Gaining The Upper Hand: Why Mahjong Is The Latest High-Society Hobby
Mahjong sessions are taking the Middle East’s social set by storm. Some undertake it as an intellectual pursuit while others are looking to find new friends. Are these trendy tiles taking over from the ladies’ lunch?
“When I posted about starting a Mahjong group on Instagram, 30 people responded within an hour,” says Anum Ali Khan. The Dubai-based Pakistani, known for being a social butterfly and flitting to multiple soirées per night, illustrates that she is not alone in wanting to create a circle that plays this 19th Chinese tile game. “We are going to meet every Thursday, starting with four sessions of two hours each. I have found a teacher to guide us; it’s a complicated game to learn and full of strategy.”
It turns out that Mahjong has been quietly infiltrating high society for the last couple of years, with elegant coffee mornings and discreet evening sessions mushrooming across the city from Emirates Hills mansions to DIFC lofts. What started off as a preserve of perfectly coiffed grande dames, playing on Gucci or Brunello Cucinelli boards, has had a trickle-down effect. Anum’s new recruits are in their 30s, though she pinched her tutor from her aunt’s already established scene that sees ladies in their 60s rotate at different hosts’ houses.
Why would someone with such a rich social life opt to stay home and play a board game? Anum replies, “I’m tired of just going out to eat. I want to be social, but in a productive way. I’d rather play a game than sit at a gathering discussing superficial or frivolous things which mean nothing.”
Mahjong has become such a hit due to a multitude of reasons. Some ladies are looking for the new social Sudoku to exercise their mind. Some are looking to find a new tribe. Others (perhaps microdosing on Ozempic) are looking for options to meet friends – without the added calories meeting for meals incur. For many who’ve opted out of the workforce to start families, it also provides structure and purpose for the day. It’s a hobby that enriches, invigorates – and literally has no down side (unless you ditch a session and risk being ostracised for breaking up the four). There’s also no necessity to dress up – though of course, many of these cliques do.
For Anum, the entry-point was playing padel – another hot trend in the region – and once she found a physical activity she could indulge in with friends, she was keen to add a mental element to her arsenal. “You are having fun, meeting new people and applying your mind,” she says of the game that aims to complete a specific 14-tile hand.
Some sessions happen behind closed doors, with invites exchanged in hushed tones and strictly guarded guest lists. “There is a stigma that money might be exchanging hands,” one operative tells me. In its native China, Mahjong is indeed a game of high stakes, but that’s not the case in the Middle East, where aficionados have even devised their own – less complicated – ‘Dubai’ variation to the rules.
Anisha Bhutanay is a Mahjong believer. Having lived in Singapore prior to moving to Dubai, she says, “I have always known about Mahjong as it was prominent in Asia. But I never played.” Once ensconced in the UAE, she joined classes along with a small group of friends two years ago. “It was for a version called Goulash. But then some of the girls splintered off and started to play the Dubai variation. That was a game changer for me. I try to play at least once week.”
There are multiple reasons the game entices, arguably mostly women, living in an expat-filled city. “It’s a great way to meet new people,” says Anisha. And although you can opt for designer paraphernalia, you can also just buy a table with all the additions from Amazon till you figure out if it’s something you want to commit to.
The reason Mahjong came on my radar was because I started being invited to a lot of gatherings. Sadly, my would-be fellow players followed this strictly as a daytime pursuit, with 11am sessions in Dubai Hills or twice-weekly mornings in Arabian Ranches not an ideal fit for a work day. “But that’s the right time for us bored housewives – it fills a solid two hours of our day,” laughed ringleader Sarah when pushed by me to reschedule to an after-work session. “Now I am on Mounjaro I don’t want to eat out so I can stay home, network and chat without snacks being at the crux of the agenda.”
Feasting is definitely a focus of other gatherings though. Mondays at 5pm are when mainly Emirati fans of the game congregate at Mirzan Chocolate Factory in Al Quoz. And anyone can sign up to partake of these London-Taiwanese versionbased sessions. “The conversation around the table makes it fun, and of course we are drawn to the tactics of play,” Mirzam’s Emirati co-founder tells us. “Every week we have new faces join us.” On the day I popped in to see proceedings, there were four boards in operation, with concentrated play not even getting distracted by the new chilli-chocolate treats on offer.
Born and bred in the UAE, with a very familiar surname, Salama* smiles saying, “I have enough friends” – the draw for her was not the social aspect of the game. “I shut my phone, switch off and play. It’s my opportunity to tune out. You have to be fully focused. Everyone plays for themselves – you have no partners.”
Salama is not just a seasoned Emirati player, but a protagonist, teaching others and instigating new units to form. “My Indian friend taught me ATF two years ago,” she recalls. “Then she took off for a month. I tried to join another group but I found the old aunties vicious – very scary,” she laughs. “It was too intense.” Soon Salama’s home sessions, nurtured to fit in with her schedule – “I like to play on weekends and in the evenings” – transferred to Mirzam.
“Because Kathy Johnston [Mirzam’s Chief Chocolate Officer] became obsessed.” Obsessed is also something that Salama admits to becoming; “I have them in all my houses around the world; I take travel sets on trips. If someone is missing on Friday night we panic.” She also corrects a misconception; although a mathematical base is an advantage, she doesn’t feel winning is based on skill. “It is not the new Bridge, but attracts players of Rummy. It is a game of luck. You have a winning hand or you don’t.”
Lead Image Credits: Cheuk Lun Alan Lo
