How Do You Play Hop Scotch Using Negative Numbers?

Didn't even know "minus" numbers existed in the days when we used to play hopscotch along Lowell Avenue's newly cemented sidewalks! (On those previously rocky dirt sidewalks, playing hop scotch had been impossible!)

Photo by MarashGirl©2022

Lottery Tickets?

Marash Boy's mother (born in Marash, a survivor of the genocide of the Armenian people in the Ottoman Empire) used to love to buy lottery tickets whenever she went to the supermarket. She told Marash Girl, "If I win, I promised God that I'll give half the money to the church!" Marash Girl advised with a chuckle, "When you promise God that you'll give all the money to the church, you may win the lottery!"

"Reppin' The Red, White, and Blue" At The Watertown Starbucks

Or, as the patriot paused long enough to announce with great pride, "We're playing backgammon!"

Photo by MarashGirl©2021

Playing Backgammon, But Not For Keeps . . . and Never On Sunday!!!

During winter vacations from public school, Marash Girl and her siblings and cousins loved to play tavla, as we called it -- (nard in Armenian, backgammon for those of you who don't speak Turkish or Armenian). . . we had learned from watching our fathers engage in what seemed to be ferocious competition. The rattle of the dice, the shouts of the players when they realized they had gotten lucky dice (du shesh, shesh besh, juaradu du, du bara),the slam of the backgammon pieces, the annoyance of the seasoned players as they moved their opponents' pieces into the correct slots. For us kids, it was pure fun. We never wagered money or toys; although we knew that backgammon was a popular game with adults, we never knew that in the coffee shops, the stakes were high ($$$) for those who played in backgammon competitions. But we did imitate the shouts of the players (always men, never women) as they (probably, though we didn't understand) cursed in Turkish (Armenians never cursed in Armenian -- as the saying goes, "Armenians pray in Armenian and curse in Turkish!") It is interesting to note, however, that we were never allowed to play backgammon on Sundays!

The Music of Her Childhood

Falling asleep last night, Marash Girl remembered the music of her childhood, the clicking roll of the dice, the slam of the backgammon (tavlu) pieces (black though slightly worn, or cream colored, depending on the players' preference), the rhythms that nightly rocked her into slumber. "Juarah du!" "Du shesh!" "Du barah!" "Shesh besh!" The memory, albeit everpresent, was brought to the fore by Marash Girl's reading of the book of poetry now in print for the first time: FIRST GENERATION, Poetic Memories, written by Krikor Der Hohannesian, published by Dos Madres Press.

A must read, from Marash Girl's perspective. To order a signed copy of FIRST GENERATION, Krikor Der Hohannesian's newly published book of poetry, email the poet at krikorndh@verizon.net or order from the poet at the address below: Krikor N. Der Hohannesian 31 Boston Avenue Medford, MA 02155-6721 The cost of the book is $22.00 which includes shipping and handling. Enjoy!

Have You Ever Played "Racing Raindrops"?

Raining outside? No problem for the kids. On very rainy days, especially during elementary school vacations, Marash Girl, her sister, brother, and cousins, would play "Racing Raindrops", a game of their creation. Have you ever played? It's fun! Here's how they did it . . . When it was raining outside, and the kids had little to entertain them, they would go to the dining room window, the window overlooking the dell, then overgrown with white birch trees (a dell which later in their childhood, disappeared when it became a grassy hillside, as the dell had been filled in with the soil from the cavity created when excavating the cellar hole for the yet to be constructed Newtonville Electrical Company on Newtonville Avenue); each kid (at the same moment) would select a raindrop at the top of the window pane, and then follow that raindrop all the way down to the window sill, hoping that his/her raindrop of choice would arrive at the base before the others. If it did, that raindrop's owner won the game!!!! And all of the kids cheered for the winning raindrop!

Antsrev Gookah

Whenever a thunderstorm would head our way,  to allay the children's fears, Medzmama taught them to recite the following rhyme . . .

Antsrev gookah, tsiun gookah, grgrr baban doon gookah.
(Translation:  Rain is coming, snow is coming, Papa Thunder is coming to our house!)
But what's the second verse?

