Game of Dominoes We All

Game of Dominoes

We All Fall Down: The Game of Dominoes

Games have been around nearly as long as civilization itself. Even ancient societies -- where the work was longer and rewards harder-earned -- had a need for diversion. Games and gaming provide for a deep psycho-emotional need which may be inherent to thinking, rational species, and present an outlet for intelligent energies. Succinctly, the idea may be termed the need to compete, which has both aggressive and intimate aspects: to the gamer the game is both combat and dialogue. In cultures across the world and deep in time, games have evolved to fill this need for diversion and competition, and continue to evolve today. One might be hard-put to discover a person who does not game on some level, especially in the more leisurely, computer-assisted lives of today. Sudoku, chess, X-Box, poker, Monopoly -- everyone's done it at least once, and usually a couple more times after that. In this paper we will examine the life, times and ethnographic niche of a particular game, which, having crossed the world over, is a particular favorite of Dominican culture: the game of dominoes.

Competitive, board-style games may have existed before written language properly did, as the excavations of an ancient Iranian site by Yousef Majidzadeh seem to corroborate. Certainly, by the first Egyptian dynasty a board game called Senet was popular enough to be memorialized in artwork of the day. Played with pieces by opposing players on a 3 x 10 grid, it is reminiscent -- and perhaps an ancestor -- of chess. The Egyptians were prolific gamers, in King Tut's tomb a Senet board was discovered, along with a set of ivory pieces which may have been an early form of dominoes. A Chinese game, Go, is dated to the 4th century BC and still available in toy stores today. Embodying the adage: "Minutes to learn, years to master," this strikingly simple and deceptively complex game has survived the test of time.

The first true domino set is dated to 1120 AD in a place as far culturally removed from the Dominican Republic as China. The tiles were developed from dice, with each tile representing one possible outcome of a roll of two dice. Because only 21 unique outcomes are possible -- throws such as 6-1 and 1-6 are considered repeats -- the ancient Chinese set had only 21 tiles. It was not until the 18th century that the game reached Europe, via Italy, where it took the name it has today. Domini were white hoods marked with black spots worn by Venetian revelers at Carnival. In Europe the tile set was expanded to include the blanks; six half-blank tiles and one full-blank "spinner" added seven to the set and form the basic, traditional set in use in the western world. Today's Chinese play a variety of domino games with rules and tile sets very different from those of the Dominican Republic. In the DR, playing with a double-nine -- 55 tile -- set is the standard; and you can't call them pieces, they're bones, ok?

Take any summer day, take a walk down to a Latin neighborhood, and odds are better than even that, on at least one sidewalk, in front of at least one house, there's a crate turned up with four players around it. Dominican rules are simple and traditional. Two teams of two is the first part -- the most important thing about the game is sociality; why restrict the table to two people with a 28 tile set, when a 55 tile set covers four people nicely? Everybody draws seven bones, which leaves 27 in the bone yard. Sometimes everyone draws nine bones. Usually, in Dominican rules, if one player is blocked, he cannot play, has to pass, and does not draw from the bone yard; so those 27 bones are completely out of the game. In the variants of different cultures, sometimes the blocked player must draw one bone every time he passes, and in others must continue to draw bones until he has a play. But that is the game's objective: block the other team's moves, while getting your bones onto the board. It sounds easy, but there is a complicated tango of mathematics and shrew guesswork involved. Dominoes is a game that permits, even necessitates, "card" counting, and it is this dance of four intelligences, drawing on their own wisdom and experience of the game, that makes for the competitive aspect.

Here is the most important thing to know about Dominican dominoes: Never, ever, place a bone neatly on the board. Bones must be slammed down hard enough to wake the neighbors, or slid across the tablecloth with a flourish and a swagger. Dominicans -- and people of all cultures -- become very immersed in the competitive aspect of their games, whether or not there is money on the line. The domino game is a simulated combat, a chance to reveal sharp analytical skills. Old men relish dancing circles of wisdom around less tutored minds, and younger men develop mind-borne tables of chance and averages to maximize their odds. Dominoes is a useful outlet for the aggression and competitiveness natural to our species -- the drive to be the most evolutionarily fit -- especially since, once the game is done, no one is the worse for sharing a beer on the front porch. It is a way to test one's self without leaving the comfort of society and sunny afternoons, and a way to divert from the long day behind, and the longer one ahead.

Here is the second most important thing to know about Dominican dominoes: No cross-boarding! The game is a dialogue of minds, not of mouths. The players share ideas by laying down their bones, by subtle facial and body cues, by communications sub-vocal but just as evocative as the spoken word. It is important to follow one's partner, to try and decode the thoughts of the other team expressed in their choice of plays, to be immersed in the mood and conversation unspoken but burgeoningly present at the table. In this way social skills are improved.