Blogs

Mah jongg is not a game for the faint of heart. I should know. I have the battle scars to prove it.

For one thing, beginners can't just jump into a group of mah jongg players. Every week the clubhouse in our active adult community is filled with women sitting at card tables playing mah jongg. These women have been playing for years and grew up watching their mothers play.

I am not one of those women. My knowledge of mah jongg comes from reading The Joy Luck Club.

I was told, "You have to take lessons."

So Stella took on the task. She agreed to teach me and my friend, Gayle, how to play. For three weeks we went to the clubhouse and Stella patiently explained the rules of the game. The set consists of 152 tiles and four racks. A National Mah Jongg League card issued annually lists 50 combinations of winning hands.

Stella didn't need to look at the card. She had it all memorized in her head. Gayle and I took turns studying her card and looking bewildered. We were trying to figure out the suits. Craks, bams and dots swam around in our minds. Dragons, flowers, winds and jokers, too.

Stella showed us how to build a wall of tiles in front of our racks. We learned the Charleston. Charleston? Isn't that what the flappers did during the Roaring '20s?

Somehow we muddled through. We even won a couple of hands. Most of the time my head was splitting. I needed a long walk or a glass of chardonnay after these lessons.

One week Stella forgot to show up. She knew the card by heart, but she couldn't remember our lessons. This is what happens when your teacher is 90 years old.

Now it was time to join the big league. However, Gayle and I had a problem. We needed to find two more women to play with us. The first two women who sat at our table were beginners just like us. They thought they knew it all.

"Yes, you CAN use a joker in a pair!" No, you can't. My head was splitting again.

Next time an experienced player approached our table hoping to play. She sat down, played one game and then announced, "I can't play with you. You're not fast enough."

Another woman asked, "Do you even know what a hot wall is?" No, we have no clue. She abruptly left.

Finally, Gayle and I found our foursome. All at the same level. Eager to learn. Eager to enjoy.

Maybe too eager.

"Shh," the women at the next table scornfully hissed. "You're making too much noise!"

- Natalie Cinelli

Natalie Cinelli is a freelance writer who has had articles published in the Boston Globe, the Boston Herald and American Baby magazine. She wrote a humor column, "In a Nutshell," for the Suburban News in Reading, Massachusetts. She also worked as a lifestyle editor and columnist for the Lawrence Eagle Tribune in Lawrence, Massachusetts.