Mastering Xiangqi (Chinese Chess)

Games play a big role in any culture.  My efforts to master Chinese chess, or xiangqi, should best be called a “work in progress”.  Then again, so should my efforts at normal chess.  The game features nearly identical rules to international chess, except for the addition of two “cannons” and movement restrictions for some of the pieces.  Generals (Kings) cannot leave the palace (squares sections at either end of the board).  Likewise, elephants (bishops) cannot cross the river (a sort of no man’s land in the center of the board).  The cannons are the most interesting pieces and do not have counterparts in international chess.  The ability of the cannons to capture pieces over great distances and move quickly around the board make them some of the most valuable pieces in the game.  For more information on the rules of xiangqi make sure to check out the link below.  Yes, I know this is a link for Wikipedia, but it can be a good source of basic information.  It’s how I learned the Germans actually bombed Pearl Harbor during World War I, and Captain Crunch triumphed at Trafalgar with his fleet of Crunch Berries. 

  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Xiangqi

But I am not here to teach you how to play Chinese chess.  I am here to give you valuable, though skewed, insights into Chinese culture from the perspective of a foreigner.  You constantly see old people playing the game in parks and on street corners, holding wads of cash plastered with Chairman Mao’s likeness.  Often times, a crowd of elderly men stand watching the game, some standing on boxes and curbs to get a better view of the game.  Though gambling is illegal in mainland China, people will pretty much bet on anything, and Xiangqi and Mahjong present a wonderful opportunity for gamblers to strike it rich.    

My roommate and I, an Austrian expat, often go to the local café to play xiangqi and drink coffee.  The café, which has three different names, is primarily frequented by young Chinese looking for an alternative to the bland corporate identity sold by Starbucks to newly affluent Chinese consumers (be on the lookout for a post about this subject).  The responses of the café’s clientele to our efforts have been mixed.  Many young Chinese simply laugh when they see two young white people playing such a traditional Chinese game.  The snickering and pointing of young Chinese couples is as much a part of the game to us as the old spectators watching the street corner matches outside.  It sort of embodies the younger generation’s rejection of many aspects of traditional Chinese culture.  Many of the Chinese my age that I know don’t even know how to play xiangqi and consider it a game best relegated to history. 

However, older Chinese tend to give us the “nod”.  The “nod” is sort of their way of saying I have a begrudging respect for these lao wei trying to learn our game.  Though adapting to China isn’t easy, the “nod” of approval from older Chinese chess players gives me a feeling of accomplishment and acceptance that bridges any language gap.