DHAKA MIXED HASH – RUN NO 1362			6^th October 2007
ISD Bashundhara
Hares: Five-Year-Old-Shit, Blow Job, England 6 – Scotland 9, Towed				Hashers: 54
Virgins: Ben, Emily				New Runner: none
Leavers: Too many to mention		Returnees: none
The Hares	The Run What is there to say about this run? The planning was superb, the execution was brilliant but nobody seemed to notice. OK, so there were a couple of technical hitches (hash jargon for Hares getting lost when setting) and it was a tad on the long side, but the emotions that were generated for those observing Ramadan by running on into the dusk, lightning and thunder clouds building, unable to see paper or cars and being attacked by large canines must have been awesome. Collapsing from hunger they staggered through the tall grass at last, with massive relief, seeing the cars only to find there were no f**king Iftar snacks. Ahh well, maybe it wasn’t quite perfect. The run started well from ISD with an introduction of one member of the Australian contingent (not the one in the photo) to the ancient Irish art of bog trotting. Suffice it to say that he needs more practice, having disappeared up to his knees into the shiggy within 100 metres or so of the start of the run. Things improved a bit from this point and we headed south through the village-y bit before swinging east and heading for the pani. There was a degree of confusion in one or two places where checks had been swept up or simply not seen (because LBH doesn’t understand how much paper is used by Hares who actually lay paper on their hashes). Anyway, we ended up more or less all together out on an island (well, it was an island last week). From here we headed north along a causeway that had only recently surfaced, to emerge below the huge statue of yet another freedom fighter and then on towards the wide savannah of the undeveloped Bashundara housing area. Walkers and runners had come together, or at least the trails did but the walkers must have been moving quickly as they were well out of sight. Having meandered around the open lakeside for a while the trails split again, both walkers and runners heading into the tall grass but in diametrically opposite directions. The runners set off north along the asphalt before cutting back to the dual carriageway and up to the more usual On-In site for this part of the world, only to find no cars waiting. By this time the runners were down to one guiding Hare, the rather knackered Penis and Crusty Lobster having dragged Towed off into the tall grass to follow the walkers trail. The final run in was along the lakeside with the pack missing the final check and heading in along the road instead of across the sand. Meanwhile the walkers, who had all been back scoffing ale for a while by this time, had wended their way along the lakeside then turned north towards the On-In, but taking a diversion known only to the walking Hares to get back via a tortuous route through the tall grass.
Tiptoeing through the shiggy
And the results
Giant Haystacks
	The Circle The circle was a bit like a member of the where-the-f**k-are we tribe – short and dark. Once the search party had been despatched to find Condom and anyone else who the Hares had been careless enough to lose, the GM started things moving. First in were the Hares, receiving completely undeserved accolades as usual, the pack not having the collective wit to appreciate a phenomenal, once in a lifetime run when they’ve been on one. (being able to say things like this about your own runs is one of the few benefits of being Hash Scribe). The two virgin runners were next, both being BRAC interns and if the photo is anything to go by, not sure (or caring) which planet they’re on. Having said that they both seemed to relish the running. There were no new runners or returnees, this being more of a time to leave than arrive, but there were simply hordes of leavers. Too many to list and no idea where they were going as, to save time, the GM got them to tell her all at once. One thing for sure though, there’ll be a few sex tourists in their numbers. Having cleared them off in two batches, the GM handed over to a seriously fragile RA. Since I did not take any notes and the RA omitted to give me his, it gets a bit blurry from here on. Mind you, the participants can’t remember either, as I’m sitting here in Dubai airport with FYOS looking at a picture of him and W&F getting a down-down, and he hasn’t a clue what it was for. Blow Job was the first to suffer the subdued wrath of the RA, she being largely responsible for his delicate condition having introduced the term “Tequila” to his vocabulary the previous night. She was soon joined by Tuneless Cow and the GM for some unknown reason. I will not dwell any further on why FYOS and Warm & Fluffy were chastised, but their moment of glory was quickly superseded by the return of Condom and colleague who had been doing a credible imitation of the where-the-f**k-are we tribe, having been lost out in the tall grass for an hour or so. Via a couple of minor diversions the discussion veered towards the evening’s World Cup rugby matches. The only result in doubt was that of the later game between France and the Kiwis. In order to get a feel for how it would go the RA called in representatives from each nation to lay down their challenges. We were treated to a great rendering of the New Zealand Haka and, in the face of such a challenge, the French response was to giggle and run away. Having sorted that out, it was time for more hash-related business. It would appear that the walking Hares had missed their way at some stage, incurring the wrath of Carol, who was overheard to be muttering obscenities at them. The RA, having today bottled out of the run opted for the walk, overheard this and decided it was worthy of a name. As with all namings, the end result wasn’t clear but I think it ended up as Hairy Cracker. The RA then realised that Nicole also was nameless and so, having faced up to the might of the Kiwi, he suggested The French Haqueur. However, Bum Deal reckoned she’d made such a f**k-up of it that it should be Haqueur Fuqueur, which was pretty much unanimously approved. A final call on the Hares was made by Webfart over the lack of Iftar snacks before the GM closed proceedings. On On, Towed
Latter-day hippy virgins
One batch of leavers
Girls allowed, but why?
The Lost Boys
Hairy Cracker	Haka meets Haqueur				Haqueur Fuqueur