Dar Hash House Harriers

The Hash House Harriers or 'Hash' is a running club with a drinking problem. Started in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, in 1938 by British colonial officers who wanted a modicum of exercise post weekend excess of drinking, it has grown to be a truly worldwide phenomenon.

see www.gthhh.com or
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hash_House_Harriers for the detailed history.

I started hashing at the age of 5 in Khartoum, Sudan, 1983.. In those days Allan McMurdoh (sp.?) was Grand Master and in the years that followed I can remember many a hash ending up at our hash near the white Nile where I learnt many rude songs more often than not with hand gesture to compliment.. My school teachers did not find my renditions of said songs very amusing and had to call in my parents. I suspect their excuse was 'well he is a hasher now.' Not unlike many other social clubs (as I was to find out later) and for that matter religions, the hash opened a whole new vocabulary and social norms.

And so to my first Dar hash (www.darhhh.com). Actually getting there was interesting enough - with traffic jams from the city centre I opted to walk to an area known as the peninsular. An hour into the hike in 32 celcius heat and 15 mins to reach the gathering, I had taken a cut through back streets towards the rough area. Looking around a young man on a motorbike had stopped to chat to friends and so with the promise of plenty of fuel money we bounced around asking mahindi sellers (roasted corn on the cob) there whereabouts of a supermarket name and junction a hasher had furnished me with.

sure enough the pack was milling around and easy to spot. Annie AKA dominatrix was there, a hashing friend from Moshi and in true hash form people were both from vastly varied backgrounds and welcoming.

The on out was called, the sun dropping and the trail well marked in shreded paper. Dar is humid but as everyone tends to sweat at the flick of a finger, we were all soaked from the outset of the run.

half way around there was a drink stop - beer or water or even wine! The final on-in was... gaseous.

Back at the gathering point, as it tradition, we opened the first of a few beers. The were Norwegans, brits, Americans, Kenyans, Tanzanzians and a few other globe trotters besides.

Most people have a 'hash name' - some are obvious and some downright rude - 'little sausage' and 'camp bed' were memorable, 'skid marks' and 'Jingle boobs' were rather unforgetable and my own name, earned at age 15 in Limassol, Cyprus, is obvious to some.

Before an excellent spread of food there was the circle - the crux of the drinking problem part of the slogan, though perhaps I was luckier than some (me holiday, everyone else - monday night). Beer and wine fines were handed out liberally by the GM (Grand Master) and RA (Religious Advisor) - they even had a special song for me as I heralded from Arusha: if you happen to go for a hash in Dar then just say 'Arusha', it ellicits a very specific response.

Beer was inbibed, songs were sung, food was eaten. A great hash and then good friends of Emanuel 'Wailer' insisted on putting me up for the night. It just so happens that a fellow hasher who lives at the same house hashed and lived in Khartoum and the same time as us...

Dar Pick-Pockets

So I left Dar bus terminal and caught a City Bus on route to the Posta, which is close to the train station (to Dodoma, Tabora, Kigoma NOT TAZARA).

The buses are all in some state of disrepair but run fairly well. We arrived the edges of the CBD and everyone was told to get out and join another bus, there were not enough people on this bus to complete the journey... Ok, so the 15 people left trundled off and lined up to board the one in front (FOC this time!). On boarding some Jamaa (slang for bloke) smelling of pombe (booze) tries to board behind me in a very pushy way - either this guy had some serious affection for me or he was up to something. Looking down, sure enough, my backpack waist belt pocket was open and my PDA was exposed ready to go! The little bugger. This is where speaking swahili ready comes in handy and after calling his relatives some not to be mentioned here slang for a bodypart, and then pushed him away calling him a 'mwizi' / thief. well that's all you need in a crowd and hey presto the chap received a number of smacks to his head. The conductor even grabbed him and asked me to alight to place some choice blows in all the wrong places... I was rather tempted. But knowing that these things can really go nasty - thing burning tyres, I just said leave him and off we went.

Near the old post office I headed West towards the police station and railway. A pretty quite and unassuming railway there was none the less one person at the ticket office.
'treni inaenda kigoma kesho?'
'ndio'
'naomba tiketi ya first class thafedhali'
'iko ya sekundi tuu'
'sawa'.
In other words I purchased a second class ticket to Kigoma as first class was full. 44,000 tsh via Tabora.
And then a lady turned up behind the ticket reservations person and asked if I wanted an mchumbani for the journey. I said not this time, but thanks! I think she was joking. Mchumbani, in polite parlance, would be some company for the journey. Like a temporary wife..

