Faces of Wuxi Series, vol. 6 – Changfa Square Paiyou
Wuxi resident Bradley Johnson here.
I love exploring and getting to know all kinds of wonderful people in this city.
In this installment of the Faces of Wuxi, I will use a series of vignettes to tell you about my Paiyou 牌友，or "card friends".
One - What do you do with time to kill at a mall?
On Dec 14, 2023, I arrived twenty minutes early for a mid-morning appointment at Changfa Square in Wuxi's Liangxi district. With nothing else to do but wander around, I quickly made an awesome accidental discovery:
Playing cards at a cluster of tables and chairs in the large atrium of the mall were 39 classic Chinese retirees. Individually and collectively, they radiated a palpable aura of hardcore leisure—engaged in intense competition while chatting, laughing, and card-slamming the morning away without a care in the world.
And yes, I counted each one of them because I wanted to give them all credit for being a part of this beautiful scene. I also had a burning desire to know what game had brought them together.
This is the shot I snapped in real-time anticipation before the Changfa Square players had come into full view on that December morning. I could see, hear, and feel that excitement was right around the corner. [Photo provided to wuxi.gov.cn]
It took me a few tries to decipher the Wuxi dialect version of the name I was hearing, but I eventually concluded that they were playing a game called guandan 掼蛋, or "throwing eggs". Despite subsequent hours of education, my brain has yet to absorb and retain all the rules of the game. Rather than muddle through an explanation myself, I will defer you to any of the wonderful tutorial pages available online. Simply search for "guandan rules".
Two - If you don't forcefully slam down your cards in guandan, does your play still count?
The answer, of course, is no. This is the one rule I picked up on right away.
Three – Can you or I be as chill as a Chinese retiree?
There is only one thing that beats the vibe of finding a spot in a park to plop down and play a game of cards with a few friends.
And that is when, in the process of doing so—right in the middle of your game, you get the feeling someone is behind you. You turn around to see an old Chinese dude with his hands clasped behind his waist, quietly observing.
At that moment, that old Chinese dude is in his element. He's doing what old Chinese dudes do. He's just so cool. Retirees in this country know how to chill. He is both perfectly content and utterly thrilled to stand there watching you play cards. He could go all day.
So, I have found it quite natural to employ the same card-watching move in the atrium at Changfa Square, and highly recommend the practice to all, wherever and whenever you come across Chinese retirees playing cards.
Since that first day, I have returned about once a month to mingle and take in the action. I may never be as chill as the guandan players of Changfa Square, but it's fun to try, and doing so has opened up a whole new world of joy over the past year.
The red and blue pieces are tracking the levels that each of the two teams have advanced to. [Photo provided to wuxi.gov.cn]
Four - What happens if you yell out "Grandpa!" into a sea of Grandpas?
At one point during a recent visit, a little boy walked up to the edge of the mass of elderly card-players, looked around for a second, and called out, "Grandpa!".
This profoundly amused me. His grandpa could have been any one of two dozen very similar-looking and acting individuals. Merely passing by, it's as easy as anything to lump all of them together. All you see is a bunch of grandmas and grandpas playing cards.
But that little boy's grandpa was in there, somewhere. He wasn't just one of the old car-playing men. He was "Grandpa!"
Despite knowing this, I was still momentarily afraid that this kid's effort to identify his grandpa would be unsuccessful. Lo and behold, with only a slight delay, and while maintaining eye contact with the monarchs in his card hand, a man two tables away from me casually raised his free hand to identify himself to his grandson.
Five - "What's your name again?"
During a visit in May, I gravitated toward a table that seemed particularly lively. The three elderly men and one less-elderly woman were engaged in persistent friendly banter, including some mild trash-talking. Another older woman was seated at one corner of the table providing commentary and advice for all, whether they wanted it or not.
Much of the banter was directed towards "Lao Zhang老张", or Old Zhang, e.g., "How do you keep getting these hands, Lao Zhang? You're driving me crazy!" And: "If I die, I die. I feel like Lao Zhang is just messing with me."
