Hey Everyone! I hope you’re all doing well. It’s been awhile since I’ve posted, and a lot has happened since, which I hope to document later. But for now, let me tell you about today’s outing – which as you may have guessed from the title, involved a visit to the mountain gorillas of ‘The Volcanoes National Park of Rwanda.’
Only 300 mountain gorillas remain in the world, and they live exclusively in the Virunga Mountains, a high altitude, volcanic rain forest covering 420 sq-km. Unfortunately for the gorillas, their home straddles the border between 3 countries - Rwanda, Uganda and the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC), and is therefore prone to variations in political stability. No one knows how large the population of mountain gorillas may once have been. The first written discovery of the species occurred in 1902, and the first published population survey in 1960, estimated the number to be around 450. Given the limited nature of the mountain gorillas habitat, it is thought that no more than 1000 may have ever existed at any one time.
Today, more than half of the world’s mountain gorillas live in Rwanda’s Volcanoes National Park. In 1978, the first gorilla tourism project was initiated in the park, and despite many problems in the region during the intervening 25+ year (including the murder of Dian Fossey, invading rebel militias, a civil war beginning in 1991 culminating in the genocide of 1994, and various poaching incidents) incredibly, the gorilla population has remained relatively stable.
Revenue from gorilla trekking in Volcanoes Park is a huge chunk of Rwanda’s annual revenue. It’s somewhere between the #2 and #3 largest contributor to the GNP. Over $12,000 per day can be collected in park permit revenue alone.
Gorillas live in distinct communities know as clans. One alpha male dominates a clan of roughly 15-20 individuals and has exclusive mating rites with the 3-4 females under his control. Other males must leave the troop and find a female (usually pulled a neighboring clan) to start a clan of his own. There are many clans living in the Virunga Mountain chain, but only 5 are exposed to regular tourist visits, and have been thoroughly habituated to tolerate human intrusion. Gorillas have a regular daily schedule of activity which includes feeding, lounging, social time, etc. Tourists visits are limited to 1 hour of contact per day.
The park authorities employ professional Rwandese gorilla trackers, who keep track of each group’s daily location. Since gorillas are fairly sedentary, and travel only short distances (less than a Km per day), keeping track of their location is fairly easy. So when you plunk down your $375 at the park office, it’s a guarantee that you will see gorillas. In fact, you’ll be amazed at how close a proximity you’re allowed to get to these guys! The park guides who accompany each small group will tell you that the desired limit from human to gorilla is 7 meters. This is done mostly for safety, avoiding undue stress on the gorillas, and limiting the chance for disease spread from human to gorilla. But I can tell you from first hand experience that you get much closer than that. Most of the today’s viewing was at a distance of 10 feet! Of course the gorillas have their own set of limitations, and curious ones have been known to get very close. But, I’m jumping ahead of the story…
This morning, 4 friends from the local hospital and I climbed into a very well-used 4x4 taxi and set off for the park entrance. Showing up at the park headquarters at 6:30 am is a requirement for all the gorilla tracking customers, and it is during the morning gathering, that the tourist groups are assigned to specific gorilla clans. One has limited input in the park supervisor’s decision to assign tourists groups to gorilla clans, but despite this, I had my hopes set on visiting the ‘Susa’ group, which touts itself as the most remote and arduous trek required to reach the gorillas. Depending on the ‘Susa’ clan’s location, the hike can take as long as 4 hours, up a steep volcano pitch thru dense vegetation. Other gorilla clans live in closer habitats to the parking areas, and are more easily reached along gently sloping terrain. The park info recommends the ‘Susa’ group only for ‘extremely fit’ individuals. Of course, I wanted to take on the challenge.
At 6:30, the park headquarters was Mizungu-city, with about 30 westerners, each having paid $375 cash, eagerly awaiting the gorilla tracking experience. Fortunately for my Rwandan friends, the park gives a huge discount to residents, and they only had to pay the equivalent of $20 each.
From my best guess, each morning when the tourist groups arrive at the headquarters, the park supervisor sizes up the visitors, decides who’s cut out for the more difficult treks, and makes his assignment for each group to one of the 5 clans. It’s a bit like being picked for kickball back in grade school – it’s a bit if a pride swallow if you get drafted in the late rounds.
