The above piece is an elephant; its movements are related to those of the bishop in western chess.
I played Chinese chess in Harvard Sq. today, fter miraculously finding a parking space directly opposite Holyoke Center, where those who do not talk about much else, and may not be able to, indulge their obsession with chess.
I put out my Xiangqi board, and immediately a young Chinese-American
woman came over. She didn't know the game but said why not when I offered to
teach her. She didn't know chess either, which made Xiangqi somewhat more
difficult to grasp, since it is chess, though she knew the characters that
define the pieces, so that, at least, was no problem.
Another young Chinese woman, from the Chinese mainland,
visiting father and brother, came over and tried to advise her. This woman told
me her name but didn't know you don't tell Americans three syllable four tone Chinese
names and expect us to pronounce them.
My Chinese car mechanic, on Prospect St., who I would unhesitatingly
recommend to everyone for his unstinting honesty and skill, tells me his name
is Mark. Of course it's something far more subtle and, for English speakers, near unpronounceable. We both
know and respect that.
(Prospect Auto, Inc. 617-354-2300. Mark
also rebuilds cars. If you buy one from him it won't be a lemon. and he will
maintain it.)
The Chinese woman from the mainland did tell me in halting
but serviceable English — far better than my zero mandarin — that her cousin
always beat her. He loved Xiangqi. She, on the other hand, was working too hard
in high school to apply herself to the game.
I'm not saying I played well but I did emerge better from
the clash and confusion of the pieces.
The opportunities for that, she said, in the town she came
from, were, as opposed to Chinese chess, which everyone played,
"small."
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