Oya Cafe in Paris: An International Collection of Games

A long-time fan of Ravensberger games from Germany, I was captivated by the boundless promise of an international games café. That a haven for traditional board games might flourish in this age of electronic entertainment intrigued me. Its pluralistic character, hinting at unknown challenges to be conquered with novel strategies requiring both linguistic and cultural translation, increased its appeal. Oya Café, more games venue than café, is tucked away unobtrusively at 25 Rue de la Reine Blanche in the 13th arrondisement's Gobelins neighborhood, where most tourists are unlikely to encounter it. Yet this one-of-a-kind treasure should be a prime tourist destination for families visiting Paris with children.

Like children learning to read study book jackets for context, we examined the exterior of the building as we approached for clues as to what might dwell within- to no avail. It was a stark rectangle the color of dried mud on a street of mostly unmarked and unremarkable flat-fronted structures. The boxy orange neon outlines of letters forming the word "Jeux" that jutted streetward at a ninety degree angle imparted no warmth, no invitation, no sense of playfulness. We pondered whether we'd located a specter of a games café only, until noting, on closer inspection, a stylized "Oya" sign in the same orange neon.

The contrast on entering refreshes. Ceiling to floor displays of board games welcome visitors, their boxes an alluring panoply of color, design and alphabets. The board games represent a veritable United Nations of child's play, reflecting their origins in dozens of countries. Eyes flit from shelf to shelf, seeking a theme or pattern. Ghosts, towers, battles: no commonality of subject apparent here. The titles spark curiosity- Billabong, Villa Paletti, Le Seigneur Anneaux, and Oer Weiße Lotus among them. Wandering aimlessly, I pick up Hase & Weigel; it looks like a tortoise and hare game for young kids. Marco Polo draws my interest with its caravan of camels trekking across the cover. A fun game? No idea; I can't even decide what kind of game it might be, but I'm fond of camels, so the cover enchants me. There are games named after places, real and imaginary: Puerto Rico, Manhattan, Rome, Lost Cities, and Camelot. Would I like to play Sambesi, perhaps? Or Le Clos Moquer? What about Ballon Cup or Zwickern?

Luckily, for people like me who falter in the presence of overload, there's assistance available. Patrick Ruttner, who has owned the café since its inception, knows his stock, as do his employees. Supply them with some preferences and they'll help pick a game from the more than 250 options. An initial consideration is the number, ages, and skill level of the players. Then there's the type of games the group enjoys- are these hard core competitive strategists or folks who can't bear the thought of winners and losers? Games can be selected by creator or by manufacturer. Or maybe visitors to France prefer a French game? If so, they needn't worry about having to read foreign directions. The staff here is familiar with the games and will explain the rules. They also can access an extensive computer database containing information concerning each game they rent in the event novel questions arise.

For those who arrive at this café expecting to sample an international games smorgasbord, disappointment awaits. The price structure discourages this, and the owner explains that he never intended for patrons to try a multitude of games. Rather he charges a per player price to rent one game with unlimited play permitted. With the expert game selection assistance offered, he anticipates mostly successful pairings of players with games. If the urge to sample another game is too overwhelming to resist, gamers may rent a second game for a reduced per player price. Oya Café will gladly sell its patrons any of the games it stocks, and the frequency with which players purchase a copy of the game they played there seems to attest to the soundness of Ruttner's approach.

Plan to eat a meal before setting off for the games café, for while nominally a café, Oya does not serve meals. Its scant menu includes coffee, tea, soda, fruit juices and a variety of light snack foods such as peanuts, chips and candy bars. The absence of meals at this specialty café is not as puzzling as it may at first seem if you momentarily imagine a gaggle of munchkins slurping potage or dribbling mustard atop the game boards. An offer of "Monopoly à la moutarde, Monsieur?" undoubtedly wouldn't "cut the mustard" with most café visitors.

Do different groups of patrons play games together? Ruttner says yes, particularly when the groups include kids. Unabashed about peeking over each others' shoulders and offering unsolicited comments on game strategy, children who come in separate groups frequently strike up conversations about the games and eventually join together to play them. This phenomenon is particularly discernible on Wednesday evenings, the traditional evening for non-custodial Parisian parents to take their children on outings. Oya Café is a popular place for such outings as it provides a ready activity for parent and child to share. Unlike a movie theater where quiet is de rigeur or a soft play center where age restrictions governing use of the climbing equipment preclude parent participation, a board games café permits parent and child to play and talk together.

The café's emergence as a non-custodial visiting center makes Wednesday nights a prime time for child tourists to befriend Parisian kids there. The cross-cultural commonality of play will quickly bridge any language barrier. Beyond facilitating international friendships, Oya Café offers tourists the opportunity to normalize a schedule heavy with visits to monuments and museums. Slowing down with a familiar activity like a board game can be a welcome relief from running from attraction to attraction. Consider the stop an integral part of a meltdown prevention strategy. The temptation to buy a game there is not necessarily a bad thing either. Their availability invites families to choose an active rather than passive souvenir; unlike most trinkets purveyed by gift shops and street vendors, a souvenir copy of a board game played for the first time in Paris is unlikely to be forgotten on a dusty overhead shelf.