It was seemingly clear to me that the five of them were all old friends. They had a great social rapport, and the game was fast-paced and competitive.
Thus, I was blown away when the younger woman casually said to the man next to her, "Wait, what's your name again?"
"My family name is Jiang, like Jiangsu," he responded.
From left to right: a nice nameless gentleman, Mr. Jiang, the color-commentator, the woman who asked Mr. Jiang for his name, and Lao Zhang. [Photo provided to wuxi.gov.cn]
Between games several minutes later, when the group had started asking about me, I briefly flipped the conversation and asked, "Do you guys not know each other? I was so surprised when you asked Mr. Jiang what his name was."
The woman who had asked him chuckled, "Oh, we didn't know each other before. But we're all like that. We just play with whoever is there, and when you play, well, now you know each other, right?"
"You end up playing with him today, and her tomorrow. There are no rules for who you play with," Lao Zhang said.
Mr Jiang added, "We're just having fun. We've got nothing else to do, anyway."
Six - "Paiyou?"
On another day at another Lao Zhang table, a chatty grandma came over to talk to him. He introduced me to her, and we talked for several minutes while the game went on. After she asked Lao Zhang what his plans were for dinner, I proceeded to stick my foot right in my mouth by asking her if he was her husband. The two of them laughed a warm, disarming laugh, in spite of my tactless inquiry.
"No, no, no, haha! We're just paiyou," she said with a gigantic smile.
Lao Zhang, second from left, with his paiyou standing behind him, who is NOT his wife. [Photo provided to wuxi.gov.cn]
It took me a second to process, before shouting "Ohhhh! You mean like friends (you, or pengyou) you made through playing cards (pai)? Paiyou!"
"Yep, exactly! Or 'bayou'. That's what we say here," she added, giving me the Wuxi dialect pronunciation.
"OK then, bayou, see you again!" I said.
Seven – Are master egg throwers quick learners, too?
This month, I brought a friend with me from the United States, Kyle, who is learning Chinese, to Changfa Square to meet my paiyou. As he always does, Lao Zhang called me over to hang out at his table, and also to introduce my friend.
Taking advantage of the stir caused by Kyle's presence, I pulled a card game called Karma out from my backpack and offered to teach it to Lao Zhang and his tablemates for the day. Lao Zhang made me laugh with his completely earnest initial reaction:
"OK, we're happy to try it, but if you really want to spread it, you need to do this systematically. You need to find a core group of trainees, get them comfortable and enthusiastic, and then have them teach others one by one."
"Haha, perhaps, but let's just have a little fun. Trust me, this game is much simpler than guandan, it'll be easy for you guys," I responded, feeling like there was a bit of nervousness at the table.
Indeed, we had a blast. They were fascinated with every detail about the custom cards and nuances of the game. As I predicted, they picked up on it very quickly, especially Lao Zhang and an adorable nainai (grandma) who would use Wuxi dialect to repeat all of my explanations to the crowd that had gathered to see what was going on.
The Changfa Square guandan players are bringing their usual intensity to a new game. [Photo provided to wuxi.gov.cn]
Nainai also cracked me up as she got a huge kick out of every time someone couldn't make a play, which meant they had to pick up a huge pile of bad cards. She kept blurting out with unrestrained pleasure something in Wuxi dialect that I couldn't quite make out. It wasn't until I shared my audio recording of the event with a Wuxi native friend a few days later that I learned she was saying "吃进！Chijin!", or, "Eat it! Eat it!" (In Wuxi dialect it sounded something like "chet ziin").
Needless to say, my game was a hit. I'll be back to Changfa Square with Karma and possibly other games, too. I also promise to keep honing my guandan skills and beat Lao Zhang someday (OK, maybe that second part is pushing it).
Who's up for a game? [Photo provided to wuxi.gov.cn]
Wuxi friends! Is there someone you think readers would like to see featured in the Faces of Wuxi series? Hit me up! facesofwuxi@outlook.com
