The tiles that bind

It’s Friday afternoon and a handful of women are bundled up around a table on Jan Thompson’s back patio. It’s the middle of winter with temps in the high 30s. Chilly, but not unbearably so — and they’ve certainly played in worse.

Between the foursome are stacks of little white tiles, each one imprinted with a red or black design. Bamboo, dots, cracks. The game of mahjong isn’t just about strategy, there’s an entire language behind it, too. Mahjong originated in Shanghai during the 19th Century and continues to delight and challenge modern players with its complexity and group style of play. In its native country, the game is something to wager on, but in this Echo Lake neighborhood the only prize is bragging rights — that is, until next week’s meeting.

Half a dozen Bigfork women have been meeting each Friday for nearly two years to share their lives over a few rounds of mahjong.

“When we play we get serious, but when it’s all over, we laugh a lot,” said group founder Candus Suppelsa. “I think we’ve gotten to know each other so much better by being so regular at doing this.”

They continued to gather over the course of the coronavirus pandemic, but moved their meetings outdoors, forgoing just one session due to a frigid cold snap that plunged temperatures well below freezing. Most Fridays in the winter, they’ll break out blankets — including electric ones — along with fingerless gloves, space heaters and candles to keep warm.

“We used to play inside if it was a little windy or a little wet and now — let’s breathe some fresh air outside any chance we can,” said Suppelsa, adding that the group has weathered temps into the teens and 20s.

So what motivates a group of retired women to brave the cold for a round of mahjong?

Their friendship, for starters.

And of course, the allure of the game.

Suppelsa had the idea to form a mahjong group, having honed her skills in Illinois before relocating to the Bigfork area. Many members of the club were already acquainted and walked regularly around the neighborhood together. But only a couple were mahjong players so Suppelsa enlisted the help of a few friends who came out for a visit to train the rest of the enclave up.

In American mahjong, four players exchange tiles with the objective of completing a 14-tile hand. The first to call out “mahjong” wins. The complexity builds from there, but it all boils down to a combination of luck and strategy.

“Whoever’s winning we try to get them to drink early on,” Suppelsa joked. The snacks and wine are usually reserved after the game or during the final round of play, with the responsibility rotating amongst the players each week.

“It’s a sanity thing; it’s a girls day out kind of thing,” said Guinevere Cummings, of the weekly game time. “I think a lot of us are used to having a fairly busy life with kids and work … and all of a sudden, you’re retired and you have a lot more time. We don’t want to let it just go by, so we’re making the best of it.”

For Jan Lord, afternoons playing mahjong are a cherished social opportunity since she lives alone and many of her standby activities have been on pause because of the virus.

“This is really the lifetline for me,” Lord said.

For Sarah Dakin, the club’s meetings have helped ease her transition into retirement while Jan Thompson enjoys the thrill of pursuing a difficult hand. Suppelsa, too, enjoys the challenge that mahjong presents each and every week.

“I compare it to golf in that you can never conquer it,” she said. “You can always learn something new, there’s always a new challenge … You’re never going to get bored.”