Gorillas in our midst

DEEP in the Rwandan jungle, Emma Kemp comes face-to-face with the gorillas who starred with Sigourney Weaver in Gorillas in the Mist.

THERE'S a loud crack behind me, and I turn quickly to see a striking jet black mass with a slicked silver back suddenly emerge from the thick green backdrop.

We've been told we shouldn't make direct eye contact, but I can't help myself. Framed by this mighty body of black fur are the smallest of eyes, embedded in a hollow of wrinkles.

As we check each other out, I know he can sense the connection between us.

I'm face to face with a real-live mountain gorilla on his turf. Sitting down, this alpha male is still taller than me, but there isn't a trace of hostility in the air as he munches on wild celery not five metres away.

A visit to these extraordinary primates is a heady, incongruous mix of raw physical strength and a rare vulnerability. It's a truly awe-striking encounter that transcends any other wildlife experience.

"Hey, it really is 'gorillas in the mist'", quips one of our group, gesturing towards the dense canopy. And sure enough, a wisp of water vapour floats down from above to curtain us.

Jokes start flying that "muzungus in the mist" would be a more accurate phrase. "Muzungu" is the Swahili word for "white man".

I'm told it can also mean "wandering fool", but is neither an insulting nor an endearing term. Nevertheless, there we all are, deep in the heart of the Rwandan jungle.

Rwanda is called the land of the thousand hills. Although more famous for its harrowing civil war 14 years ago, the East African nation is rich with dense equatorial forest and heavily cultivated grassy uplands and hills.

Roughly half of the world's surviving population of less than 700 gorillas live here. Poaching, deforestation and human borne diseases have caused the decimation of most of the once abundant population that lived in Rwanda and across the borders into Uganda and the DR Congo.

For this reason they are protected by fulltime rangers in the Volcanoes National Park. No more than 32 people can visit the gorillas each day.

We begin our trip in the early hours of the morning at the park headquarters. I manage to squeeze myself into the group of eight that sets out to find the Susa family, the largest and most remote of the gorilla groups in the park.

They are also the group that starred with Sigourney Weaver in the 1989 movie Gorillas in the Mist. Thirty-two-year-old Poppy, one of the oldest known habituated gorillas, is believed to have been from one of Dian Fossey's original gorilla groups.

We are assigned our guide Olivier and three armed rangers to protect us from water buffalo.

Our expedition begins at a local school and ascends through the lush terraced farmland of the lower volcanic slopes. The climb is steady and not overly strenuous, but we set out pole, pole ("slowly, slowly" in Swahili). With each step, layers of cultivated crops fall away and the rugged peaks of the Vuringu volcanoes become more visible.

Children run out from their small village homes, giggling and shouting greetings to these strange tourists in their big boots.

It takes just over an hour to reach the official entrance of the park, and I am slightly taken aback. Fields run right up to the abrupt stone wall but from there on the foliage is so thick we can't make out anything beyond it. Trackers wait to meet us here, having already located the gorillas earlier this morning.

We venture single-file into the thicker vegetation, not knowing if we are setting off on a ten-minute walk or a four-hour hike. Weaving vines tangle around us, and the rangers widen the ever-thinning path by hacking away at the foliage with big machetes.

I cheekily picture myself as Tarzan, strategically negotiating the dangers of the jungle although I'm pretty sure he never wore gardening gloves to protect himself from stinging nettles.

The Susa family lives at a high altitude but it is not until we reach nearly 4000m that I can sense we are not alone. One guy in our group begins flailing his arms around in silent craziness, and I'm caught up in the sight of him for a moment before I realise he's gesturing towards an enormous silverback gorilla stalking towards us.

Initial exhilaration is quickly followed by an uneasy feeling that our intrusion will not be favourably received, but he stops just short of us and doesn't seem the least bit concerned about the dozen pairs of watchful eyes anticipating his every move.

Olivier tells us we are lucky because we have found the gorillas during their daily siesta. And sure enough, 20 others are chilling out together not far away. The younger ones dart around playfully, climbing trees and balancing on the very edge of branches.

Impana and Byishimo – the only set of gorilla twins known to have survived – wrestle with each other, rolling around on the ground nearby. The adult females lie around patiently, keeping a watchful eye on them.

All of this happens under the supervision of the alpha male: the largest, most dominant of the gorillas and identifiable by the silver streak on his back.

We laugh as we recognise our own habits and behaviours play out right in front of us in this family of primates. Although strange, this is not surprising, as gorillas share 90 per cent of their DNA with humans.

As we snap away frantically on our cameras, Olivier communicates to the gorillas in a low-pitched, throat-curdling growl. He tells us that this lets them know we're here, but that we mean no harm, we are subservient.

A mother with a three-month-old baby perched on her back comes within a metre of us; the infant's tiny shaky arm trying to keep itself steady. Olivier makes a firm call for "distance", and we step back off the path to let them pass.

It's essential to keep at least seven metres away from the gorillas to protect them from human disease. Even a small cold can be fatal to entire populations, so anyone with even a sniffle is advised not to visit the gorillas.

There is also a broadly held consensus among gorilla watchers that it's a bad idea to look the apes in the eye for too long.

Just one week before our visit, a male tourist had apparently made this mistake. An angry 150kg silverback dragged him off into the forest by the ankles. He survived, unscathed but shaken.

Naturally, we are apprehensive.

I take this up with our guide, Olivier. He says it doesn't matter so much here, because these gorillas are very used to humans coming to see them every day. But he does maintain we need to keep our distance throughout.

Most tourist groups spend about half a day on average up in the mountains, depending on how quickly they find the gorillas.

Just as we are given a five-minute departure warning, the silverback rises to his feet and makes a strange high pitched noise.

"He is going to beat his chest," says Olivier.

As he stands on his hind legs, the sound rings out in the treetops. And then as if to finish off this dramatic scene, he violently shakes a nearby tree.

We watch as he stalks past us and stands high and proud, majestically looking up to the mountains above … and then he lets out an absolute whopper.

One thing is for sure, gorillas can certainly fart more impressively than humans.