End of The Mahjong Line…
Earlier this week, we saw three women from Texas, US promoting their online business, The Mahjong Line. There was major controversy surrounding the problematic language used on their website and social media; with the founder, Kate, suggesting how her first Mahjong set didn’t reflect her own ‘personal style and personality’ and that the game needed a ‘respectful refresh’.
The bio on their Instagram page displayed a proud mission statement in ‘bringing Mahjong to the stylish masses’. And with a hefty price point of $425 for a set of tiles, getting your hands on some cultural appropriation doesn’t come cheap! The business raised issues that are tales as old as time, a White-owned business colonising and recreating a traditional Chinese game for their own capitalistic benefit. One of which is steeped in culture and deep-rooted historical significance.
@AlyssaHoWritings stated in her Instagram post ‘For Kate, Bianca and Annie to take a game like Mahjong that means so much to Chinese people and reinvent it to mirror their own style and personality seems exceptionally self-serving. Furthermore, it suggests that the game needed to be re-branded and re-packaged to become trendy, desirable and stylish for, let’s just be honest, white people like themselves.’
“In short, it is white women profiting off a culture that isn’t theirs and with very little acknowledgement, appreciation and understanding of the game as well as Chinese culture.’ @alyssahowritings
The company were seen to have archived posts spotlighting the (non-ESEA) founders and its (non-ESEA) members, taken down their website and have since released a statement on their page claiming that they launched the company with ‘pure intentions and a shared love for the game of American Mahjong which carries rich history here in the United States’. They acknowledge their ‘failure to pay proper homage to the game’s Chinese heritage and using words like ‘refresh’ were hurtful to many’, though we’re yet to see any accountability or real action.
We don’t know the future of the company, though like any instance of cultural appropriation, this sparked off joyful conversation within ESEA communities of memories, stories and anecdotes of families and friends gathering to play Mahjong. We bring to you, our #MahjongMemories collection.
#MahjongMemories
‘Mahjong always reminds me of Christmas when my 婆婆 would give us Christmas money then invite us to come play Mahjong and win it back from me and my uncle. It was hard to be annoyed at her because she’s the sweetest old village lady in the world but she is ruthless on that MJ table.’
Coming from a Chinese background on my mother’s side of the family, Mahjong (unsurprisingly) played a huge part at most family gatherings. Growing up, each visit back to my hometown during Chinese New Year would accompany with it the signature noises made from playing Mahjong. While I didn’t and still don’t know how to play, I always found comfort whenever the noise of mahjong being played flooded the house because it signified a sense of togetherness, joy & contentment between many generations.
Wei Chieh, and their wife, Ae Mi run Kit-Eats, delivering meal kits in London. They are both Malaysian Chinese, living in London with their two kids.
‘I didn't really play much Mahjong until I was in my early 20s when Ae Mi properly reintroduced me to it - my parents didn't approve of Mahjong as they associated it with gambling, so my earliest memories of it were playing it illicitly with my cousins during the Lunar New Year and very loudly declaring "NOT PLAYING FOR MONEY AAH!" whenever my mother so much as looked like she was about to say something. Even then though, growing up in Malaysia it's still everywhere, and I remember stories of the police wandering through neighbourhoods listening for the tell-tale clacking of Mahjong tiles (to be fair to my parents, most Mahjong games WERE played for money, and the police knew that there was a very good chance of squeezing people for bribes - euphemistically referring to them as red packets!). When I started my first job, there was another Chinese guy there - at the time it wasn't easy or cheap to get mahjong sets in the UK, so I convinced my parents to bring a couple of sets over, telling them they were for my friends, and keeping the extra one for myself. Between us, we introduced the game to the others (all non-Chinese) in the office, with Ae Mi joining us, and spent many happy hours playing it after hours. Eventually though, that ended, and with many of our friends returning to Malaysia, the set was packed away to gather dust - it's no fun playing with just two. Now, though, our kids are old enough to grasp the ideas, so I am determined that by the end of lockdown (round about Lunar New Year 2021!) they will be able to play with us, and this time they won't have to worry about declaring the legality of their game!’
Andrew aka @Aitkitchen
‘Mahjong played a big role in meeting new people and developing friends at university and every Christmas, we play Mahjong with my family. I’d also teach lots of my friends how to play and it’s something that I miss a lot! It was such a big part of our friend group that one year, I made Mahjong cheesecake bites!’
‘Whenever we go back to Hong Kong there will always be a day of 2-3 Mahjong tables where all my family on my dads side just play Mahjong for hours and then ends in with a group dinner! The noise of the tile shuffling and watching them feel the tile before it’s visible to then throw it is just so nostalgic. However, all the kids would literally just be sitting in the corner of the room playing on our phones 😂. I wish I knew how to play it just to be a part of the game but there’s too many techniques/rules to remember! When I last went a couple years ago my auntie got the fancy Mahjong table that automatically shuffles and places the tiles in rows for you and I was so amazed!’
