Gorilla, gorilla

This was one of those events that is hard to capture in writing. Our visit with the mountain gorillas in Uganda may well have been the highlight of our entire trip. It was tough getting to the park, hard to get passes, only a brief encounter and costly enough to assume that the price included a gorilla "for keeps". It didn't, but it was worth it.

Bwindi Impenetrable National Park is a UNESCO World Heritage Site located along the very southern edge of Uganda, bordering a park shared with the Congo (danger!). It's home to 340 mountain gorillas - half of the world's gorilla population. Within this group of 340, there are three "families" of habituated (human-friendly) gorillas, which go by the names of "Mubare", "Katendegyere" and "Rushegura". A total of 24 people - eight people per gorilla family - visit the gorillas for one hour each day. By luck of the draw, our passes were for the Rushegura family.

It was a lucky draw because the Rushegura family had recently wandered close to the park entrance. Gorilla trekking, as the name suggests, can actually involve a fair amount of hiking. This can be hot, humid hiking under the canopy of the forest that can lead through dense foliage, across streams and up mountains. For some, this is an attraction in itself. These people likely have cerebral malaria. We on the other hand were happier to save the hiking for another day and head right for the primates.

At the morning briefing, we reviewed the gorilla rules and received a sizable number of condolences from other trekkers (trekkies?) regarding the abbreviated hike we would soon experience. There was even some jostling between groups, as some people tried to get into the mid-range hiking group or even (cerebral malaria) the long hike group. We learned that sneezing on the gorillas was forbidden and presumably also rude and anti-social. We were told that if "nature called", our ranger would dig a hole for us and cover it once we had finished. I later questioned our ranger on this and he said I should do the digging and covering myself. It was a hypothetical scenario, but I was still disappointed by his disregard for the rules. I also felt that the exorbitant trekking fees would be more palatable if he re-classified himself as a ranger/butler.

Eight of us set out into the forest with our ranger and two armed guards who set the pace about 100 meters in front of us. They were armed with AK-47s. A quick chat with ranger Chris revealed that the guards weren't packing heat for a gorilla shoot-out (though this would have obviously been awesome, assuming the gorillas were similarly armed and given fair notice - although maybe a sneak-attack would be fair, considering the home-court advantage they would have in the forest and their nimbleness in the tress), but rather as a poacher/rebel deterrent. There's actually a market somewhere for gorilla meat and some pretty nasty stuff going on in the Congo (danger!) where rebels are killing gorillas. I'll avoid a guerrilla/gorilla pun here, but please know that it will be like flexing a muscle for the duration of this writing. We had also been issued walking sticks for the hike and I spent most of the walk quizzing Chris on gorilla defence techniques using the "staff" the park had provided. He re-iterated that we would not be fighting the gorillas and after a time shorter than I thought satisfying, refused to entertain any further questions involving hypothetical situations that would see us forced to fight the gorillas.

No more than 20 minutes into the park and part-way up a mountain, we were told to leave our backpacks, water and walking sticks/staffs. There was a fair bit of conversation and radio activity between the ranger and guards. The gorillas' coordinates are pinpointed daily by GPS and radioed back to park HQ so the next day's group has a better sense of where to start their trek. Since the gorillas aren't tied down and can really move when they want to, this system has varying success.

It's about 9:30 AM and the temperature is not yet oppressive, though the humidity feels like it's rising. The forest is a bright, leafy green. The ground is thick with plants and long grasses that make comfy improvised beds for the gorillas each night. As we creep quietly ahead and off a semi-worn path, Chris makes long slashes with his machete that expose more and more of the forest ahead. The eight of us are being as quiet as possible and the distinct sound of rustling leaves is heard easily over the cuts of the machete. Chris quickens the pace and looks back at us with a big smile before forging ahead. We're following more tightly now, all doing this weird silent mime celebration. And then there's a tree with skinny, shaking branches in front of us. Big lime green leaves swaying four metres from where we're standing. I could grab the swaying branch if I stood under it. Then, in the most casual of gestures and after sufficient dramatic pause, a large gorilla pokes his head out from the cover of the branches and rolls his eyes across our group. We're all gasps.

Then we go into paparazzi mode - minus the flashbulbs and holding back the "Show me love, Gorilla". We took a few steps closer with Chris' permission and before long it was evident that we had discovered the whole family. A baby gorilla only a few months old poked his head out from behind his mother in the tree in front of us. Less than two meters beside me, another rustle gave away a mid-sized male lazing in the grass. Looking behind him, there were another couple munching some green shoots. There were two juveniles in the trees play fighting and beating their chests whenever one knocked the other off. But we initially paid very little attention to them. Seated a little further away on the grass, looking entirely disinterested, was the massive silverback.

He was much larger than the other gorillas with a long, giant head. He sat slowly eating in the grass and when he turned we could see his lower back was bright white. One look and it was obvious that he was running the show. He sat there like a hairy Jabba the Hut while the smaller gorillas buzzed around him. Apparently once a silverback has established dominance in a group, he can pretty much lie back and relax for the rest of his life. This one even demonstrated a truly impressive capacity for flatulence which furthered the impression that he was leading the good life.

The most interesting thing we found during our hour with the family was just how much like humans they seem. It sounds strange to call a gorilla huge when we've seen literally hundreds of elephants, giraffes and buffalo, but when evaluating the size and demeanour of a gorilla it seems far more natural to compare them to people. Their facial expressions are especially recognisable. Our camera has a mode that puts a box around human faces in the display and focuses the picture on them. At one point I had the camera on Laura with a gorilla in the background and the box first appeared around Laura's face and then a smaller one popped up around the gorilla behind her (note that I think this would work with all humans, not just Laura).

Of the 14 members of the Rushegara group, we think we saw ten. We got back to camp around 10:30 AM. Just before 5:00 PM the long hike group arrived. They had hiked so far out that they were forced to find a nearby road and radio back to headquarters for a pick-up. By the time they found the gorillas it had started to get dark. They think they saw eight gorillas, but had trouble photographing them in the low light. As the darkness moved in, they had to cut their viewing short and make their way to the road after only a half hour with the family.