Woodstock
This scene that plays out nearly every Tuesday and Thursday at the Thompson Senior Center in Woodstock, and nearly every Friday at the town’s Norman Williams Public Library. Mahjong, a game that is centuries or decades old (depending on the retelling), has a devoted following in Woodstock bolstered by the many (mostly) retired women who play multiple times a week.
Last month, I had the opportunity to spend a few afternoons with the players to learn more about the game. I was drawn to the group because of their dedication — three times a week, for multiple hours each day — and had planned on a straight story about the game and what draws people to it.
Instead, the more hours I spent with the group, the more I came to realize that the players’ personalities and competitive natures outshine the beautiful tiles that they play with.
What has been created in Woodstock is more than a gaming group. It’s a community of (mostly) women from all different backgrounds who were brought together by their love for mahjong and who are sustained by their devotion to one another.
“We have had the best time,” said Gail Lavin Stickney, of Woodstock, who helps organize the games and was my guide when I attended.
The group follows the rules of the National Mah Jongg League, which releases a new rule card each year that features all the combinations of tiles players can have to get mahjong. Each player starts out with 13 tiles. Through picking up new tiles or trading with others, players create the runs, deciding on which one in the guide to go for based on the pieces they have in their possession.
Similar to Scrabble, players keep their tiles turned away from the group on individual racks. The first player to complete a run calls out, “mahjong,” and if the play is in accordance with the rules, wins the game.
“It’s a game of chance,” Stickeny told me during our first meeting at the library.
Fridays are typically for beginners, but more experienced players also attend.
“It’s just a fun game to play,” said Phyllis Bulmer, of Bridgewater, who also enjoys the game for the social aspect. “They’re my best friends.”
Competitive Nature
No matter how mindful, most of us harbor misconceptions going into a new situation. When I went to senior center on a Tuesday afternoon last month for a game, I was expecting a quiet afternoon with low conversation and encouraging phrases. And while there was some of that, there was also a good deal of good-natured trash talking and laughter.
I watched over Stickney’s shoulder as she was joined at the square card table by Bulmer, Kathy Kjerulff, of South Woodstock, and Karen Purviance, of Woodstock. Two other tables are set up in the room, with four people at each one. While mahjong can be played in groups of three and even two, four is the preferred number.
The tiles are pushed out into the center and the group begins to pass the pieces. The conversation slows as each member of the table organizes and rearranges their tiles.
“Close, but no banana,” Purviance said as the exchange takes place. “There’s no second place in mahjong.”
Sometimes, they get caught up in conversation and lose track of where they are.
“If I had a nickel for every time I had to stop to see what we were doing…,” Stickney said, before Kjerulff interjected with, “That’s part of the fun.”
There are interjections of “Oh, dear” as they continue to pass the tiles.
“I am getting the worst stuff,” Kjerulff said.
“That means you’re getting what I’m passing,” Stickney replied.
“I’ve seen all these before,” Bulmer said receiving other tiles.
Stickney eventually ends up with the pieces she started with. “All of these things switch and I have nothing.”
“These are worthless,” Purviance said. “You gave them to me before.”
I quickly learn that the most valuable tiles in the game are jokers, which act as a wildcard and can be which tile a player needs.
“We all want them,” Stickney explained, then pointed at her rack. “You see I have none.”
Kjerulff learned to play mahjong when she lived in Seattle and quickly fell in love with the came.
“I’m obsessed,” she said.
“I’m not obsessed,” Bulmer said in response.
“Are you kidding me?” Kjerulff replied. “You’re addicted.”
Stickney wins the first round.
“Skill, unbelievable skill,” she said to her opponents before turning to me. “It’s all about luck. The cards play themselves. It’s such a game of chance.”
The next game quickly begins.
“All right, let’s find some jokers here please,” Stickney said.
Purviance expressed her desire for tiles that are flowers.
“Oh my,” Stickney chided. “What a tragedy.”
