I learned at the Wednesday happy hour what raw white tastes like--that shit could be used to remove paint. Whew. You can cut it and cut it with soda and it is still basically moonshine right out of the still. It stings your nose if you get a whiff of it straight.
The local term for brown and white is siddiqi. People say things like "did you try the white sid?" I'm sure the American expats back in the '40's had something to do with the ironic fact that siddiqi means friend in Arabic.
Anyway, I seem to have hooked into a social circuit of sorts and have been invited back to that happy hour next month (she has them the last Wednesday of every month).
Some of my lovely new Brit friends invited me along to the South African party on New Year's Eve. I stopped at their house (the Brits' house) for a few glasses of champagne first. Yes, champagne! Val and Bob are quite the connoisseurs and make some excellent wine products. The champagne was dry and crisp and very bubbly--and served in lovely little champagne flutes.
The South African party was the best one yet--a DJ, lots of fun dance and club music, liquor literally flowing nonstop, plenty of decent food to nibble on. The South Africans hang out with the usual Commonwealth contingent but they also include Americans and the odd European or two. My head and stomach couldn't face any more sid experiments so I stuck with the red whine, which turned out to be quite good. But take that with a grain of salt--I stumbled home sometime around 2am absolutely hammered--after an hour or so it all probably would have tasted "good". I even danced--yes, I know, that simply does not compute for those of you that know me well, but hey, it seemed the thing to do at the time. At midnight, I kissed and was kissed by a bunch of people, half of whom I didn't even know. The Commonwealth contingent is a friendly bunch for sure.
The next day I managed to drag myself up and out of bed and make it to the hash at 2pm.
Wherever there is a group of expats or even former expats, there is usually a hash. I've heard of hashes but never attemped one before. The Dhahran Hash House Harriers (DH3) were going to the desert south of camp on Friday, New Year's Day. When I found out I could take the dogs, I made sure I got the info about where and when to meet.
We had a lovely time!
The run was a "live" run--we chased the hare over a trail he made up as he went. Up and over dunes, dodging bushes and soft sand pits. Harry was in utter heaven.
About half of the hash is spread out in front of us. Some people run, some walk and run (that would include me), and some just stroll along, taking as many shortcuts as possible. Those are electrical pylons in the distance; there is a large electrical power plant run off natural gas out there.
It was very windy and cold for the season, in the low 60s F. Mimi's ears are blowing back! You can see Harry turned back waiting for us. The hare is way off at the top of the dune in the distance.Hashing is as much a social event as it is an actual run. Having food and drink at the end is typical. The orange cooler in the pic below is filled with homemade beer (I found out they make beer by fermenting things like O'Doul's which solves the hops problem). You can see that Harry is ready to help out with the cheese and smoked salmon at a moment's notice!
The random clothing is also part of the hash. The odder you dress, the better. Most clubs have an annual "Red Dress Hash"--including this one! Everyone, even the guys, runs the hash in a red dress. Some do it in heels as well! It's a spring event--I can't wait!Once the sun went down, we built a fire and hung out drinking beer and watching the full moon rise over the dunes until about 7pm when we all got too cold and decided to head back home.
I can't play the "newbie" card for too many more months but I am still regularly asked how I'm settling in. I always tell the truth: I am Alice and I've gone down the rabbit hole! Potions to make me tall, the Red Queen and her chess game, mimsy borogroves and walruses by the sea--it's all here in some form or another. I thoroughly hate my motel 6 apartment but my job is amazing--and I'm meeting all sorts of interesting, amusing people and doing things that I would not have done back home.
3 comments:
OK, Jeff and I are curious to find out how they're turning water into wine or more like a near beer into real beer since you mentioned O'Douls
I am not sure how they do it. I think they just re-ferment it with more yeast, maybe adding some sugar too. There are several O'Doul-like products sold in the commissary. The end result is pretty weak and thin. No bocks here unless people are smuggling supplies in.
Glad to hear you are having such a great time with a crowd of very social neighbors!
Herding lesson today, 8 degrees, 40 mph winds, snow on the ground, I wore two of everything, Crash wanted the windows rolled down on the 2 hour drive. Watched a Pyrenees gather all the sheep from the back of the farm and move them all to the front field - she wanted to be closer to the visitors! Good lesson - made progress.
-D
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