Please dear reader, if you know the answer, please type it into comments.  That way, I won't lose any more sleep over the question

RACING RAINDROPS

Whenever it would rain, and we children would be confined to the house rather than racing around in our backyard, we would love to play racing raindrops.  Each of us would choose a raindrop, and compete as to whose raindrop would reach the windowsill first!

Getting Ready for Easter!

Now that you have those eggs dyed blood red (yes, blood red symbolizing the blood of Christ as the soldiers stabbed Christ as Christ hung dying on the cross), you must refrigerate the eggs to keep them fresh for Easter.  On Easter, you and your guests will play the age old Armenian Easter egg game which symbolizes Christ's breaking through the tomb and conquering death.  The game will be described in tomorrow's blog, so stay tuned!

Onion Skins for Easter?

What?  Onion Skins for Easter?  Well, not exactly.  But we Armenians couldn't have Easter without onion skins.  It is the onion skins boiled in water that create a deep red dye.  Nope. Not red onion skins.  Brown onion skins!  (Who would have guessed?) Once the water turns red, you can remove the onion skins, and boil fresh eggs in the now crimson water, leaving those eggs to steep in the dye after the eggs have been boiled.  Or, alternatively, you can boil the eggs in the now red water with the onion skins remaining in the water with the eggs. (The egg shells are less likely to crack.)  This will result in boiled eggs which are deep red in color with an abstract design created by the skins with which the eggs were boiled.  Either way, the eggs are now ready for the Armenian Easter Egg game.  More on that tomorrow!

Feeling the Force

Have you ever tried to get a roomful of 10 year old boys to be still?  Lorig did!  They'll do anything for Star Wars.  So this is how it happened.  18 ten year old boys had to sit, stand or lay absolutely still for one minute.  Sounds easy, right?  Wrong.  You try it, and you're older than 10.  No twitching, no smiling, no blinking, no scratching an itch.  One person moves the slightest, and the effort has to begin anew for all 18 boys. Could they do it?  Yes, they did!  Because of Star Wars, because they were "feeling the force", they could be still for a full minute! (Sorry, but Marash Girl has no picture to prove it. . . you'll just have to take her word for it!)

The First Game On the New Board; or Don't Play With Lady Fortune!

With no dice in sight, Raffi insisted on playing tavla; somehow he knew he was going to win.  But what to do about the dice?  Raffi said, "No problem," as he wrote numbers on the small pieces of paper and handed the bowl of numbers to his sister, who Marash Girl named, "Lady Fortune". And that was the end of that!  As you might guess, dear reader, Lady Fortune favored her brother, NOT Marash Girl, AND, as a result, guess who won that first game on the brand new tavla board.  Guess who?  Guess who?  Guess who? (That's plural but Marash Girl doesn't know how to write who in the plural!)

How Times (and Tavla Boards) Have Changed!

Looking longingly at Grandpa Peter's tavla board, Marash Girl asked her daughter Lorig (who had accepted an invitation to present Community Mediation Training to the Israelis in Jerusalem) to please bring home a traditional tavla set for Raffi (Marash Girl's grandson, Lorig's son), as Raffi had, during the Chatham summer, exhibited unusual skill in the game -- no doubt inherited from his Great Grandpa Peter and his Great Great Grandpa Moses, both who hail from Marash).

Lorig dutifully went to the bazaar in the Armenian Quarter of Jerusalem, looking for a traditional Tavla set, (backgammon set, or as, Lorig learned they call it in Israel, Shesh Besh --which is one of the traditional Persian calls for the dice when 5 and 6 appear) a set like Grandpa Peter's. She was told, however, that the wooden boards -- the boards that looked like Grandpa Peter's -- were now all made in China.  If she wanted one made by Armenian hands, she would have to purchase the boards with pottery inserts -- Jerusalem Pottery inserts -- pottery that was made traditionally and still, by the Armenians in Jerusalem  (the very Armenian potters whose ancestors created tiles for Jerusalem's Mosque of the Dome), but in this case the Armenian's name was Darakjian (a relative, no less) whose family originally hailed from Marash! (What were the chances?)  Unfortunately, pottery is very heavy, and so the tavla board added much weight to Lorig's already heavy bags, but she was not about to disappoint her children!  (It should be noted here that Aline, at the tender age of 2 1/2 years, could throw the dice like her great-great-grandpa Moses.  Whatever the number we asked her to throw, she threw it! Unfortunately this set did not come with the dice, so Aline has to wait a bit to practice her skills!)  Lorig survived the trip and arrived with the heavy tavla board in tow, a board she had lovingly packed into her suitcase, adding a good 20 pounds if not more, and dragging it all the way back to her kitchen table.  Here it is (the backgammon set AND the kitchen table!)  Oh, and by the way, the wooden pieces are made from the olive tree!

