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HASHSHIT HOLDERS THE YELLOW PERIL

Statistics: Members 27, New Members 1, Visitor 4. Total 32.

Macet on Jl. Gatot Subroto and the Jagarowi resulted in a number of late arrivers. I was there by, 5.22.30, but still had few qualms about finishing. Vatican Rag [a shy and secretive hasher who is rarely observed and leaves before the circle starts] tried to persuade me to take a short cut from the start, but I was having none of that and sped off to find paper on a wet and slippery path higher on the hill. Soon though the trail veered northwards and was following the contours. After 15 minutes I was feeling pleased with myself for having got so far without mishap, but then a check back forced me to test four or five different routes. Light was still good and I attempted to retrace the directions by examining the marks left by the treads of the pack. Eventually I was back on course, but at this point I was taken by surprise, by the sound of two more hashers, Maandi and Botaksan, behind me. It seemed that they had arrived even later than me. The three of us then followed the paltry amount of paper that had been laid, first of all downwards and then once more following the contours northwards. A tricky check sent us in various directions, but it was Maandi and Botaksan who were now in front and I was left in their wake. Again I was startled at being caught by two more hashers, Next Week and Last Weeks Scribe, Bp. Gordon, who were apparently even later to arrive. Being somewhat pissed off by the poor calling from, Maandi and Botaksan, we were off paper for some time, but with a little detour we were all back together and hastening onwards down to slopes. The run was now a more obvious lefty and turned in a southerly direction. It became apparent that we would soon reach the disintegrating housing complex that we had earlier driven through by car. It was well after 6.00 by now and the light was attempting to fail. A hike up the road, that weaves it way through the once terraces and cul de sacs of the complex, was an obvious and rather uninspiring way back, but that’s how we got there. A little steep for an all out attempt to run the whole way. I made my way upwards with Botaksan and we talked of many thinks, including the hash golfing day that he is arranging and his planned return to Japan. From a very late start we arrived back by 6.20. Superbrat arrived the most late, cursing and swearing at Jakarta traffic and as usual the run itself.

With the Hash Master was once again boycotting the run, hurriedly a replacement had to found, with one deputy still on the trail and Fanny a hare for the day. Angie [the most hated man in hash history] forced himself upon us and the result was an evening of chaos, mayhem and illdiscipline. I stood back and regretted the loss of the iron men of hashing, the sort who had once ruled with ruthless discipline and took no prisoners. Already this year we’ve lost three ex hash masters, BB, Koncorde and Hardcase. Of those ex masters who are left even Bolt1on is a pale reflection of his former assertive self; shrunken by dieting and nocturnal excesses he is now ignored and ridiculed by even the newest members. Jonesey tried to comfort me by saying that he would always be around and that’s when I became really depressed.

I have some vague recollections of the announcements: Tarzan suggested that runs should avoid kampung during the fasting month, which seemed a tall order for Java. Bolt1on said something about his Millenium bash and tickets being available. The news that a break in at the Anker brewery had resulted in the loss of the hash’s pewter mugs was taken more seriously, but as they were probably not Y2K compliant this may not be so much of an issue. Magic Dragon complained that last week’s hash sheet by newcomer, Bp. Gordon, had the run directions at the end so he had been forced to read ‘all shit that came before’.

So what about the run? One of the tosspots from Bogor said something about a non run and was politely asked why he f*cking bothered to come: Witless said he went the wrong way, but as somebody said ‘what does that matter he’s been going the wrong way for over fifty year already.’ Skinhead said something about scenery and rivers and tried to be nicey nicey in a German sort of way; some Scots git said 7 of ten or twelve; Yoshi said ‘it was easy and an ice of run’, whatever that meant; Tarzan was ever so nice and said good run; Pretty Boy made a typical Irish comment of no account; a Blue visitor said something about getting screwed by lawyers and accountants; Botaksan said ‘there were no thrills and excitement – boring’; a surprisingly erudite comment from Superbrat said ‘there was fuck all paper and fuck all’; Angie said ‘worst laid obstacle course of his life’. Brown-noser Mudguard said good run, but no one really agreed. The best that could be said, I suppose, was that it was good run for an accountant and a lawyer, Messrs. Stretch and Fanny.

Without an MM, help was at hand from Mudguard and Dr Ghurka, who sung hearty tunes that put us all in better spirits. RA, Herpes, was revitalized after 5 weeks away and had some severe punishment up his sleeve. There were down downs for the Blue Visitor, those with wind-breakers, cloggies and those with apparel which would suggest that they were cloggies and aussies with cloggy names; the Scottish sounding visitor from Sydney; and Bolt1on who took his teeth out. Amid the punishment Herpes did have time to introduced some typical German humor with a joke about bratwurst and part of the male anatomy that has passing resemblance to a bratwurst.

Achievers were thick on the ground. Especially thick was Jonesy who received a 400 shirt [187 saunters, 105 dawdles, 107 strolls and 1 attempt at a trot] . Botaksan suggested he should sing As I Get Older and Loosing My Hair, but in fact we got an old joke about old noodles and a song about Gonorrhea. Botaksan himself received his 300 run mug. Dr Ghurka got his 350 run mug, I think!

The hares songs: Harlot of Jerusalem by Fanny, which duly resulted in time on ice. Stretch sung a song we’d heard before about money, with special reference to rupiah. He should have been put on ice and left there.

At this point the rain that had threatened forcibly interrupted the circle. Herpes sacrificed himself to the ice and low and behold after five minutes it stopped. A miracle and HM was lauded at the new messiah! It was now 8.00 or more, but there was one more major celebration. Tarzan received his 750^th run shirt, a bucket of water over his head and sung us his version of Three Blind Mice and for those who are ardent collectors of such classics the words went like this: I Like c*nt, I like c*unt; Up against the railing I’ve often stood: F*cking young ladies: It’s so much better than pulling your pud: Cause I Leke c*unt: I leke c*nt.[I understand that thanks should go to the Australia Cultural Mission for help with the some of the more tricky lyrics].

Rain started again, the New Messiah was stoned and most departed to the On On at Hambalang Restaurant.

Back to the bonsai [E.M.].

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