‘My Mahjong memory is my nan, mum, uncle and auntie playing in our living room on the rickety fold away table on Christmas eve. My nan was rinsing them all and they were being so loud my 4 year old ass told them to shut up or Santa wouldn't come.’
I’m a Hong Kong/Brit and was just speaking to my friend about the Mahjong craziness coming from those American ladies. I have always known Mahjong to be my Yeh Yeh’s favourite past time and he always has a grin from ear to ear whilst playing VERY loudly! I don’t know how to play Mahjong but would love to learn! A masterclass for us Asian Brits who have missed out on that part of our culture would be so amazing. My dad has been fuming at the whole scandal and he’s gone to dig out his very old but cherished ivory Mahjong set. He doesn’t know how to play either as he spent so much time trying to fit in with English culture whilst going through so many racist experiences and attacks during boarding school here back in the 70s. We would both love to learn! Once I get back to Hong Kong (hopefully in April) I’ll be asking me Yeh Yeh to start teaching me!
@nanosounds
'My Ma taught me Mahjong from a young age, when I just wanted to play with the tiles because they looked pretty. She told me how her father could read what a tile was just by running his thumb over the pattern. I remember when her best friend would hold serious Mahjong nights where we kids were banned from the games room, and had to go watch movies while listening to the ‘clack, clack, clack’ of tiles while the adults played. And let me tell you, just because she's my Ma - she's never taken mercy on me when we've played together!
I also recall when my family lived in Venezuela, I was around 10 years old, my Ma used to play with expatriates and for some reason Dad was drafted into a table, and he was rubbish. So I was just sat in his lap, playing his tiles for him!
More recently, when I first brought out my Mahjong set to a group of friends and they thought we were going to play the tile matching memory game, I don’t blame them, because that’s their experience of the game (i.e. the completely bastardised American computer game), and they were really enthralled when I taught them the basics. It became a solid part of our game nights.’
‘I have never learnt to play but always wanted to. One of my only memories of being in Brunei though was sitting watching my dad play with his siblings and mum for hours and hearing the distinct noise of the tiles and the swooshing as they mixed them all up. I asked for my dad’s Mahjong set a few years ago and he’s kept it for me.’
@wukarlie
‘I love that tiles can have a lot of history and be passed down. Ours used to belong to my uncle's restaurant and was so important to staff socialisation. My mum told me that it was a regular activity for the staff at the restaurant to whip out the Mahjong after work, and one time they played for hours, then went to someone else's house and continued for another few hours to the point she pulled an all nighter. She then dropped me off at nursery before finally sleeping... and the nursery had to ring her and wake her and ask her to pick me up.’
‘Growing up Mahjong meant family, friends, food and laughter. I used to be woken up on a Saturday morning to the sound of the tiles being mixed and loud Cantonese echoing through the house as my mum and aunties (of no relation to me) gossiped while they played. I used to love when it was Mahjong day at my house because everyone brought food. My aunties would bring noodles, homemade dim sum and tong sui (dessert soup) and if they knew a dish was mine or my brother's favourite they would make sure to bring it for us! They never bet a large amount of money but when my mum won she used to give me and my brother her winnings, sometimes a few pounds each. Mahjong isn't just a board game that white people can 'rebrand', it has a huge amount of cultural significance and memories. It is ours and should be respected.’
Mahjong memories in Kuala Lumpur
’The clacking of Mahjong tiles was the soundtrack of my childhood.
When I was about five, my grandmother taught me, my sister and cousins, how to play Mahjong. Using massive old fashioned Mahjong tiles. It was such a delight to ‘mix’ the tiles and making that unmistakable sound. Playing Mahjong became something we always looked forward to when we went to stay.
Every time that I hear the sounds of Mahjong tiles clacking, it instantly triggers memories of home and times when life was simpler.
The Tai-Tais in Kuala Lumpur had a very busy Mahjong circle of which my mum was a very active member. The ladies would take turns hosting, usually with lunch and afternoon tea. You would find 2 or 3 Mahjong tables set up in someone's living room. These sessions would last all afternoon and it was a great social occasion.
They always played the "modern" Taiwanese style which has 3 players and with a lot more flowers than Hong Kong style Mahjong. This made it easy to accumulate points and made the games move really quickly. We carried on that tradition in London by starting our own Mahjong group, doing our bit to keep a slice of our culture alive.’
‘Mahjong reminds me of going to bed during school and on a Tuesday night my mum and her friends would stay up playing and the clacking of the tiles was such a comforting sound to me. I also learnt to play it with my family when my dad was over in Boston receiving cancer treatment, and we as a family played it together over there. It was a tough time but looking back, that was such a fond memory, and one that I’ll probably never experience again. Perhaps that’s why the nostalgia makes it so annoying seeing the game completely bastardised.’
Do you have any #MahjongMemories to share? Feel free to share on Instagram using our hashtag to keep the conversation going, DM us at besea.n on Instagram or email us hello@besean.co.uk to be featured in this collection.