Lucky in Love

When suitors came calling at 474 Lowell Ave . . . usually young Marashtsi Armenian men . . . Marash Girl, who typically had no interest in these young men, would offer to play tavlu with them.  (If you don't know what tavlu is, check the blog post below.)  Typically, though, Marash Girl would lose the game, and one particular suitor tried to comfort Marash Girl's disappointment with the words, "Lucky in love, unlucky in games."  Marash Girl is not sure whether that was a direct translation of an old Marashtsi saying, or simply an expression known world-wide, but she couldn't help smiling to herself.  If the young man was trying to comfort Marash Girl, he had just rung the death knell for his own potential relationship with her.  He had won the game, but not the girl!

Tavlu at 474 Lowell Avenue!

King Dude found the backgammon in the basement of the summer house. . . Can we play backgammon, Ama?

Okay, his grandmother replied.  She taught him the game, the moves, and proudly reported to her daughter that evening that she and Iffar had not only played backgammon, but that Iffar had won the game!

What?  asked her daughter.  You didn't teach him Tavla?  You didn't teach him the numbers the way Grandpa Peter and Uncle Paul shouted them out?  Shesh Besh?  Du Shesh?  How could you?

So Marash Girl had some undoing to do . . . a major linguistic teaching job lay ahead of her.  That language that belongs only to tavlu for Armenians from Marash.  Are you ready for the lesson?

1-1... Hep yek 

2-1... İki bir 
2-2... Du Bara 
3-1... Se Yek 
3-2... Sebar i Du 
3-3... Du Se 
4-1... Cehar ı Yek (Jehar i yek)
4-2... Cehar i Du  (Jehar i du)
4-3... Cehar u Se (Jehar u se)
4-4... Dort Cehar  (Dort Jehar)
5-1... Penc u Yek (Penj u Yek)
5-2... Penc i Du  (Penj u Du)
5-3... Penc u Se (Penj u Se)
5-4... Beş Dört   (Besh Dort)
5-5... Dü Beş   (Du Besh)
6-1... Şeş Yek  (Shesh Yek)
6-2... Şeş i Du  (Shesh i Du)
6-3... Şeş ü Se (Shesh u se)
6-4... Şeş Cehar (Shesh Jehar)
6-5... Şeş Beş  (Shesh Besh)   The favorite of all for the kids!
6-6... Dü Şeş  (Du Shesh)

Marash Girl remembers the day she and her sister and brother and cousins took out a pencil and paper and recorded those numbers on a piece of paper, and stuck the paper inside of one of the tavla sets so they would never forget.

GRANDPA MOSES, A CARD COUNTER!

Grandpa Moses was brilliant by all accounts.  Although he was the son of a minister, and grew up in an evangelical house where playing cards was forbidden, he played cards, and not only did he play cards, but he was a card counter.  He knew by the cards that folks discarded in any given game exactly what cards they held in their hand . . . Amazing.

AND he knew how to play backgammon and win, knew how to throw the dice so that he could get whatever combination of numbers he needed!

Jig Saw Puzzling

Marash Girl has the fondest memories of jig saw puzzles -- they bring to mind a big old Victorian summer house built of unpainted weathered wood, a summer house in Wellfleet, Massachusetts, Cape Cod -- few windows made for dark, cool rooms and in the midst of the central room was a "bridge" table covered with a jig saw puzzle waiting to be completed -- a puzzle to be worked on by the summer dwellers when the weather turned cold, the day dark, the clouds heavy with rain .  .  .  Time stretching out with no end . . . Time to dream, time to think, time to walk the beach, time to chat, time to . . .  work on a jig saw puzzle!  There was no television in the house, no radio, no telephone, certainly no computer, nor cell phone.  And one could take such pleasure in the small accomplishment of finding one tiny piece that fit -- the smallest of accomplishments, no witnesses, no praise  . . . just the puzzle and you.

