Ever since moving overseas, I had heard about "The Hash," but never strongly considered participating in it. "Hash" is the nickname for the Hash House Harriers, a running club founded by British expats in Malaysia in 1938. Today, Hash groups have spread all over the world, especially in major cities with expat populations.
There were two reasons I never had much interest in the Hash before. First reason - I don't like running. Now, those of you who've known me a long time will say "What?!? But you ran track in high school, and you play soccer. What do you mean you don't like running?" I don't mind running as part of a sport or competition, but going out for a jog ranks pretty low on my list of enjoyable activities. Second reason - What I had heard about the Hash made it sound a bit like a cult of weirdos. People often mentioned the Hash with a bit of a raised eyebrow, so I worried what I might be getting into if I participated.
But here in Baku, I kept meeting more and more people who were actual Hashers. And they weren't weirdos! Eventually, curiosity got the best of me and I decided I needed to check it out. Plus it didn't hurt that the group was meeting the following Sunday just two blocks from my house.
For each run, one Hash member volunteers to be the leader, selects a starting point, and maps out a route to the ending point. But the rest of the group does not know the route or the end point. They only know the starting point, and then have to follow chalk arrows that the leader has drawn on the sidewalk along the route. On my first Hash, I immediately thought, "Well, this isn't running, this is a scavenger hunt, what fun!"
Once we reached the end point, I finally got to see why mentions of the Hash were often accompanied by raised eyebrows. The tagline of the Hash is that it's "The Drinking Club with a Running Problem." Every run ends with a bucket of beer, drinking penalties given out for any faux-pas anyone had committed along the way, and drinking songs sung with lots of rhyming sexual innuendo. A little bit weird, yes, but not too weird for me!
So, I kept returning and eventually Jeremy (who REALLY didn't like running) started going as well. After you go enough times and prove you aren't just a "tourist" checking out your options, you get formally initiated as a Hasher with a flour and beer bath. The Baku Hash has been an important part of my physical, mental, and social well-being in Baku, so I'm glad I overcame my initial reservations to become part of the Hash family. On on!!
