On the 4 hour matatu (a.k.a. taxi, which is the local public transport) ride to Mbale through a few other towns and lots of dust over bumpy roads, I saw some hilarious signs that I just have to share:
"Nice Peaceful Butchery"
"Uganda Martyrs College"
"God's Will Shop"
(the musings are endless!)
Then after another 2 hour matatu ride up into the mountains to Chiholo, I arrived at the "Mizungu Guest House." It was actually just the home of another Peace Corps Volunteer, but because it's unusually large for a PCV house (4 bedrooms!) and it was filled with foreigners (or mizungus), everyone jokes that it's the Mizungu Guest House.
After being introduced to a dozen people (all PCV's) I was pleasantly surprised to learn we would be having not only turkey for dinner, but also mashed sweet potatoes, green bean casserole, stuffing, corn bread, fruit salad and pumpkin pie! Everyone was busily helping with the preperations, luckily I had just missed the turkey slaughter, but was in time to catch a few photos of the cleaning and cutting. It had to be chopped into smaller pieces becuase it wouldn't fit into the pot to be fried otherwise. I can't say that I was much help with the cooking, but I will say this was one of the most fabulous Thanksgiving dinners I've ever had. Rene worked some magic injecting the turkey with spices and then frying it--I've never had tastier turkey! Sharing such a delicious meal with a crowd of new friends (by candlelight, no less!), was
a wonderful treat. We all stuffed ourselves and then sat around chatting under the stars (which are incredible in the mountains with NO light pollution). 
The next day a few of us decided to work off all those extra holiday pounds by climbing a mountain. I did not know what I was getting myself into! Lisandro pointed to a peak not too far in the distance and said "that's Mt. Nusu, let's go there" so we did. We were told by s
ome locals after several inquiries that if we follwed the road it would go around to the back of hte mountain and then up. We decided to take a more direct route, so we veered off the road, down a hill, across a stream, and then up. And we kept going up, very steeply up, for the next 2.5 hours or so. I'm so out of shape, and even though I started out determined to make it to the top, I began to wonder if our eager party could make it. We ended up connecting ot another path, which led through people's little plots of crops and passed thier homes. We stopped to say hello and ask if the path led to the top--I'm sure that most of them were completely perplexed why this group of mizungus was asking about a path to the top of the mountain. I don't think hiking is common past-time among the locals. When we were running low on water they provided some for us--which we were certain wasn't treated but we drank anyway, as far as I know no one got sick, pretty amazing. Close to the top a man decided he would guide us, which was very generous, especially considering what we encountered towards the top. After Fred (our guide) joined us, I noticed that slowly other younger boys were also following us, pangas (machetes) in hand. I figured they all had nothing better to do on a sunday afternoon so why not amuse themselves at how winded these mizungus were on our mountain. Seriously these boys were running around and jumping from rocks (all the while with panga in hand) like it was nothing, and all of us could barely breathe! At this point we couldn't even climb for more than 5 minutes without stopping for a breather. Then all the panga weilding members of the party ran to the front and I quickly learned why they come along.
The path was no more, instead we were in a jungle of overgrown bushes and grasses, and our guides were cutting a path with their pangas. Pushing our way through the undergrowth we finally reached our pointy peak and the view was amazing. I passed my camera to one of our guides and he hastily snapped a few shots, one of which managed to get all of us in it. After basking in the glory of our feat, we decided we had better head back down, to my dread! It didn't take long for my thighs to start shaking with each step, man was it painful! Our glorious reward at the bottom was a dip in the stream. The water was freezing and possibly pathogenic, but it felt so damn good! Luckily we made it home before the rain began, becuase it would have been nothing more than sliding down the mud and rocks on my butt if we were on that mountain in the rain. 5 days later my legs finally aren't screaming in pain with every movement, and I'm ready to take on another mountain!
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