Dating back to 19th century China, the game of mahjong has had a recent resurgence in the United States. A tile game of chance and strategy that can be compared to rummy or Rummikub, albeit with more fanfare, four players follow a sequence of moves while attempting a specific collection of tiles or mahjong.
It’s hard to play, but harder to learn. Not that that’s stopping anyone. The game has hit a resurgence, especially in the Southern portion of the U.S. Dating back to 2010, articles talk about a mahjong comeback; it’s dubbed the next pickleball.
Multiple dealers have opened within the state, including stores that are dedicated to teaching and bringing people in to play the game.
“If you don’t know what you’re doing, it gets confusing really quick; there’s like a billion rules,” said Erin Glavan. “The first time I tried to learn I did not think I was going to like it but it was actually really fun.”
Glavan, along with Renee Langvardt, host a monthly mahjong night at Happy Hippie, along with weekly pop-in nights for anyone who wants to play.
There is at least one table for those wanting to learn, along with tables of more experienced players, to tables who may have a few questions, but can set up and move on their own.
It’s held the first Friday of each month; Glavan’s sister-in-law, Madison Ring, also helps teach. The lessons are free, but there is a fee for snacks and a drink, while attendees also have the option to purchase their own card.
“We learned together and got obsessed,” she said. “We basically decided we needed to teach more people so we could keep playing.”
It’s a pastime they’ve been hosting for about six months, when Glavan’s mother-in-law hosted an educational night to bring the game to Clay Center.
“She had gotten a lesson from one of her friends and she fell in love with it,” Glavan said. “So she came up to share it because it’s another way to form community. It brings people together who otherwise wouldn’t have met, and no one is using their phone. They’re all talking and playing the game.”
Glavan said she also enjoys that players have to use their brain and strategize, rather than a game that’s based purely on luck.
“Everyone has that reaction like ‘What are you trying to teach me?’ because there are all these little rules and it’s cool to see that lightbulb light up for other people,” she said. “Trust me, if I can get it, you can get it. You can tell they’re kind of proud of learning how to play and it’s fun to watch that happen for them.”
They aren’t the only ones locally playing the game. Since 2021, a group of 10 began playing once a week, playing up to nine games on a single Tuesday afternoon.
“Our friend goes to Texas every winter and she learned how to play down there,” said Dee Frigon, who plays each week. “She taught us how to play and now we do it every Tuesday, sometimes more if someone wants to play.”
They take turns hosting, with the hostess providing cards – a list of tile combinations that are reconfigured each year. They have a set she found online from 1967, which she chose because it was the year she got married.
“It sounded like a good year and that one has some interesting stuff on it.” They also have cards from 2011, 2016, and 2018. They also skip the Building of the Wall, she said – arguably the most complicated part of the game where tiles are stacked and traded with fanfare.
“We just dump them in the middle, it goes faster and you can play more games; it’s still a game of chance.” In about four hours, the group lands nine games, including snacks, which Frigon said is the most important part.
“I like it a lot, I l think we just all like to moan and groan and say, ‘Oh I didn’t get that tile.’ We have a very good time.”
Kansas-Made Mahjong
While mahjong tile providers can be found in droves, few make the tiles themselves, let alone offer custom design options. Seeing a spike in game popularity, two moms in Leawood decided to take the market for their own. After meeting on the tennis court, Catherine Stuber was benched due to shoulder surgery. Mahjong became her new game out of necessity, and an idea grew into the business of mahjong tiles.
“I didn’t think there was anyone in Kansas doing it and [mahjong] is so big right now,” she said. “It can’t be that hard.” However, Stuber said she’d underestimated the process.
“We ordered these molds and they were huge, then we started making resin tiles in her kitchen and it was such an epic fail. We’d try again, epic fail, epic fail, epic fail. But I knew there was a way to do this.”
Through research and working with other craftsmen, Stuber ultimately decided on a more efficient method using acrylic and a laser engraver, while also offering options for wood. Thus, For the Love of Mahj was born.
“It took a long time, but we found a really good way to produce them faster; I’m such an investigator and we started getting really busy.”
That includes working with clients to create custom designs, from colors to what’s on the tiles themselves. Like the client who wanted her initials – LA – framed like the LA Dodgers logo in a pink swirl. Another wanted a personal memento and her husband’s name, Keith, for each joker tile.
“One lady wanted a set to match her home, another got two wooden sets, one for her summer home and the other for her house in New York. Another client sent us a picture of her new set in her mahjong closet; there are 43 sets,” she said. “There are some people who are really into mahjong.”
One of their most popular models is a KC-themed mahjong set that comes in versions of the Royals, Chiefs, and Current. It includes themes like BBQ and water fountains. Stuber said she hopes to create a different Kansas-themed set each year as well as a set honoring her own hometown of Chicago.
“Apparently, mahjong has been around a long, long time but it’s just growing again and I think it’s because the tiles are so beautiful,” she said. “Once you get into it you want your own set and something that’s different and unique to you.”
Pictures: Top: For the Love of Mahj’s KC tile set. Middle: a group setting teaching others to play at Happy Hippie.
Left: from left to right: Dee Frigon, Lorrie Lloyd, Judy Dunn, and Jean Frigon during their weekly mahjong game.
