Dave’s Tips for Travelers #3: Find Where the “Hash House Harriers” are Running

On Saturday, I think I may have joined a cult. I had always thought this would be something I would want to avoid. But then Saturday afternoon there I was roaming the rural hillsides of Kathmandu in a taxi with some friends looking for shreds of paper on the ground that would indicate where to take our next turn in order to find the groups rotating weekly meeting spot. Many, many wrong turns later I found myself standing in the middle of a dirt field surrounded by both foreigners and Nepalis, making a Rs.250 offering to participate in the days ceremonies. Immediately thereafter an old British man known as “the Grandmaster” ordered us all to form a large circle and began collectively berating us for all of our human faults. Fortunately, this public shaming did not last long because it was time to begin the “cult’s” two most central (and apparently only) sacraments: running and drinking beer.

The Hash House Harriers is an international organization commonly described as a “drinking club with a running problem.” It was apparently first started by British expatriates living in Malaysia in 1938 who would plan long runs through their exotic surroundings and has since spawned chapters all over the globe. As the club has evolved a series of elaborate secret signals and sacred rituals has evolved with it. In Nepal, the Himalayan Hash House Harriers formed in 1979 and has counted students, businessmen, development workers, diplomats, and even the former U.S. Ambassador among its members. Not really knowing what to expect, I had just begun my first run.

The route for the run is laid out that morning by the weeks run leaders (called “Hares”) and is marked by small piles of finely shredded paper left in various patterns to indicate checkpoints, dead-ends, false-trails or simply as an assurance that you are still on the right path despite the muddy earth that has just crumbled down the mountain beneath your feet. Throughout "the Hash", runners communicate with each other through shouting one of several coded commands (such as "on, on" and "are you?") to indicate when they have found a trail or a dead-end.

It was a truly incredible run in so many ways. Running along the edges of rice paddies and terraced fields, clambering up and sliding down steep and muddy hillsides, and fording small streams (while avoiding leeches) was all incredibly thrilling. And trying to keep pace running at such high altitudes up even higher hills was incredibly exhausting, but when you were able to focus on anything else but how to catch your next breath, the views you were treated to in exchange were indescribable.

It was also an incredible spectacle. If you think that a 6’6” white guy in Nepal is quite a sight on its own (I doubt Dr. Phil in drag would get so many stares on the streets of Los Angeles), now imagine that guy running amongst a pack of dozens of other similarly visually jarring foreigners ,covered in mud and sweat, through rural Nepali villages and mountaintop monasteries. Some bystanders must have thought a new strange colonial aerobic-apocalypse was upon them (fortunately, the HHHH has no such eschatology… that I know of).

Approaching the finish line I witnessed my first Hash House Harriers miracle – despite running who knows where for who knows how long we ended up right back where we had started. And after reaching the finish, I immediately experienced a second and even greater miracle as exhausted Hashers were greeted with a giant cooler filled to the brim with beer. Lots and lots of beer. And after what was nearly an hour and a half of clambering up and down mountains at 1800 meters, this appeared to be the Hash’s greatest doctrine yet. After all, isn’t rehydration critical after a run like that? So I quickly set out to fully replenish my fluids as other runners, and eventually the walkers trickled in.

When everybody had safely returned to the finish we were again brought into a circle by our fearless (and perhaps insane) "Grandmaster" who resumed berating Hashers as if he never stopped. The Grandmaster (who was actually a really nice guy when he is not putting on the show) then brought different individuals to the center of the circle and for various reasons singled them out for personalized berating and the flock would join the Grand Master in songs about these individuals (the Himalayan Hash House Harriers Hymn, if you will). Beer is obviously an integral part of this stage of the event as well. If you are new to the Hash (like I was) or are a “Hash Crasher,” meaning you fall down a lot on the steep muddy hills (like I obviously was) you too will be brought to the middle and yelled at. More secret songs will be sung about you (all slightly tailored variations on the same original song), and you will chug more beer (any beer you do not finish before the song is over is to be dumped on your head).

So perhaps all cults aren’t necessarily bad after all. This one seemed to combine all the cultish fun of a secret, ritualistic society helmed by a sadistic, egomaniacal leader without all the creepiness of eating human hearts and the weirdness of awkwardly waiting around for a spaceship. And until any of that weird stuff shows up, as a new and loyal wide-eyed follower, I will happily do my duty trying to recruit new followers to the Hash House Harriers. It's great exercise, a great way to see the countryside, a great way to meet fun people, and Nepali beer has never tasted quite so heavenly. If you find yourself pretty much anywhere in the world looking for something to do, find where the Hash House Harriers are running.

I Ate Goat Tail Last Night

I really do not know what more there is to say about it. I was going to write something about my weekend, but this seems to take precedence over pretty much anything else I could possibly write. Why not goat brain, you may ask? Well, I had already tried that and the restaurant was out of their evening’s supply anyway. It is nice to know that nothing goes to waste...

And, no, goat tail does not taste like chicken.

I think that is the end of the issue.

Some Real Nepali News...

