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If one expects the unexpected, can it really be considered unexpected? Surely the expected would be unexpected. But if the expected is unexpected… You can understand that the mood at Lucky Pub was one of confused contemplation, helped by the fact that the no-smoking zone was now the smoking zone and the smoking zone was the no-smoking zone. Were the Hash gods preparing us for a sudden reversal of the earth’s magnetic field? Or the replacement of down-downs with up-ups? On-ons with off-offs?
Adding to the sense of unease, Hash Mattress Easy Head Job was Acting Hash Cash, Baby BJ being last heard of in Poland. EHJ was also the only person who actually knew where we were going. Hares Beer King and Weekend Delight, aka Grand Master and On Sec, were somewhere in Brovary. The RA was running late. Hash Haberdasher was in the US buying necklaces. Hare-Raiser Unfinnished Symphony was the only other member of the Mismanagement Committee in sight. What would have happened if the pack had rioted? Could these two have controlled the situation?
Luckily we didn’t have to find out. The Lucky Pub staff were exchanging glances. Clearly they were on the verge of throwing us out for excessive contemplation. But we went of our own accord and circled on the footpath – only to suffer our first casualties. Noel and No Knickers announced that they would not be running with us… medical reasons… wish us well… Was the run to be a bizarre re-enactment of ‘Ten Little Niggerboys’? Was this what the GM meant by “Expect the unexpected”?
Our unease soon gave way to happy chatter as we marched off in the direction of Palats Sportu metro, getting to know the herd of returners, newcomers and virgins who had joined us. (Perhaps these were ‘the unexpected’…? More of them later.)
OK, let’s cut to the chase. Metro to Lisova, marshrutka 404 to the end of the line. Pig-hat appears on the horizon. We all advance towards it singing ‘Happy birthday to you…’ Underneath the pig-hat is our beloved GM. Then we see the On Sec. Then there’s a big chalk circle on the ground. Then we wait for Crazy Legs to find us in his car, eating Noisy Wench’s plums to keep our strength up. Nothing unexpected so far.
But now the GM surprises us. He produces a copy of the Hash Bible and proceeds to bless the run in the sacred language of the Hash. Then he calls on the RA to add to the solemnity of the occasion by reciting ‘The Hash is my shepherd’. Finally, he explains the sacred code of flour blobs and circles for the benefit of the virgins. Usually we expect them to learn by osmosis.
The GM saves the biggest surprise till last: this is to be a live-hare run! “Give us 7 minutes’ start,” he says, and he and Weekend Delight take off in a cloud of dust and flour. But not before the RA had reminded everyone of an ancient Hash custom. If the pack catches up with a live hare before the end of the trail, he or she is de-bagged. “De-bagged?” De-bagging is an old English schoolboy term for forcibly removing someone else’s shorts or trousers. {Much of Hash tradition comes from English schoolboy culture of a bygone age.)
Sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference between a Hash and an afternoon stroll. Such was the case on BK’s birthday. We walked along the road, noting the abundance of flour, commenting on the weather, waving at Hardon’s camera when he seemed to be pointing it at us. Not much chance of a de-bagging.
The trail took us to a small car-park in front of a shop and a café. An arrow pointed to the door of the shop. We went in. And there we found the hares in what looked very much like a bar, complete with stand-up tables, counter, taps and a pretty barmaid. Plastic 0.5 litre glasses of beer were being filled and distributed. (Philosophical question: Can a glass made of plastic still be called a glass?)
The beer was very good – befitting the Grand Master’s birthday. We discovered that it was also the Grand Mattress’s birthday+2, making it even more fitting. It was fresh beer, not your factory-made stuff, and there were dried fish to chew too. The Cracker family had a go and found it to be rather like chewing an eskimo’s boots – said to be one of the wifely duties in the far north.
The party divided between those who wanted to sip their beer in the open air and those who preferred to stay close to the taps and the barmaid. But an excited shout in the doorway brought everyone outside. A village wedding ceremony was under way, or rather a ceremony that takes place several days after a wedding involving carting the bride’s mother around in a wheelbarrow, men dressed up as women and a lot of drinking. It was reminiscent of a red dress run, so Hashers immediately felt at home.
The GM felt so much at home, in fact, that he decided to have the Circle there and then, even though the run had some way to go. After downdowning the hares the RA called returners, newcomers and virgins into the middle to introduce themselves. Then he sent the newcomers back because there were too many. We met Cracker’s family, namely his wife Fancypants and their 3 daughters Just Fiona, Just Kirsten and Just Rachel. We met Just Larisa and Just Lena and Just Natasha. By acclamation we voted to let them all come again. Once is never enough.
Then it was the returners’ turn. Just Neil ran with KH3 twice in 1948 (note to editor: please check date). Crazy Legs was returning after a couple of months away.
There were far fewer punishments than usual – and far fewer than were deserved. The pack was eager to finish the run, there being the promise of a guided tour of a brewery. So we sang the Hash hymn and set off. “Follow the pig,” said Beer King, so we did.
Unfortunately some people followed so slowly that they got lost… people who should have known better such as Hilly Billy, Unfinnished Symphony and Easy Head Job. Despite Hardon’s frantic waving, they strolled past a crucial right turn and might have ended up drowning in the Dniepr if Monster Meerkat had not been worried about his mum and asked Beer King to make some ’phone calls. (Which reminds me: BK never got his downdown for mobile ’phone abuse, caught on camera!)
By the time everyone caught up, the pack leaders were starting to drift home. So it was a select few that did the brewery tour at the Brovar-Hof, at Terminal: the hares Beer King and Weekend Delight of course; Unfinnished Symphony; Easy Head Job; Bimbo Skippy; Hilly Billy; and Hardon.
Exhausted by the tour they dined at the Brovar-Hof restaurant. The photos tell the story – go to the Hash gallery and be amazed.
On-on!