Kjerulff wins the second match and it’s onto the third game. Purviance wins the third game and then Bulmer leaves. Jim Howe, one of the few men who plays with the group, steps in to take her place at the table. Immediately the banter begins again.
“What these?” Stickney asks Kjerulff after she passes her tiles. “These are terrible. Don’t you feel guilty?”
It’s hard not to laugh. I am learning that when someone says sorry in mahjong, they really aren’t. Well, maybe a little bit. But not entirely.
“Thief,” Howe said about some of pieces he was given.
“Your graciousness is overwhelming,” Stickney replied.
“What’s that over there?” Jim’s wife, Jean Howe, calls from another table. “They’re not letting you win, Jim?”
Jim Howe learned to play mahjong after Jean Howe got into the game.
“We voted and said ‘yes, he could come play with us,’ ” Kjerulff explained, adding “and he’s been the bane of our existence ever since.”
Jim Howe responds to this with a mock frown.
“We like to give him a hard time,” Kjerulff said.
“We like to give everyone a hard time,” Stickney continued. “Can’t you tell?”
What I can tell is that playing mahjong with this group is a wonderful way to spend a few hours a few afternoons a week. The atmosphere is relaxed and joyful. The game is simple to learn but challenging to master. The play is friendly and competitive. Kjerulff shared that it’s not unusual for them to play past the allotted hours at the senior center, as they lose themselves in the game and conversation.
Learning to Play
On a Friday last month, I attended a beginner lesson at the library, meeting up with Stickney and other players who are working to improve their skills.
Prior to the game, I encounter Devon Laycox, who summers in Bridgewater and is excited to learn that a group regularly meets to play mahjong.
“It saved me,” she said, recalling a move to California.
Mahjong opened a social circle, bringing people of all different ages and background together. “It’s like an addiction. It’s really funny how people get so into mahjong.”
We’re joined by Susan Robertson and Christine Donleavy, both of Woodstock, Gina McAllister, of Reading, Vt., and Linka Lewis, of South Strafford.
“I tried bridge right after I retired and it was too much,” Robertson said.
There’s a lot to learn with both bridge and mahjong, but she found mahjong more enjoyable.
“It gives you a little bit of a challenge,” Donleavy said. “Challenge, without being over the top.”
The Friday group is a little quieter and the pace a little slower.
“You are going to learn from me?” Stickney greeted me when she arrived. “Good luck.”
But actually, it is my good luck to have encountered Stickney who proves patient and lets me in on her jokes. As the tiles are passed out, I learn how to select which run to go after. Initially, it’s difficult to tell which tiles belong to which category, but I’m told that in time I easily will be able to tell them apart.
At one point, Stickney shares that we made the wrong choice for a run, but it’ll be OK. A beat later, I am told we have a mess.
Then, a good tile comes into our possession and I let out an exclamation for which I am quickly reprimanded.
“We don’t do that,” Stickney told me.
I do not, as it turns out, have a very good poker face.
We don’t win the first game, but move onto the next.
“I kind of like it because it’s magical,” McAllister said.
It’s easy to imagine generations of people gathered around tables to play this ancient game. In an age where so many games are played online, we forget what it means to be physically together. Sure, you can talk electronically, but you cannot see facial expressions or offer a comforting touch of the hand while discussing a sick family member. You cannot hold the table steady when someone rises from it, another act of support given without thought, which makes it so special.
And it just goes back to being present. When four people gather to play a game of mahjong, they sit in a square, each side supporting the other as they pass tiles to and fro.
“We’d love to have you,” Stickney told me as I left that Friday. It’s an offer I intend on taking her up on.
Editor’s note: Mahjong is played at 2 p.m. on Tuesdays and Thursdays for established players at the Thompson Senior Center in Woodstock. Beginner lessons are held at 1 p.m. at the Norman Williams Public Library. Email Stickney at glavinstickney@yahoo.com for more information. Liz Sauchelli can be reached at esauchelli@vnews.com or 603-727-3221.