And so it was that when Marash Girl found herself in Stowe, Vermont, at the beginning of a week that promised rain every day, she (as you may have learned from reading her earlier blog posts this month) decided to begin a jig saw puzzle.  Stopping at the gift shop (before, of course, she had tried the local yard sales where she found two jigsaw puzzles "with no pieces missing" -- Hah!), the salesperson commented, "We have one that's 35 pieces . . . How large to do you want it?"  Marash Girl answered, "About 500 pieces?"

"500 pieces?  500 pieces?" scoffed a customer from the far corner of the shop;  "I'm working on one that's 1500 pieces!"

Marash Girl started counting . . . hmmm.  1500 pieces, at 1 piece a day . . . that would take about 4 years and 3 months to complete;  2 pieces a day, 2 years and 1.5 months to complete; 3 pieces a day, 1 year and 20 days; 4 pieces a day, 1 year and 15 days; 5 pieces a day, 300 days to complete; 6 pieces a day, 250 days to complete; 7 pieces a day 214 1/3 days; 8 pieces a day would take 187 days plus 1/2 a day. 9 pieces a day, 166 days plus 2/3 of a day.  10 pieces a day, 150 days . . .  Would that the man had helpers, or a lot of time!  He must have thought that in Stowe, it rains forever!

ON TAP: Bob Oakes (WBUR's Morning Edition) interviews Dr. Rachel Volberg & Laurie Salame on Massachusetts Casinos

Bob Oakes of WBUR's Morning Edition, interviewing

Dr. Rachel Volberg & Laurie Salame, JD, at the WBUR studios

Dr. Rachel Volberg (right) who conducts epidemiological research on gambling throughout the world, and Laurie Salame, JD, (left) who has worked in the casino industry and now teaches courses on hospitality law and casino management.

At the end of the evening, Bob Oakes asked the audience:  "How many of you here today are in favor of casinos in Massachusetts?  How many opposed? How many neutral?"   The vote in one family of three was 1-1-1!

On Thursday evening, February 27, 2014, Bob Oakes of WBUR's Morning Edition, "held court" (live) before an audience of WBUR supporters in the studios of WBUR.  During an interview with  Dr. Rachel Volberg (who conducts epidemiological research on gambling throughout the world) and Laurie Salame, JD (who has worked in the casino industry and now teaches courses on hospitality law and casino management) on the pros and cons of casinos in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, Oakes directed a lively, audience-interactive discussion where one member of the audience commented, "Casinos in Massachusetts?  Make way for the pawn shops!" 
Summing up the issue, a young woman challenged the presenters: "Do you know what it's like growing up in a  community blighted by a casino?"

See earlier posts by Marash Girl on the proposed casino in Springfield, Massachusetts:

http://marashgirl.blogspot.com/2013/07/mgm-offers-gambling-jobs-and.html; http://marashgirl.blogspot.com/2013/07/mgm-wins-vote-for-casino-in-springfield.html

One day left from the old days . . .

 "Eski günlerden bir gün kalmush . . ."= "One day left from the old days . . . "

Do not disturb . . . game in progress!

Armenian backgammon players  entertain themselves and passing photographers  in front of an Armenian Grocery Store in Watertown, Massachusetts . . .  After Marash Girl guessed that they were not Marashtsi or Aintabtsi, but rather Kaiserietsi -- they proudly announced that yes, she was right . . .  they were Kaiserietsi!

Nine Man Morris, Plimoth Plantation style

 In appreciation for their delivering  his mid day meal to him from the village above, this workman rewarded the children by taking a break from his work to teach them the ancient game of 9 Man Morris, a game that needs no more than a stick to draw the board in the soil, and 18 stones, 9 white and 9 black. 

 .

Above is the 'board' for 9 Man Morris.

The object of the game is to put 3 of your stones in a row, you may choose white stones or black, white goes first, on the intersection of the lines.  Taking turns, the first person to get three stones in a row without being blocked by the opponent wins the game. 

And just think!  You don't have to order the game online!  It's all right there for the asking!