Gorillas

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It's been another busy week so far. We crossed the border from Kenya to Uganda and have spent days driving through Uganda's beautiful lucious countryside, with bright green rolling hills and rich brick red dirt tracks. It was a far cry from the dry ashy land of Kenya.

A few of us decided to cross the border to Rwanda on Friday to see the Genocide Museum for those million people that died during the Genocide of 1994.

We spent most of the journey reading up on the tragic civil war between tribal groups, the Hutus and the Tutsis. Hearing about the mass slaughter of thousands of people brought a tear to my eye. The immense sacrifice of human kind that took place here only 14 years ago is both sickening and heart-breaking. Everyone here is still a victim to the war - they have had and seen their husbands, wives, children, mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters murdered by these brutal acts and they will never recover from this. You can almost still smell the stale scent of blood over this land of a thousand hills and through its terrocatta valleys.

The facts are shocking enough: in three months Hutu-led military killed about 800,000 Tutsis and Hutu-moderates in operations of mass-slaughter; people had to eventually shoot dogs because there were so many dead bodies around, the canines were getting a taste for human flesh.

On our short and poignant exploration of Rwanda we visited a church that was badly affected by the events. On one day 10,000 Tutsis of villages from miles aways ran to this church in order to escape the brutal massacre, thinking that they would be safe in a place of God. However, it was here that one of the worst attrocities of the genocide occurred.

The Hutus showed no mercy, respect or humanity as they butchered all 10,000 of them. To this day, you can see the scars of the tragic event.

There are bullet holes in the ceilings and the walls, shattering whole areas from the intensity of the firearms; there are blood stains on the wall, there are smashed glass windows from where people tried to escape, there are rosaries hung up that were found on the dead bodies and there is an entire room filled with the bloodied clothes of each and every victim.

But most disturbingly was when the sombre lady who had clearly been scarred by these acts, described how they raped and murdered mothers in front of their chlidren. They threw babies and toddlers against the concrete church walls and smashed their tiny skulls until their bodies were completed crushed. And all this they did in front of their mothers. It was horrific to hear, and yet so clear to imagine; blood streaks of the children's bodies are still visible on the dirtied walls.

The lady then took through a labyrinth of tunnels that housed bones of over 40,000 bodies of people that had died from the genocide from neighbouring villages. These towns were virtually wiped out.

The skulls were the hardest to swallow - some were clearly burnt, some had bullet holes and some were simply smashed to pieces.

But what brought it all home was seeing the people around the church who still, 14 years on, were burying these bones. They must have been the only survivors. Their brothers, fathers, mothers, children, sisters...these are the bones they are burying. They all stared at us as we walked around the church; silent and still they watched us. It was clear that the tragedies were still in their lives and whilst we were just visiting, they could never forget.

As we were leaving we saw men in pink shirts helping with gardening in the re-established town. I had just read that some of the genocide criminals that had been imprisoned had now been released and sentenced to community service. To distinguish them, they were made to wear pink shirts.

So, here stood the murderers of those thousands of victims, feet away from the victims' relatives. It was humbling to see how they just accepted each other. But they knew that if they didn't the war would never end, and many thousands more would be killed.


The following day we woke up bright and early for our big adventure - the Gorilla Trek.
None of us knew what we should expect from the expedition. It's hard to fathom the idea that some of the world's most endangered species will be standing just feet away from you. And even right up until our guides starting making gorilla noses and you could hear rustling in the trees above our heards we had no idea of the momentous experience we were about to encounter.
You could feel the weight of their two tonne bodies as they heavily jumped and lept from tree to tree, showering you with leaves and branches as they went. The noises they were made were incredible too, from nervous laughter to screaching barks. There was a point when they screeched so loudly that we all thought about running away, leaping through the forest away from the present danger.
But we needn't have worried; within moments, the howling had ended and the jungle rythm dulled to a more reassuring lull. The manic swinging stopped and peace resumed. Everything was as it was - with one difference. Here we were, feet away from the daddy of all primates, the Silverback.
Staring at us straight in the face, he sat big and broad as he munched through his leaves. At moments, he became unsure of us again and one time he screehced, stood up, beat his chest and charged past us. Between breaths of 'Shit' and 'Oh my God' our guides repeated meekly 'Don't worry; be firm; be firm'. But you try having a two tonne beast charge at you. He even managed to knock over one of our group by clipping her slightly but she was fine so we sat still and followed our instructions to 'be firm'. They were right. The gorilla was fine after that. And we resumed our trigger-happy snapping.

As he moved, rolled over on his back, made eye contact and stared at you directly in the eye, it was hard to detach this beautiful creature from our human selves. They were so familiar and similiar to us that inspite of his size and might we all remained calm and 'firm' without our guides reminding us to do so.
It was such a phenomenal experience to be next to this creature, watching him chomp through huge bamboo shoots and tall trees, performing a show for us merely a metre away.
When our time was nearly up he walked away, almost as if on cue to save the best till last. As we all eagerly followed him on his precarious, slippery and entangled route he unfolded the most amazing sight ever. Between sheets of forest leaves hidden between folds of jungle growth lay hidden his entire family. And now, as he clambered down the hillside to join them, he weas welcoming us to them.
Three silverbacks and a few rascal teenagers played, slept and rolled around in the midday sun. It was beatiful. It was so surreal to see so many of them and the guides said that a sight like this is only ever seen about once a year. They themselves were blown away by the spectacle that they began fervently taking photos of this memorable occassion. Some people got amazing shots but the lack of flash meant that most of our photos could not do justice to this adventure. They did not truly illustrate the power, strength, gentleness and beauty of these marvellous mammals.
Still, these are memories that will never fade with time and as we left I was still shaking with excitement and a little nervousness. We had achieved what not many ever do and I was exhilerated with our secret discovery.
It sounds like a chiche but not even words can describe what we had encountered. I will never forget the hollow sound of the mighty chest beats, or the baby gorillas hopping on the backs of the adults and they mischieviously played or the rush of excitement at being completed surrounded by these mighty giants.
These memories will last a lifetime, taking me right back in the heart of the Virungas where I came face to face with a wild Silverback. Not many people can say that.
I may never get the chance to experience these moments again but I have been so lucky to have been able to even have had them at all. And these are not moments that I will not easily forget.

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