Outside a Long Beach building on handmade boards, men of all ages play religiously each day, sometimes till midnight. For many, 'it's part of a healing process,' an observer says.
November 5, 2011
By Lauren Williams
Los Angeles Times
The Cambodian men gather near a parking lot hunched over chessboards, some contemplating their next move, others squeezed in closely, offering strategy. Some tease opponents or cheer on players.
The ages range wildly from 18 to 70, but all share an obsession with Cambodian chess, which varies subtly from the game commonly played in the U.S.
They come together every day on a sidewalk on the eastern cusp of Long Beach's Cambodia Town. The smell of tobacco hangs heavy over the group, and a small heap of sunflower seeds sits within spitting distance. The men press together under the shade of a bottle brush tree jutting out of the sidewalk where a Cambodian flag flies alongside an American one. The buzzing of traffic along busy Anaheim Street doesn't faze them as they shuffle pieces across the board.
