"In a broken world, what can we gain by looking another animal in the eye? Join the writer Sam Anderson on a six-part, round-the-world journey in search of an answer."
This tease for NYT writer Sam Anderson's podcast "Animal" caught my eye this past week and reminded me of that time I looked a 450-pound silverback gorilla named Rafiki in the eye. It was in 2012. I wrote about it back then and will share it with you here. (BTW, I recommend Anderson's podcast.)
GORILLA TREKKING: HOW AND WHY
HOW
First, you decide on the country: DR of Congo, Rwanda or Uganda. My sister, Bobbie, and I chose the latter since that's where we were going to be anyway, but we did go through parts of Rwanda to get there. (To get to the small farming village where we'd start our trek, we traveled on a dirt road for an hour and half... it was way off the beaten path.)
Next, you select which family of habituated gorillas you'd like to visit. We chose the Nkuringo family (they are the least elusive and most used to having company.) Then we applied for and received our trekking permits. (Only eight per day are issued for each family of gorillas.)
Next, you select which family of habituated gorillas you'd like to visit. We chose the Nkuringo family (they are the least elusive and most used to having company.) Then we applied for and received our trekking permits. (Only eight per day are issued for each family of gorillas.)
Then you run your REI charge account to the max: rain pants, rain jacket, waterproof hiking books, hiking socks, etc. Fortunately, we were told by an experienced friend to also bring along a rugged pair of gardening gloves. (We blessed her later when we were tearing through all things thorned as we made our way up toward the gorillas.) Bobbie and I both already had good backpacks with rain covers. We also had binoculars. Walking sticks were provided by the camp where we stayed.
Next, you get yourself to the site. In our case, it was Bwindi Impenetrable Forest in southwest Uganda, one of the most beautiful places I've ever been. This exquisite corner of the world is home to many of the 700+ mountain gorillas who are alive today. The "gorilla camp" where we stayed for four nights had no electricity and only enough hot water for one three-minute shower at a time. The water was heated up on a coal fire and then poured into a large bag which was connected to the shower head. Our room got very cold by day's end; a hot water bottle was delivered to us each night before bed. Under the covers it went. Our wake up call was delivered each day by a lovely staff member who sang into our window "good morning!".
Then you get some trackers with cell phones and machetes (one tracker to lead the group of trekkers and two to travel ahead and zero in on the location of the gorillas), a couple guys with guns (to protect said trekkers from large charging animals) and a porter (to carry your pack and to help push or pull you up and down the mountain).
Finally, you muster up some physical strength from reserves you did not know you had. At 7500 feet, you keep planting your stick, lifting your feet, pulling up your weight and trying to breathe. (I thought walking on my gym's treadmill at 15% incline for forty-five minutes a few days a week before I left for Uganda would prepare me. Ha!) It's rainy season in Uganda, and the trail was muddy and slick.
The three most challenging things my body has ever endured.
1. having babies
2. suffering through severe bouts of vertigo
3. gorilla trekking
We trekked single file, at first with a lot of chattering, then mostly with just the sound of six tourists sucking in air, for 2 1/2 hours before our lead tracker spotted the first of the eight members of the Nkuringo family. (There are 14 members of the family, but we just saw eight. Still, not bad.) There was the silverback (the dominant male, whose back grays with age) some of his adoring females and several of their children. They took our breath away, what little we had left.
After all that work getting there, you'd think we'd get to spend the rest of the afternoon sitting comfortably in the bleachers eating snacks and taking pictures. Not! We had one hour, that's the rule. And whenever the gorillas felt like moving on up the mountain for a different bramble of vines on which to munch, no one was going to convince them otherwise. So we were constantly on the "hunt."
But that hour! One of the best of my life. We scrambled up the slope right behind the lovely and magnificent Nkuringos, our cameras ever at the ready. We got very close, often with 5 - 7 feet. Bobbie said I was beaming, grinning from ear to ear as I slipped and regained footing, got tangled up in thorny patches of undergrowth, took another deep breath and lifted my camera to my eye to stare at (oh yes, and photograph) these awesome relatives of ours. When my eyes squarely met those of Rafiki, the dominant male of the troop, I didn't know whether to laugh, cry or pray. Maybe I did a bit of each all at the same time. I felt like he was looking into me, then through me and then on to all my ancestors before me. His eyes were full of wisdom and strength. They were gentle and thoughtful. Rafiki seemed all-knowing. I had so many questions I wanted to ask him. Time seemed suspended. I was humbled and filled with awe. I couldn't speak, but, truthfully, there were no words to say.
After our hour was up, we relocated and then sat for a while to eat the lunches that had been packed for us. I couldn't say too much at that point, because of what I'd just witnessed. It was a lot to process. But also because I was thinking about the 2 1/2 hours of trekking that still lie ahead. Our tracker chose a "shorter" exit, one that took take less time but involved one very long, steep incline out of the forest. (We were all for "less time" at that point and heartily agreed with our able leader.) Bobbie and I may have been a bit hazy from the altitude and the exhaustion that was setting in, but we estimated that incline to be roughly 60 - 70 degrees. And it seemed to go on forever (at least in my mind it did... I was the oldest trekker in the group, so my mind got the winning vote.) On more than one occasion, I felt a pair of hands from behind me firmly grab my butt to lift me up over a particularly difficult impasse. Without the porters and my walking stick. I don't know that I could have done it!
WHY
Because there were no words.
