Gorillas and Guerrillas

There are gorillas and guerrillas. And you get both in Virunga National Park in the eastern Congo region of North Kivu. We were desperate to see one, but not the other.

We set off from Goma, the region’s main city, early one morning with our driver Caleb. To avoid the inevitable road blocks, Caleb had pasted ‘Press’ notices to the 4WD’s windows. Technically we weren’t media but it was exhilarating speeding along the rutted, crowded dirt road that acts as one of Goma’s main arteries, with horns blaring as if we were chasing down the story of a lifetime. Really, we were taking a day off from documentary making to visit one of Goma’s few tourist highlights - and as it turns out, one of the highlights of my life.

The Democratic Republic of Congo is one of the world’s most destabilised countries. The eastern region has been particularly violent with armed militia groups fighting for territory in the Virunga region. One of many victims of this armed struggle, are the mountain gorillas and the dedicated rangers who risk their lives protecting them. To support this work and to see these amazing apes in their natural habitat, we decided to make the daytrip up to the park, trek into the jungle and hopefully encounter these massive primates.

Leaving the outskirts of Goma, we pass dozens of chukudu wooden bike porters heading into town with their wares, and head up into the remoteness of Virunga Mountains. The scenery is amazing. Small villages scattered around the lush, rolling landscape with the active Nyiragongo volcano steaming away to the west. As we climb higher, we bounce around in the car like socks in a washing machine, driving over what is effectively footpaths through the trees. A recent downpour has made the way slippery and the wheels get stuck in the muddy bog. Fortunately a large group of cheeky, curious boys are happy to push us out in exchange for a few Congolese coins. At one point the 4WD gets lodged at tipping point on a particularly nasty rut - right in front of a group of Congolese soldiers - and we’re stuck fast. Fortunately the leader of these soldiers is a good man so rounds up his troops and gets us out in no time.

After a couple of hours of this and steam pouring out of the car’s engine, we limp into the park and our adventure can begin.

It turns out that the other group booked onto the tour have broken down en route, so there’s only two of us. After a briefing session, we don our waterproofs and are introduced to our guide Ranger Jules. With two machete-wearing porters we set off into the jungle just as the rain clouds open again.

Despite the drenching we endure as we literally cut our way through the dense forest, I feel an overwhelming awe of where I actually am: the Congo jungle - a place of stories, adventures and wonders that few outsiders experience. I can’t believe I’m here.

Suddenly the distinctive chest beating call of the silverback echoes around the trees. Jules points out a large, flattened area of leaves with a healthy dollop of gorilla faeces in the centre of it. We’re getting near, we’re in their territory and living by their rules.

Incongruously, Jules hands me a surgical mask. Gorillas are susceptible to our diseases so we have to cover up. We put on the masks, and Jules whispers ‘ready’? We nod, and he folds back a large fern leaf to reveal a silverback. A real life, massive 400 lb, blackhaired mountain gorilla sitting about 20 feet away biting his finger nails. We’re gobsmacked. Ranger Jules makes calming, trilling noises at him but he’s used to visitors and barely acknowledges us. He’s had a falling out with the family’s adult silverback and is huffing.

After a breath-holding 15 minutes of watching this wonderful creature not do much at all, Jules leads us to the main family unit. Again, the fern leaves are peeled back and in a small clearing, only a few metres in front of us, is the family: larger silverback, two females, one two year old and a baby. We quietly enter the clearing and watch. The gorillas watch us. For 30 minutes we stare back at each other, and I marvel at how very human they are.

The rain comes again and the silverback takes cover under a large branch where the toddler had been sitting. She runs towards us to get out of his way. She stands a foot away from me, but I daren’t reach out and stroke her. She’s lovely. A big, flat face, short bristly hair and completely unafraid of me. We wait for the silverback to settle down but he can’t get comfortable. He stretches, beats his chest and lurches towards us. All of us, including the toddler, press deep into the foliage to get out of his way as he crashes and snaps through the trees. He lopes down a path. The females follow, then the toddler, then us. We follow for a few minutes, then he turns and looks at us. This is our cue to leave and I’m heartbroken that we’re parting company.

The rangers somehow navigate us out of the jungle, hacking a path back to the car. Soon, we’re driving back to Goma - soaked to the skin but changed forever by the encounter with the amazing mountain gorillas.