On Tuesday in Nepal a fuel shortage basically brought all motorized transport in Kathmandu to a halt. The petrol pumps that people were already lining up for hours at a time to refuel from had now run completely dry. Agitating motorists blocked the roads to protest the governments handling of the situation. The police told the Kathmandu Post they had to make use of "light force" to clear the road.

The picture that ran with the article sheds a lot of light on Nepali police perceptions of "light force:"

I am off to (Royal) Chitwan National Park this weekend to ride elephants and spot rhinos, or ride rhinos and spot elephants... I am not really sure which. So if you read any news stories about Nepali tigers mauling a 6 foot 6 white man to death... it's a good bet that it is about me.

And Happy (belated) Fourth of July. America really is a wonderful land.

Celeb-ration: Happy for Paris. Embarrassed for Pretty Much Everybody Else

Ok, so I was as relieved as everyone else to hear the good news that Paris Hilton’s long period of unjust incarceration (three weeks, with one vacation) had finally come to an end. Paris was a changed woman and she was once again free to resume her complicated dual societal identity of being a rich heiress by day and a famous party-girl by night. America’s long national nightmare (ok, three weeks with one vacation and one Barbara Walters phone interview) of having one of its dearest celebrities in captivity had finally ended.

I was not so happy though, to read this news on the top center of the front-page of one of Nepal’s major national English newspapers sandwiched neatly between news about how state-sanctioned torture remains rampant throughout the country despite the recent peace agreement and calls for the impeachment of the Chief Justice of the Nepali Supreme Court. I do not want to trivialize what Paris has gone through or even its undeniable newsworthiness in America. But seriously, there happen to be some important events going on in Nepal right now. The devastating ten year civil war may finally be at an end and a constituent assembly election looms that will either pave the way for a bright future or spell the doom of the nation. The monarchy may be abolished. The Maoists may abandon the peace agreement or splinter into even more violent factions. The military may seize power in the face of continued fighting and inept and corrupt politicians. Yet I am reading at the top of the Himalayan Times about Paris Hilton’s looming interview with Larry King?

Of course, I understand that what happens in America will often have ramifications in nations all over the world. American news is often legitimate front-page Nepali news. But somehow the skeptic in me is certain that Paris’ release from the Los Angeles County Jail for driving with a suspended license was not one of those news events.

So, first of all, I am a bit embarrassed for America. Is this really who we want to be choosing as America’s mascot? Couldn’t we at least choose a celebrity that has maybe some commercial success, critical acclaim, or ass-kicking credibility? Some of our celebrities exemplify all three. I mean, for Heaven’s sake, Bruce Willis just released a new Die Hard movie! America does some pretty great things at home and abroad, but in Nepal right now we are basically only known for two things right now: the War on Terror and Paris Hilton. This does not seem like the way to put our best feet forward…

I am also a bit embarrassed for Nepal. I understand the innate human need for diversion in the midst of the harder realities of life. And Nepalis have certainly had their share of tragic realities they should want diversion from. I know that being able to smile and laugh despite facing the world's ugliest horrors may sometimes be the best way to preserve some semblance of mental health. But couldn’t they have come up with a better diversion than Paris? I mean, I would settle for a Family Circus cartoon. Those at least pair laughter with tender lessons about life and family (especially these). And it is not like Nepal lacks their own hollow, good-for-little celebrities to fixate on. If all else fails, they still have a Royal Family.

But probably most of all, I am embarrassed for myself. Because with all the important things going on in the world my knowledge and love for celebrity gossip and pop-culture may rival that of the entire E! Television Network. That Paris Hilton article was the first thing I read in the paper and every morning I dutifully turn to the celebrity gossip section of the Kathmandu Post to find out what Angelina and Sir Paul McCartney have been up to. And it is not like this is even good celebrity gossip here. It is generally untimely, inaccurate and mixed in with a high percentage of Euro-gossip about “football stars,” Ronan Keating and other royal families I should not care about. And yet I cannot stay away. I cannot get enough of it. And I am a little embarrassed.

But seriously Paris, I really am happy for you.

Dave’s Tips for Travelers # 2: Bring Lots of Extra Underwear

As we all know, whether you are traveling or not, one can never have too many spare undergarments. One never knows when having that one extra clean pair will come in handy. But this rule is more pronounced when it comes to traveling … where you do not know when your next laundry trip might occur; and even more so when it comes to traveling outside of the Western world where you are unfamiliar with the many things that might cause you to need a new pair. Yes, this may be an uncomfortable topic to write about but it is something that must be discussed. Because personally, I do not know if I have the nerves of steel and underoos aplenty that are necessary to survive in an unfamiliar country, and I want to make sure that others come prepared. Two incidents that occurred within my first forty-eight hours in the country serve to illustrate my point.