I started sizing up the Anglos asking myself what chances our team would have in getting a ‘Susa’ assignment. The Euro/North American contingent looked very well prepared in their Gore-Tex jackets, camelback packs, hiking boots, hats, rain pants and shiny new 4X4 vehicles, complete with driver. In comparison, my group of Rwandan friends looked like a Jamaican Bobsled Team who lost their corporate sponsor. Only 2 of the 4 brought rain jackets, Chantelle showed up wearing flats on her feet, but with perfectly applied makeup and a very cute umbrella, and Laurent wore jeans with a cotton short-sleeved shirt. The current conditions – about 50°F, and raining. The situation looked hopeless. We were surely going to be assigned to the gorilla clan set aside for obese westerners on the verge of congestive heart failure.
My prediction proved true. One by one the other tourist groups got their assignment, and I was beginning to think we may have been overlooked us entirely. Finally, the park supervisor directed us to the little stand-up sign marking our gorilla clan. The name on the sign was in Kinyarwandan, so I couldn’t understand the meaning of the name. My guess was ‘Senior Citizen’. My taxi driver, knowing my desires to take on the ‘Susa’ challenge, arranged it with the supervisor that I could separate from my Rwandan friends and join the ‘Susu’ team as a free agent. I thought about it for moment, took a look at Chantelle’s spotless outfit and perfectly coiffed hair and Laurent already trying to shake off the morning cold, and made my decision. “No thanks,” I said. “I’ll stay with my friends.”
I tried to conceal my disappointment as I trudged past the ‘Susa’ tourists, looking like they were ready for the cover shot on next month’s ‘Outside’. The consolation to the morning was that Laurent was able to purchase a tracking permit at the Rwandese resident price (which he had been unable to do back in Kigali, due to his Congolese citizenship), and by no means could afford the non-resident fee. We thought he would be turned away at park headquarters and would have to wait for us to return, but decided to try just in case. Fortunately, our taxi driver know all the park rangers by name, took an interest in our underdog status, and chatted up the man issuing the precious permits. He agreed to let Laurent purchase the discounted ticket.
As we gathered with the guides to hear a pre-trip briefing, our group was joined by Hideaki, the lone Japanese tourist who arrived in at park headquarters in a suped-up Mitsubishi sports car. Turns out, he’s in Rwanda for the upcoming ‘road rally’ (pronounced ‘load lally’ by the Rwandese) and is in the hunt for the ‘Africa Cup Road Rally Championship’. My team climbed back into our rusting taxi, and the 2 guides hopped a ride in Hideaki’s sports car. We drove about 30 minutes until the road became impassible, and then we started walking.
I reluctantly accepted the fact that there would be no ‘Susa’ group for me this year. But I reminded myself of the bright side - Laurent would be able to attend, and that I would get to see local Rwandese experiencing for the first time, what is undoubtedly the biggest attraction their country has to offer in tourism. This would be good enough I told myself.
At the trailhead, the guides gathered our rag-tag band for one last briefing before entering the park. Then he told us something that changed my entire tune. One of the females in the gorilla clan we were approached, had only 3 days ago, given birth! The reminded us that the mother is very protective of newborns, and will not release her continuous hold on her baby for several weeks. We may not be lucky enough to see the new baby. But this hope brightened my thoughts tremendously. Ain’t no baby in the Susa group!
Given the rainy conditions, the walk turned out being perfect. And it was just long enough with sufficient bush-whacking through the forest to give you the impression of remoteness. When we first came upon the gorilla clan, I could just make out one climbing in the tree overhead. Then, I turned the corner to see the big chief himself, mister silverback sitting in a patch of grass lounging away. He size was very impressive – must have been around 300 pounds. Gorillas are strictly vegetarians, and the guides told us that they can consume as much as 60 kg a day of raw food. Gorillas don’t drink water, for they get an ample supply from the plants they consume.
Of course, the highlight of the experience, to be sure, was seeing the mother gorilla caring for her 3 day old infant. I’m not going to say much more here, because I’ll let the pictures do the talking. Suffice to say, we had a terrific time and all went home thoroughly satisfied. Life’s little lessons never cease. Cheers, all!
PS. Check out the short gorilla movie!