Next up - the Dar Hash! The running club with a drinking problem, not the 'herb'..

Arusha to Dar bus

I choose Dar Express at 25,000 tsh.
Woke plenty early and then Nangs drove me down.
left station at 5.58am. Nangs typically upset that I am leaving her for so long. I wish she would come with. Let it begin!
Gps shows max speed 127kmph. Dar express livin up to it's name.
Maji ya chai 6.26 am. Despite voracious braking action the moving average is 65kmph - the beskirted lady conductor steadfast despite deceleration forces that would make an astronaught grimace..
Dawn fights with the clouds and ahead thick banks of rain make the sky and earth one. Kilimanjaro certainly not visible and the tanzanite yielding blue mountains to the south are being quickly eaten by the approaching rain clouds as we hurtle east.
Plains nr KIA airport a dustbowl. Reminder that drought is coming. 2009 will be a drought year in so many ways..
7.09am Moshi town. Movin avr 75kmph. 879m asl.
Once we turn down south there is cloud cover but no recent signs of rain. The soil turns the relatively young reds and rich browns to sandy soils, their light colour indicative of their high silica content. The Pares are to the left and to our right the Pangani fault and valley are clearly visible. A future mountain bike reccy is a must. The Pangani valley looks stunning.
The railway and road are partners for a long way side by side for mile upon mile. Why is it not used more? I'll ask in dar at the station.
144km in, the sisal plantations start. The rows provide a geometric backdrop and have been farmed here for around 80 years.
Planted for their fibres, these agaves produce a dramatic flowering stem at the end of their lives, and that stem is also used extensively for roofing poles and even fencing. sisal has always been subject the world demand which has waned due to our every growing reliance on petroleum products - plastics and synthetic fibres. But - consumer demand is fickle. Recent years have seen an upturn in demand for natural fibres but I wonder if a more stable use would make a difference? Can this agave also be used to make a mighty beverage?? My friends from the states tell me that tequila is made from the fermenting of the core of an agave species- tis high time the 'Pangani' elixior is born!
Same at 08h27. 182km, 867 masl.
At Korogwe we stopped for a toilet and food session (10.15am) where buddy Peter 'cobra' did the honorable thing and bought some tins of Tusker - with over 16 Monde Selection Gold Medals it's hard too go wrong. Well, until about the 5th one and then good luck.
Back on the road the coconut palms became more prolific - littering the undulating hills were plentiful mango and groundnut trees (needs reference check). All of these trees certainly not locals (indigenous) but absolutely litering this route, hardly suprising these productive fruits and nuts making their way into the interior following trading routes that have been established for millenia. The groundnut more recent though from failed socialist schemes in recent Tanzanian history.
The bus reaches Chalinze - 536 km from Arusha and now very humid. 12h46 and about another hour to dar.
636 kms and we are in the bus station! It was around 2.30pm and time to get to the train station to buy the ticket to Kigoma. The buses are marked clearly and so I took the bus to 'posta' in the town centre.. But something happened on the way..

Tusker T-Time

So, Tz is a small place. On the road I was pleasantly suprised to see friend and kilimanjaro / serengeti walking safari guide Peter 'cobra'. We had worked together over the years and now, it being past 10am 'n all, we are in the process of sharing a beer or two.

location: just outside Korogwe, max speed 142kmph, average 87.4kmph, 363kms down.

This afternoon set for joining the Dar Es Salaam Hash house Harriers. Lesley 'boogey Boobs' gave me a call and let me know that the hounds were gathering at the penisula. On on!

Arusha to Dar - let it begin!

Finally start the journey. First to Dar.. Full report later on. In Dar Express - max speed 142kmph, average 86.2kmph, 225km so far.

Requirements for a rec-E

In 2 days or less the Summits Africa team is off on safari - rather reminiscent of the early explorers in so far as we have no real idea where we are going, but we've heard that slaves used to be traded along the routes we want to follow.

so that's route planning done then.

Next means of transportation. I always say increase the adventure and choose a steed that has a least some chance of choking to death on poisonous exotic flora or breaking down half way between somewhere and nowhere. I think our 1982 pickup landy should fit the bill nicely.

Provisions! I put the curry powder out last night. We, by we I mean me and the Wailer - not as some might think my missus, but my good friend Emanuel Motta AKA 'wailer', check a photo in case ur still a wonderin, I digress. Ah yes, provisions for an epic 3 week journey: we hear there are tasty beverages to be traded along the way and so I think it's time to go. Next up - what we have forgotten...