Sungka

Game On

Rejoice with your family in the beautiful land of life. - Albert Einstein

Second Grandddaughter and I sat, looking expectantly at each other. Horizontally in front of us was a sungka board.

Sungka, pronounced as soong-kah, is a two-player game played with seashells on a wooden, boat-like board.

Players pick up shells from a chosen hole, move them clockwise around the board, dropping a shell in each hole that's passed over and in the player's designated home base.

The object is to obtain as many shells in one's home, I chattered on brightly.

The rules set, I said. You start. My voice was soothing.

                                              

                                        Internet pic only

Second Granddaughter nodded coyly. Perusing her choice, she daintily picked from the hole from her farthest right and started distributing the shells.

She barked out a laugh, a wild one. I'm winning, G. Her tone and expression were teasing.

We shall see, I spoke calmly and took a turn. I barely paused to take a breath. I'd found my rhythm. Until... I "died" (meaning I ended in an empty hole and had lost my turn).

I could see in the course of the game that First Granddaughter was filling her house.

Ah, beginner's luck. I mocked her gently.

She continued to drop the shells one by one. Looking at my scantily-filled home base, she predicted with a smile at the corner of her lips, You'll end up with burnt houses, G (meaning I wouldn't have enough shells to fill my holes when we begin the next round of play).

As my turn came, I picked up a bunch from a hole, breathed slowly, and took a chance. I could win this. I thought that I had guessed with dead-on accuracy, but as a lonely shell dropped in an empty hole, I knew that I had lost.

Sigh... Just once, I'd like something to go as planned, ya know?

I let out a hooting laugh as dramatically, I clutched at my heart.

Second Granddaughter stifled a giggle, trying to convey a touch of sympathy.

I shooed her away in mock disappointment, but in my heart, I knew that winning wasn't really my biggest thrill. There were more important things.

Like seeing a smile stretched wide across a youthful face.

Hearing a good rich smile.

The sensation of finding mooring in family.