Only 300 mountain gorillas remain in the world, and they live exclusively in the Virunga Mountains, a high altitude, volcanic rain forest covering 420 sq-km. Unfortunately for the gorillas, their home straddles the border between 3 countries - Rwanda, Uganda and the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC), and is therefore prone to variations in political stability. No one knows how large the population of mountain gorillas may once have been. The first written discovery of the species occurred in 1902, and the first published population survey in 1960, estimated the number to be around 450. Given the limited nature of the mountain gorillas habitat, it is thought that no more than 1000 may have ever existed at any one time.
Today, more than half of the world’s mountain gorillas live in Rwanda’s Volcanoes National Park. In 1978, the first gorilla tourism project was initiated in the park, and despite many problems in the region during the intervening 25+ year (including the murder of Dian Fossey, invading rebel militias, a civil war beginning in 1991 culminating in the genocide of 1994, and various poaching incidents) incredibly, the gorilla population has remained relatively stable.
Revenue from gorilla trekking in Volcanoes Park is a huge chunk of Rwanda’s annual revenue. It’s somewhere between the #2 and #3 largest contributor to the GNP. Over $12,000 per day can be collected in park permit revenue alone.
Gorillas live in distinct communities know as clans. One alpha male dominates a clan of roughly 15-20 individuals and has exclusive mating rites with the 3-4 females under his control. Other males must leave the troop and find a female (usually pulled a neighboring clan) to start a clan of his own. There are many clans living in the Virunga Mountain chain, but only 5 are exposed to regular tourist visits, and have been thoroughly habituated to tolerate human intrusion. Gorillas have a regular daily schedule of activity which includes feeding, lounging, social time, etc. Tourists visits are limited to 1 hour of contact per day.
The park authorities employ professional Rwandese gorilla trackers, who keep track of each group’s daily location. Since gorillas are fairly sedentary, and travel only short distances (less than a Km per day), keeping track of their location is fairly easy. So when you plunk down your $375 at the park office, it’s a guarantee that you will see gorillas. In fact, you’ll be amazed at how close a proximity you’re allowed to get to these guys! The park guides who accompany each small group will tell you that the desired limit from human to gorilla is 7 meters. This is done mostly for safety, avoiding undue stress on the gorillas, and limiting the chance for disease spread from human to gorilla. But I can tell you from first hand experience that you get much closer than that. Most of the today’s viewing was at a distance of 10 feet! Of course the gorillas have their own set of limitations, and curious ones have been known to get very close. But, I’m jumping ahead of the story…
This morning, 4 friends from the local hospital and I climbed into a very well-used 4x4 taxi and set off for the park entrance. Showing up at the park headquarters at 6:30 am is a requirement for all the gorilla tracking customers, and it is during the morning gathering, that the tourist groups are assigned to specific gorilla clans. One has limited input in the park supervisor’s decision to assign tourists groups to gorilla clans, but despite this, I had my hopes set on visiting the ‘Susa’ group, which touts itself as the most remote and arduous trek required to reach the gorillas. Depending on the ‘Susa’ clan’s location, the hike can take as long as 4 hours, up a steep volcano pitch thru dense vegetation. Other gorilla clans live in closer habitats to the parking areas, and are more easily reached along gently sloping terrain. The park info recommends the ‘Susa’ group only for ‘extremely fit’ individuals. Of course, I wanted to take on the challenge.
At 6:30, the park headquarters was Mizungu-city, with about 30 westerners, each having paid $375 cash, eagerly awaiting the gorilla tracking experience. Fortunately for my Rwandan friends, the park gives a huge discount to residents, and they only had to pay the equivalent of $20 each.
From my best guess, each morning when the tourist groups arrive at the headquarters, the park supervisor sizes up the visitors, decides who’s cut out for the more difficult treks, and makes his assignment for each group to one of the 5 clans. It’s a bit like being picked for kickball back in grade school – it’s a bit if a pride swallow if you get drafted in the late rounds.
