Mauritius Hash Trash 622

27-05-2012 Jet Ranch Ravin BYO #622

VENUE: Jet Ranch

HARES: Ravin

HASH 622 – GRAND DIMANCHE FETE DE MERES

Following the issue of the last Trash, an avid reader registered a complaint regarding the plural of dwarf claiming that the correct form is dwarfs & not dwarves as mentioned therein. As a matter of fact, the plural dwarves was originally introduced by Tolkien in his book “The Hobbit” & although the term dwarfs is philologically correct, no less a mighty reference than the Oxford English Dictionary mentions that both versions are acceptable variants. This critic will remain nameless suffice to say that if this incognito was one of the seven dwarfs/ves he would be Grumpy – and although he may very well know the difference between his trapezium from his trapeze and his rectangle from his rectum, he clearly doesn’t know that there is no difference between his dwarfs and his dwarves. Indeed, if there were 5 versions of the Scribe mulling around this middle earth (God forbid), they would surely not mind a leprechaun’s fingernail at being called dwarves. As a completely useless & uninteresting aside, the real historical plural of dwarf is “dwarrows”. Case settled in favour of the dwarfendant, my ‘lud.
The storm clouds raged restlessly across myriad horizons as Mother Day announced itself with bellowing windsqualls & driving rain which proved an ominous portent for the day ahead. As the Scribe quietly thanked the quixotic Rain Gods for the replenished reserves at the Mare Au Vacoas, he noticed that the reservoir bore a striking resemblance to the rugged Southern coastline with tempestuous waves surging against the water’s edge. The scene was antipodean opposite to the barren image not 3 months ago when the cracked baked claybed looked like a drought ravaged region of South Sudan. And from seemingly out of nowhere a luminescent rainbow illuminated the menacing skies in a colourful show of defiance. It may have been similar unruly climatic conditions when that that legendary biblical savior, Noah, built the seaborne vessel for couplets of animals to seek refuge from the deluge.
Only the hardcore brave & stubborn seduced themselves to turn up at the On On at Jet Ranch lodge perhaps preferring to tempt the unappetizing providence of double pneumonia than to relax at home playing dominoes with the unbetter half (of course this sentiment does not apply to the Scribe who regularly has to pinch himself when reflecting on the unequivocal purity of his marital bliss – although he does wonder why his finger keeps wanting to invert the “I” & “t” of the penultimate word). The ludicrous young cynic Girish Raj made an unwelcome reappearance looking like an emaciated & undernourished famine victim having shed a healthy amount of kilograms in a vain effort to retain his youthful glamorosity/glumorosity (delete as applicable). As it was, his head was approximately about 4 sizes too big for his body & it seemed that an outsized featureless bubonic Savoy cabbage had been symbiotically attached to a freak tadpole’s body. However, it was disconcerting to note that the sinister forest dweller was not at the post-Hash circle sparking fears/celebrations (delete as applicable) that he had been biodegradably disintegrated by the wind & the rain – we just need to cross our fingers that reincarnation is as mythical a science as Santa Claus delivering gifts to all children all over the world in a sleigh pulled by flying reindeer with only a solitary red nose as a visibility facility. The multitude were fooled into thinking that the shimmering rainbow over the reservoir made a reappearance at the lodge & having caused temporary blindness, it soon became clear that it was merely the brightly appointed Hari in his dazzling spectrum T-Shirt. The soon-to-become extinct Ice Man, Gaetan is still wearing his assorted beaded necklaces & cruciform emblems perhaps still suggesting that he is fighting the devils & the demons that seek to unsettle his karma – come to think of it we have never had a proper fanatical Hash exorcist so it might be opportune to bring this up as “Any Other Business” on the agenda at the next mushy mishmashmanagement meeting. We should not be afraid of embracing change particularly as Buffy the Vampire Slayer has gone into early retirement.
This week, the GM was highly inconspicuous by his presence & welcomed the guest hares, Ravin & Lord Russelll, to explain that the flour had been completely swept away by the rain thereby decimating the trail to oblivion. However, Ravin had the presence of mind to announce that he would take the revelers on a nature expedition through the chasse. A minority group of assorted vaguely athletic incompetents (headed by the Scribe) decided on running a do-It-yourself trail with the result that various mini-groups were trotting around in ever decreasing circles until they found the lodge again.
Returnee Brice (rumours of his abduction by aliens from outer space had been greatly exaggerated) did not make it home in time to avoid being completely waterlogged & he would have been a facile victor of any Miss Wet T-Shirt competition. Dodocop arrived home dry as a bone but he did have the foresight to wear a green transparent flasher’s rainproof mackintosh while Lady Russell looked like she had suffered multiple stab wounds as the dye from her red little Red Riding Hood jacket spread like a contagious affliction to her hands & legs. And the R.A. illustrated the maxim “once a boy scout always a boy scout” training by bringing along a change of garments…which could not have been said of the G.M who seemed to be experiencing some sort of chromosome crisis – he looked the epitome of a Joli Garcon dressed as a doyen of the effeminate class in a canary yellow V necked sweater & a multi colored silk scarf swathed around his neck like he was trying to do his very best imitation of Isadora Duncan – minus the sports car of course.