My second night in Nepal, I was searching for an ATM that would accept my American bank card. My search had been both fruitless and frustrating with bank machine after bank machine giving me nonsensical and/or insulting messages like “Your Bank is Too Busy, Try Again Later” (literally) or “We will not accept your card because we think you are a bad person, go away” (author’s paraphrase). So late in the evening I found myself stuffed into a hot, phone-booth style ATM with my back to the small, extremely-crowded touristy street. As yet another electronic machine began to tell me that my bank was unwilling to do business with me tonight and list the many things I could improve about my personal hygiene, I heard the sound of a car drive up the road and then an enormous explosion not more than a few feet behind me shook the glass in my small bank booth. Maoist attack? Gas main explosion? Building collapse? All were regular possibilities but I did not know what had occurred this time. But I do know I jumped so high the Himalayas nearly had some competition (rim shot). I slowly turned around (showcasing my uselessly lethargic reflexes) to see steam flowing out from the hood of the car and water pouring out from beneath it. The car’s radiator had exploded. And my radiator had just about exploded as well…

The next incident came the following day, in a much less dramatic fashion, as I was moving into my new apartment (virtual tour forthcoming…). I grabbed my backpack in my new bedroom to unpack it when I discovered a large spider guarding the front of the bag. It was “Arachnaphobia” big... if not bigger. In fact, I think I saw a movie where Godzilla battled a similar sized creature throughout the streets of Tokyo. I do not know a lot about spiders but I was pretty sure that this was the kind that could jump long distances, shoot its poison up to fifty meters, and start fires with its laser-heat vision. I would have taken pictures but as you could have guessed, my camera was in the backpack.

I jumped back (much less lethargically this time) and shuddered like my life depended on it. If I hadn’t been so dehydrated and jet-lagged, I would be down one more pair of Captain America collectibles (see below). A spider like this is no new thing in a country like Nepal, but I stood there paralyzed for 10 minutes before I even started to formulate a plan for how to reclaim my backpack. With the plan formed, the next ten minutes consisted of me standing over the backpack with tennis shoes on both of my hands trying to work up the courage to attack my nemesis. And the ten minutes after that (failed) attack were spent frantically searching for the creature after he got away and fretting about when he would return or where he would reappear. And to complete the picture for you, I spent the last ten minutes before I fell asleep curled up in the fetal position, crying and hoping he would not exact his revenge in the dead of the night. I still break out in a cold sweat just writing about the possibility.

So yes, in these first two incidents I narrowly escaped the need for fresh boxers but keep in mind I may just be too embarrassed to write about the times that my luck has run out. That is why I have an abundance of clean underwear with me. If you can relate to either of the above stories, I suggest that when you travel, you prepare in the same way.

This post has been brought to you by:

Here's a thought....

Here's a quick thought: if you live in a country where using toilet paper in the bathroom is not the norm and blatantly picking your nose in public is, at least dry off your hand a little bit before trying to shake mine.

Just a (sadly not-so-random) thought.

Further in the Future

So, it turns out I am much further in the future than I had first suspected. My first suspicions that I may be living in the future came my second day in the country when I examined the front page of that day’s “The Himalayan Times” which casually noted the year was 2064. Whaaa??!!! Was the frequent turbulence that I too carefully dismissed on my Qatar Airlines flight actually my plane passing through some sort of time warp or worm hole? Had my jet-lag actually sent me into some sort of 57 year Rip Van Winkle style deep-sleep? I did not know what had happened. But many signs over the next few days confirmed my suspicions I was living in the future. I walked through the crowded streets to see vendors selling DVDs of movies that had not even been released in U.S. theaters yet. I also saw vehicles line up for hours at a time to get fuel from the petrol pumps, confirming that the always feared worldwide gasoline shortage was now a reality.

Eventually I learned that my time travel was neither wormhole nor jetlag induced but rather a Nepali decision in 1958 for their nation to live in the future. It turns out that Nepal’s skewing of their time-zone fifteen minutes ahead of Indian Standard Time is not the only way they have cemented its' place as the South Asian country of the future. They have also jumped over half a century ahead of everyone else in the world by adopting an official calendar that is 56 years, 8 months, and seventeen days ahead of Gregorian, A.D. time. Thus by the Nepali calendar, it is 2064 B.S. (Bikram Sambat).

As a man living in the future I feel the duty to occasionally tell those in the past what they can expect in the years to come. So, here are a few useful things I have observed thus far.

Flying Cars

Unfortunately, cars still do not fly. But, you can often find chickens and goats riding on public transportation – a positive sign that humans and livestock will one day learn to coexist peacefully. While the goats are sometimes forced to ride on the roof of the buses, many humans will choose to ride on the roofs of buses as well.

Global Warming

Good news -- the global warming problem has been solved! I know this because the seeming complete lack of concern here for the massive amounts of pollution from factories, burning trash, and vehicle emissions indicates that by 2064 humanity has found another way to curb the dangerous problem of climate change. There can be no other explanation. So, worry no more about that whole “Inconvenient Truth” stuff (though it does rain a whole lot in the future…). But you may want to have a good surgical mask for that whole breathing thing…

Monkeys Everywhere!

But the best news of all may be that in the future, monkeys are everywhere. Ok, well, maybe not quite everywhere, but there are way more monkeys than there were back in the past. In fact, they even have an entire temple in the future known as "the Monkey Temple." I have not been there yet, but you better believe it is at the top of my to do list. And I would like to believe, that the monkeys there are those really smart super-monkeys.

Unfortunately, for fear of disrupting the space-time continuum, that is all I really feel I should say right now. Hopefully, in time, I will be able to reveal more.