I started sizing up the Anglos asking myself what chances our team would have in getting a ‘Susa’ assignment. The Euro/North American contingent looked very well prepared in their Gore-Tex jackets, camelback packs, hiking boots, hats, rain pants and shiny new 4X4 vehicles, complete with driver. In comparison, my group of Rwandan friends looked like a Jamaican Bobsled Team who lost their corporate sponsor. Only 2 of the 4 brought rain jackets, Chantelle showed up wearing flats on her feet, but with perfectly applied makeup and a very cute umbrella, and Laurent wore jeans with a cotton short-sleeved shirt. The current conditions – about 50°F, and raining. The situation looked hopeless. We were surely going to be assigned to the gorilla clan set aside for obese westerners on the verge of congestive heart failure.
My prediction proved true. One by one the other tourist groups got their assignment, and I was beginning to think we may have been overlooked us entirely. Finally, the park supervisor directed us to the little stand-up sign marking our gorilla clan. The name on the sign was in Kinyarwandan, so I couldn’t understand the meaning of the name. My guess was ‘Senior Citizen’. My taxi driver, knowing my desires to take on the ‘Susa’ challenge, arranged it with the supervisor that I could separate from my Rwandan friends and join the ‘Susu’ team as a free agent. I thought about it for moment, took a look at Chantelle’s spotless outfit and perfectly coiffed hair and Laurent already trying to shake off the morning cold, and made my decision. “No thanks,” I said. “I’ll stay with my friends.”
I tried to conceal my disappointment as I trudged past the ‘Susa’ tourists, looking like they were ready for the cover shot on next month’s ‘Outside’. The consolation to the morning was that Laurent was able to purchase a tracking permit at the Rwandese resident price (which he had been unable to do back in Kigali, due to his Congolese citizenship), and by no means could afford the non-resident fee. We thought he would be turned away at park headquarters and would have to wait for us to return, but decided to try just in case. Fortunately, our taxi driver know all the park rangers by name, took an interest in our underdog status, and chatted up the man issuing the precious permits. He agreed to let Laurent purchase the discounted ticket.
As we gathered with the guides to hear a pre-trip briefing, our group was joined by Hideaki, the lone Japanese tourist who arrived in at park headquarters in a suped-up Mitsubishi sports car. Turns out, he’s in Rwanda for the upcoming ‘road rally’ (pronounced ‘load lally’ by the Rwandese) and is in the hunt for the ‘Africa Cup Road Rally Championship’. My team climbed back into our rusting taxi, and the 2 guides hopped a ride in Hideaki’s sports car. We drove about 30 minutes until the road became impassible, and then we started walking.
I reluctantly accepted the fact that there would be no ‘Susa’ group for me this year. But I reminded myself of the bright side - Laurent would be able to attend, and that I would get to see local Rwandese experiencing for the first time, what is undoubtedly the biggest attraction their country has to offer in tourism. This would be good enough I told myself.
At the trailhead, the guides gathered our rag-tag band for one last briefing before entering the park. Then he told us something that changed my entire tune. One of the females in the gorilla clan we were approached, had only 3 days ago, given birth! The reminded us that the mother is very protective of newborns, and will not release her continuous hold on her baby for several weeks. We may not be lucky enough to see the new baby. But this hope brightened my thoughts tremendously. Ain’t no baby in the Susa group!
Given the rainy conditions, the walk turned out being perfect. And it was just long enough with sufficient bush-whacking through the forest to give you the impression of remoteness. When we first came upon the gorilla clan, I could just make out one climbing in the tree overhead. Then, I turned the corner to see the big chief himself, mister silverback sitting in a patch of grass lounging away. He size was very impressive – must have been around 300 pounds. Gorillas are strictly vegetarians, and the guides told us that they can consume as much as 60 kg a day of raw food. Gorillas don’t drink water, for they get an ample supply from the plants they consume.
Of course, the highlight of the experience, to be sure, was seeing the mother gorilla caring for her 3 day old infant. I’m not going to say much more here, because I’ll let the pictures do the talking. Suffice to say, we had a terrific time and all went home thoroughly satisfied. Life’s little lessons never cease. Cheers, all!
PS. Check out the short gorilla movie!
Team Rwanda gathering at Park Headquarters
Pre-Trip Briefing
Hiking In
Laurent in borrowed jacket
Silverback Alpha Male
Mom and newborn
Maternal instincts?
Chantelle
Pre-Trip Briefing
Hiking In
Laurent in borrowed jacket
Silverback Alpha Male
Mom and newborn
Maternal instincts?
Chantelle
The Bad News Bears