Remarkably, considering the weather, that elusive rare species the first timer, was in evidence although they had probably wished that they had stayed in the comfort of their own home to watch the raindrops trickle down their windowpane rather than have them falling on their head (insert your favourite Butch Cassidy & The Sundance Kid scene here) –
1)Neeta – a returning Mauritian who was once an inhabitant of Wood Green in North London so she would have had plenty experience of rainy conditions & would not have been too daunted by the weather. As a complete valueless trinket of historical ennui, Wood Green is very close to where the Scribe lived during his first aborted attempt at matrimonial endeavour. Neeta’s husband was not in attendance but it is a widely belief that they met as students at the Hendon Polytechnic (eyes across a crowded library).
2)The Jerlows – who did not introduce themselves to the circle (maybe they are shrinking violets or they may have rushed back home after completing their walk).
There were no second timers this week so the reprehensibly gay-looking GM had to endure a beer-induced down down although he ought to have been given a glass of pink champagne & some fairy cake as forfeit.
The iconic troglodyte that comes in the huggable form of the Religious & Sex Advisor dedicated his narrative to all the Mothers on their special day & the subject of today’s parable was a former lady Hasher who had three children (presumably from the same sire) who had all migrated overseas in the pursuit of their career aspirations & who had all fulfilled their ambitions by becoming extremely wealthy. Although they did not come home to Mauritius very often, they never forgot their mum & every year they would make a point of sending her expensive gifts for Mother’s Day. And every year, the siblings (who were jealously competitive of their mother’s attention) got together on an interactive Skype call to boast about the gifts that they sent to their mother. On this particular Skypechat, the eldest who owned a chain of health & wellness clinics in Paris, moved quickly to strike the first blow & in a slightly self satisfied broken English smug voice said “I built Maman an energy efficient 5 bedroom house in Tamarin, each having its own en suite bathroom. The house looks on to the West Coast, has a private heat-controlled swimming pool, marble floors and designer furniture.
The less eldest, who was a successful songwriter for the stars counting Cheryl Cole, Adele, Justin Beiber & Rihanna amongst her A list client, was not in the least unhinged by this revelation and as a riposte said “I gave her a chauffeur driven stretch limousine that was pimped out with HD digital TV, Dr Dre Heavy Ass Loudbass Speakers, internet connection, mini bar & make up cabinet.
The least eldest of the triangle, holding a PHd in biomedical science, had made his fortune from the discovery of a polymer based treatment for a whole host of hostile parasitic viruses. He smiled & bragged “I have done better than the both of you. You know how Mum enjoys the Bible & you know that she no longer reads the good book on account of her failing eyesight; well, I gave her a Gorgeous rare brown African Grey parrot, the only one in the world which can recite the whole Bible in braille & he can quote passages virtually on demand. It took 20 monks in Tibet a generation to teach that parrot; I even had to pledge an annual donation of 80,000 dollars for 10 years to get this parrot but I think that it was worth every dime so that Mum can enjoy spiritual relief at any time of the day & night”.
Soon after Mother’s Day, Henriette (incorrectly unidentified as a former Hasher by the R.A) sent out her thank you letters to her sons & wrote to the eldest “My dear Olivio, the house you built is far too big; I only live in one room but I still have to clean the whole house & frankly that is akin to one of the twelve labours of Hercules at my age”
To the less eldest, she noted ” My dear Olivius, the limousine is of no use to me. These days, I tend to stay at home (cleaning the bloody thing) & rarely use the car; plus the fact the Chauffeur is always drunk when he us behind the wheel principally because of his repugnant habit of stealing the 40 year old Glenfiddich from the mini-bar”.
And finally, she penned the following missive to the least eldest sibling “My Dear Olivier, you were the only one of my sons to know the taste that your Mum has – the chicken was absolutely delicious. You must send more soon”.
The R.A. then ventured to brandish humiliation to the following Infidels for crimes against humanity –
1) Gaetan, Hari & Arnand – triumvirate sinners on account of wearing clothes that made them appear to be cross dressers (see above)
2)Ian – for being late although he too could have been singled out for cross dressing. He was a combination of pirate (bandana), biker (denim jacket), Fijian Governor (toweled skirt) & urchin (shoeless)
3)Lady Russell – for being the first North American Red Indian on the Hash due to the red dye contamination (see above). Look out for Pocahontas invitating you to her tepee warming party – it will surely be a Siouxperb affair.
The bovine campanological device was on mute this week & all was quiet on the western front with only the sound of shivering hashers breaking the tranquil silence.

