in Silibin, Ipoh, where K. Elangovathi operates her traditional dhobi business. — Picture by Sylvia Looi
The semi-detached wooden house in Silibin, Ipoh, where K. Elangovathi operates her traditional dhobi business. — Picture by Sylvia Looi

How Silibin became anonymous with ‘dhobi’

The laundry faced an existential crisis recently, following the construction of a car park by the Wesley Methodist School Ipoh (International) nearby.

Heritage tour guide S. Sundralingam said the Silibin area used to be a small settlement where ethnic Indians had converged.

“As Indians wear sari and dhoti that need special washing, it gives rise to the traditional dhobi business,” he told Malay Mail.

He said the Elangovathi’s laundry was near a small stream, making it easier for the laundry operators to fetch water.

“There was also a big piece of land where the operators would sun the garments that they washed,” he said, adding that dhobi operators had been operating at the area since the early 1900s.

It was reported that up until last year, there had been two laundry shops left here. However, the other operator has since closed.

It is understood that the wooden building that houses the laundry is rented from the Ipoh City Council, which leased the adjacent plot to the international school for its carpark.

English daily The Star had previously reported the school’s principal Choong Wai Seng saying the approval was given in October last year to develop the car park that is meant to help ease traffic flow after school hours.

Choong also claimed the area suffered from a ponding issue, and was infested with mosquitoes and snakes.

In response, council secretary Ahmad Munir Ishak confirmed the lease and said the development will not affect the laundry’s operations for now, before conceding that it may still have to move out eventually.

Dried clothes are kept in a room before they are brought out for ironing later. —Picture by Sylvia Looi
Dried clothes are kept in a room before they are brought out for ironing later. —Picture by Sylvia Looi

Why do the Indian community still send its laundry here?

While it is still standing, however, Elangovathi continues on with the hard work. From scrubbing to rinsing, each step takes strength and effort.

Except for an electric iron, which Elangovathi said she inherited from her mother-in-law, everything else takes manual labour.

But even the electric iron gets tiring eventually. While speaking to Malay Mail, Elangovathi wields the heavy iron with one hand and applies it to a dhoti, interspersing her strokes with the occasional spritz of water to help things along. She does this again and again and again, until it is as smooth as she likes.

And this all takes painstaking time.

So, at a time when washing machines are being infused with Artificial Intelligence (AI) promising even whiter whites and ever softer sheets, why do some customers still choose Elangovathi's dhoti?

Elangovathi said that at the end of the day, hand washing remains the most gentle way to launder one's clothes, and for traditional pieces that can be expensive to buy and carry great sentimental value, it is still the best way to preserve the life and quality of the cloth.

“Machine-washed clothing tends to get destroyed after several washings,” she explained.

The soft-spoken septuagenarian said she offers dry-cleaning and normal washing services, charging between RM3 and RM10 per item.

“When customers send their laundry, I will first soak it in water that has been mixed with detergent overnight before washing it the next day and lay it out on the hanger to dry,” she said.

If there are stains, Elangovathi said she would scrub these before soaking in water with a cleaning agent to dissolve any that remain.

“After it is washed, it will be ironed the next day before it is returned to the customers,” she added.

As it is all done by hand, Elangovathi said she typically needs a week to complete each order, although she is able to accommodate the odd rush order within two days.

But without a fifth generation waiting in the wings, however, Elangovathi said that one day, the wait may just be forever.