Well be back. Well be back. We've had a busy last week picking up our newest MAPLE field team members from the airport, whisking through Kampala and heading back to Mbale. We arrived safely Thusday afternoon, only to turn around and head up to Sipi Falls for the weekend to celebrate the Fourth of July and Luke's Birthday.
Sipi Falls, some of you more dedicated readers may remember, is the site of our previous misadventures with the rastas. So naturally, we couldn't resist the temptation to go back. This time around, though, what with it being a big celebration, we opted to grill some meat. Beef and swine, typically the first choice for such occasions, were out due to various dietary restrictions and a general fear of flies-covered meat. Delicious chicken, while easy and satisfying, is just not special enough. That really only leaves one option:
Tin Can Tony I. The first in (hopefully) a long line of Tonys that will be eaten by the MAPLE Uganda field team. I wish I could say that we helped out with the slaughter and preparation, but to be honest, there was not a lot that our skill-set had to contribute. We rightly deferred to the experts, sat back and drank some beer.
The slaughtering process was quite an experience. We'll call it a play in four acts.
Act I - Opening the Neck, aka squirt-squirt-hang-and-drain
[Too real for TV.]
Act II - "Take his Face Off"
Act III - Operation Make Insides Outside
[Too real for TV times 2]
Act IV - Hack Meat into Tasty Little Bits.
At this point, we have to give a big shout-out to Eddie and JB, who really spearheaded the cooking process. There wasn't a single burned piece of meat on the whole goat. The whole weekend will no doubt go down in history as one of the more epic and unusual Fourth of July celebrations for all involved. I'm sure Luke would agree that he won't be having another birthday quite like this one again.
Tin Can Tony I, I can only hope that you lived a long and rewarding life. You seemed happy and satisfied when I met you, munching on matooke peels and just digging life in the village. Hopefully, you can rest in peace knowing that your memory will live on forever in the exaggerated stories of a herd of silly mzungus.
Oh. And in the two sweet matching vests we will have made from your fur.