THE LAST WORD
The Scribe is thinking on his feet these days to complete this feature & this task alone is using up his obsolescent brain cell to the point of irreversible meltdown. His extraordinary ESP talents allowed him to gaze intently into past universes and lost horizons with the aid of a fully operational HG Wells patented time machine and after several brisk revolutions of the crankshaft handle, the contraption has navigated shadowy vortexes & unchartered afterworlds to bring us our next unwilling victim onto the virtual hot seat. As an unexpected (and extra special) Mother’s Day treat we proudly bring you the iconoclastic Mother of Humanity & Eternal Saviour, born Agnes Gonxha Bojaxhiu on the 26 August 1910 in Skopje (capital of Macedonia), and whom the Vatican stated as a “luminous messenger of God’s love” – but the world knows her simply as Mother Teresa. So Ladies & gentlemen, Be prepared to be inspired.
Good afternoon, your blessedness, it is indeed overwhelming to be in the virtual company of such a legend & before I commence I would merely like to add to the legacy of tributes by commending you on your lifetime’s dedication as compassionate humanitarian to those less fortunate than ourselves. You are the perfect disembodiment of a role model – the Rolls Royce of Role Models in fact. So, without further illiteral alliterations, let’s begin –
1)What inspired you to become a missionary?
Thanks for those kind words, Scribe. Well, as a child I was fascinated by stories of missionaries & their service in Bengal and by the time I was 12 years old I knew that I wanted to commit myself to religious life. I took my final resolution in 1928 while praying at the Black Madonna of Letrice. I began my religious life soon after as a Sister of Loreto at Loreto Abbey in Ireland.
2)How long did you stay in Ireland & what did you do afterwards?
My main objective of going to Ireland was to learn English because the Sisters used the language in their schools in India. I only stayed there the best part of a year & in 1929, I was sent to Darjeeling to the novitiate of the Sisters of Loreto where I learned Bengali & taught at St. Teresa’s school not far from the convent.
3)When did you adopt the name Teresa?
In 1931, I took my first religious vows and in the process I changed my name to Teresa as homage to the Patron Saint of Missionaries, Therese De Lisieux. I was then sent to St. Mary’s, Eastern Calcutta where I taught English for around 15 years.
4)St. Mary’s was essentially a school for daughters of the wealthy but it was during this period you had your epiphanic event that led you to abandon the convent to help the poor.
Yes, I still remember it as if it was yesterday. 10th September 1946 on my way by train from Calcutta to a retreat in Darjeeling; it was then that I received my inspiration or my “call within a call’ as I like to call it. To this day, I still cannot explain the way that Jesus’ thirst for love took hold of my heart and how that desire to satiate His thirst became the driving force of my life. I knew then that I had to leave the convent and follow Christ into the slums to serve him among the poorest of the poor – to do otherwise would have been to break the faith.
5)This transition took some time & was not necessarily a straightforward process.
