P2H3 Hash Trash Blog

The Muscle Wine Drinking Club With a Slimy Dyke Problem

A Brief (not at all) History of the Indochina Full Moon Hash

Posted by p2h3hashtrash on November 15, 2010

Author:  Bobo, GM, YH3

Some background information on this timeless tradition may be useful (or not as the case may be but you are going to get it anyway). The genesis of this run started way back in the mists of time when dinosaurs still roamed the planet – like Phlegm. Shortly before the dawn of mankind, a group of proto-hominids, known as Hashers, visited Siem Reap for the 7th Mekong Indochina Hash. After completing a run around the temples of Angkor Wat, the Hashers assembled on a dusty plain to observe arcane rituals, which were supervised by their High Priest, Flip Flop (see picture).
Sometime after darkness fell, Flip Flop espied the moon and he determined that his congregation were sufficiently purified that they could go and eat and drink and make merry. So he dismissed them with a cheery injunction to “Get on the damn busses and go home!” The crowd instantly dispersed and got on the damn busses – but then Hash planning made itself felt. The busses were parked on a plain that consisted of something close to quicksand. Any attempt to move the busses after they had sat there for several hours only resulted in them getting further bogged down. The few busses that were free to move were used to try and pull out the ones mired in the bog. Result: you guessed it – more busses bogged down up to the axles in shiggy.

Net result was that many a Hasher had to trek out to the road and flag down a passing tuk tuk/ moto/taxi/bicycle with padded rear luggage rack, etc. Result: lots of happy Khmers making dollars from desperados The beer truck finally left (but not before beers had been safely stowed in backpacks for what looked like being a long walk home!) and during the ensuing mass exodus BoBo ventured to Flip Flop that they should call it the inaugural Mekong Indochina Full Moon Hash and that the event was worthy of a special T-shirt. Flip Flop agreed and a roll-call was taken to record for posterity those who took part. 23 names were recorded and 16 of them were drunk enough to part with cash there and then in return for a promise of an exclusive T-shirt. Flip Flop took the money off the gullible and promised that a special edition T-shirt would be promptly put in the post and would most likely be waiting on the Hashers doorsteps before they even got home.

A month or so later, when BoBo noted that his doorstep remained free of Hasherdabbery, he made a casual enquiry to Flip Flop to find out what progress he had made. “None,” was the answer but it did prompt Flip Flop to come up with a design (which looks strangely similar to the one dished out in Phnom Penh in 2010!). In true Flip Flop Hash fashion he then tried to pass on all responsibility for further enhancements to BoBo, who politely declined.

And there, dear reader, the ball stopped rolling. The 16 Hashers who invested their hard-earned cash in T-shirt futures, got burned and so endeth Run No. ½.

Fast forward the clock from the Cretaceous Period (ca. 2004) to 2009 when the Mekong Indochina Hash visited Yangon and turned back its watch by 30 years. BoBo was still waiting for his T-shirt from Flip Flop but had come to realise that if he wanted a Mekong Indochina Full Moon Hash T-shirt he would have to make one himself. This he decided to do and so he announced Run 1½ and persuaded 80-odd souls to take a run around the Shwedagon, through monasteries and ancient bamboo groves in the middle of downtown Yangon and to get bombarded with missiles hurled by the irate abbot of a religious establishment who took umbrage at Hashers disturbing the peace and tranquility of his little empire. Apart from some slight injuries to the leg of Yogi Bra, the Hash otherwise went off without incident and it was adjudged by all and sundry as being a bloody good run and perhaps better than the regular weekend runs. All who took part were presented with a lovely bespoke T-shirt – and it looked nothing like the design that Flip Flop had sent to BoBo five years earlier!

Fast forward another year and BoBo found out that Flip Flop was again in residence in Phnom Penh after a long sojourn to Australia, Africa and elsewhere. “Where’s my T-shirt?” enquired BoBo. Flip Flop’s replies were akin to those that would have been sent by a frightened rabbit caught in the headlights – if only rabbits could write (and it’s arguable whether Flip Flop can write – well write anything other than technogeek). BoBo suggested that things could be remedied if another Full moon Run was organised. Easy!

To cut a very long story short, Flip Flop agreed to produce a T-shirt if BoBo would help to Hare a run and produce a design. Done deal said BoBo. He instantly mailed back the (unproduced) design for the Siem Reap Run. However, since he didn’t know diddly squat about Phnom Penh, he asked for some help on the run-setting front and so Flip Flop volunteered the services of STD. That’s delegation for you. He must be an excellent manager in the real world. So, after running around the countryside of Phnom Penh for two days, BoBo found himself having breakfast with STD and Flip Flop on Monday morning and was gratified to hear that all was under control – well all except the fact that the T-shirts had not yet been printed, that the route of the Hash had not been decided upon and the method of marking the trail had not even been thought about. Thus Run No. 2 ½ started in the manner in which it meant to continue!

However, planning of a sort had in fact started a couple of days previously. BoBo remarked to Flip Flop that it might help if an announcement was made at the Circle at the end of the Saturday Hash to let people know that there would be a “Special Run” on Monday. This seemed to resonate with Flip Flop but unfortunately the hurried cold and wet Circle on the boat wasn’t an ideal venue to make such an announcement and so BoBo put Plan B into action. Enlist the services of a good-looking Harriette!

Yogi Bra’s fervent attempt to collect money for this thing on Saturday evening, when all were well and drunk, resulted in a huge influx of cash and a huge lack of comprehension over what exactly one would get for one’s $5 contribution. In truth, the lack of comprehension extended to the Hares, who, at their Monday morning pre-trail-laying breakfast meeting, wondered how many slabs of beer they needed to steal in order to satisfy the thirsts of everyone that threatened to show up.

Will anyone figure out what the hell is going on?  Stay tuned for the actual run report…

On On!

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