Coming eye to eye with a two hundred kilogram gorilla that has just opened its cavernous mouth to expose long, yellow, pointed canines is enough for anyone to turn tail and run. I almost do. Intelligent hazel-brown eyes stare at me, seeming to weigh my intentions. I have none, apart from wanting to spend a bit of time watching the gorillas in their natural habitat, and experiencing the beauty and grace of their strangely lumbering figures and genuinely dignified antics.
This young silverback is slightly hidden by the bamboo stalks, and presents a menacing figure, which is almost alleviated by the closing of its jaws to hide those objects of mass terrorization. It continues its scrutiny of the rest of my group, which includes five other Kenyans, our guide and one expert tracker. We pass muster; perhaps because of our stench. Having spent seven hours gorilla tracking in the deepest jungles of Uganda whilst staying on the move throughout, we stink almost as much as it does!
The Bwindi Impenetrable Rain Forest National Park in Uganda is just one of the main national parks that is host to the mountain gorillas, and true to its word, it is almost completely impenetrable. The tangle of thick, lush vegetation added to the muddy swirls on the forest floor make it quite impossible to navigate the body in tune with the mind. My walking stick, having saved me from a large number of extremely undignified falls, is already showing signs of wear and tear. Since the gorilla trek permit only allows one to be in the vicinity of the gorillas for up to one hour, we take a few photographs and move on in search of the other members of the group, leaving the silverback adult to its quiet foraging.
The trail disappears as we continue upwards, supporting our weight on the thick vines that seem to grow everywhere. Our tracker, continuously searching for clues to the gorillas whereabouts, suddenly motions for a halt. The dense undergrowth of the forest creates a dark and daunting perception of the jungle. The afternoon sun rays are very strong, and yet they can barely penetrate the thick canopy of the forest, which makes taking photographs in natural light impossible.
We creep forward softly to have a closer look. Here, lumbering towards us, are five full-grown very angry-looking gorillas and one baby. Watching five adult gorillas walking towards you is not something you can beat in terms of raw experience. They seem to be staring straight at us, brown eyes malevolent. The forest suddenly becomes silent. I can no longer hear the songs of the birds in the trees, nor the gentle roar of the waterfall to my left. The sweet scent of mud and musk rising from the forest ground disappears. I am bewildered by the sudden disappearance of an environment teeming with animals and birds. And then I realize. It isnt the forest. It is me. My fear at having to face a force of nature so wild, so unpredictable, that nothing in the world can prepare you for it. It is the fear of death.
Having had quite a few wild game experiences so far, I know the importance of keeping still and looking non-threatening. However, as the saliva in my mouth dries completely and the raw feeling in my throat as I try to keep calm is exacerbated by the pounding of my heart, I get a violent urge to scurry into the undergrowth to prevent any of the gorillas from chancing upon us at all. With all wild apes, unpredictability is a force of nature, so I really do not want to take a risk with these.
We were warned at the beginning of the expedition that whenever any one of us was approached by a gorilla, the first action that we should take is to kneel down on all fours and pretend to eat grass. We had laughed then, at the start of the trek, when our guide was imparting this piece of information. Now, facing the prospect of a face to face with five huge gorillas weighting approximately two hundred kilogram each, it doesn't seem so funny! We kneel down, on all fours, and pretend to eat grass!
Suddenly, the gorillas stop in their tracks. They have finally scented us. As with any mammal, threats are more easily perceived and misunderstood where babies are concerned, and for these gorillas, we are a big threat. They dont want us anywhere near their young one. They stand motionless, staring at us, as if trying to determine their next action. The members of my trek group start moving backwards slowly, panicking. As I am at the furthest end, I get to watch their backsides swaying in the air as they hurriedly crawl back on all fours. Somehow, this breaks the tension building up inside me, and I feel the urge to laugh loudly. It is hysteria, it must be.
Our guide, making things worse, calmly advices us not to take any photographs which might aggravate the group of gorillas. Its not like any of us are in the right state to do that, anyway! I laugh. Our guide swivels his head, in shock. So do my teammates. They think Im crazy. One of the gorilla roars. The sound kills my laughter. As if the sound was a signal, they start fading back into the thick vegetation, and are soon gone from sight. The acrid fear disappears, leaving behind the strong stench of sweat.
Our allotted hour is long passed. It is time to go home. As we walk back along the trail, we laugh in relief, and in wonder. We did not get even one photograph of the group of gorillas, but we will not be needing them anyway. The memory of that moment, of those slowly ticking minutes spent in the company of the gorillas is burnt into our minds, never to be forgotten, to be taken out at times and pondered over, and smiled upon. It was, for all of us, a defining moment of our lives in the depth of the African jungles under the rays of the African sun. We took a moment to thank God and laughed all the way home.
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