No, not at all. I had to be released formally from living within the convent. I then had to confront the Church’s resistance to forming new religious communities, but I did eventually receive permission from the Archbishop of Calcutta to serve the poor openly on the streets. I then decided that I would wear the ordinary dress of an Indian woman: a plain white blue bordered sari and sandals. As preparation, I took a nursing course in Patna and in 1948 I received permission from Pope Pius XII to leave the Sisterhood and live as an independent nun. So I went back to the slums of Calcutta to rent a small room so that I could live amongst the poor.
6)The first few years were particularly hard for you but were you tempted to abandon your vocation?
Well, I started teaching the children by writing in the dirt & I strove to educate the destitute in basic hygiene. I myself had no income & I resorted to beg for food & supplies. On the rare occasion that I was tempted to return to conventional religious service, I reminded myself that the poverty of the cross was less burdensome than the poverty of the poor & that out of God’s love for me, I was chosen to serve his Holiness’ higher calling.
7)Soon some of your former students joined as volunteers whilst others offered food, clothing, the use of buildings, medical supplies and money. Eventually in October 1950, you formed the Missionaries of Charity.
Yes, I received Vatican permission to start a diocesan congregation that would become the Charity & the mission’s objective were clear, namely to care for the hungry, the naked, the homeless, the crippled, the blind, the lepers, all those people who felt unwanted, unloved, uncared for throughout society, people that had become a burden to society & were shunned by everyone.
8)You were awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 1979 & a host of other commemorative awards throughout your lifetime. What do you think we can do to promote World Peace?
As I have answered many times, Go home and love your family. I found the poverty of the West so much more difficult to remove. When I pick up a starving child from the street, I give him a plate of rice and a price of bread and I have removed that hunger. But a person that is excommunicated, that feels unwanted, unloved, terrified or marginalised from society – that kind of poverty cuts deeper & is much more difficult to nourish.
9)You were beatified by Pope John Paul II on October 2003 on the account of a recorded miracle that you performed on a Mrs Monica Besra whereby her abdominal tumor was cured although critics including her husband believed that conventional medicine had eradicated the tumor. What would you say about this?
All I can say is that the patient was given a locket with my photograph & she herself stated that a beam of light emanated from that photograph. Soon after, the tumor was no longer evident in the affected area. I believe that this anecdote also serves to illustrate that Faith can be an omnipresent & omnipotent force.
10)What legacy do you think that you have left behind?
I would normally feel uncomfortable handling a question like this but, trying to answer on an objective level, I would like to believe that I left behind a testament of unshakable faith, invincible hope and extraordinary magnanimity. Jesus’ plea to “Come be My light” made me a Missionary of Charity, a Mother to the poor,a symbol of compassion to the world, and a living witness to the insatiable love of God.

Well, Your Blessedness that is all we have time for & on behalf of our loyal Trash readers, I would like to express my eternal gratitude for coming out of the ether to grace us with your imaginative piety & inspirational wisdom.

THE SCRIBE