The much awaited next installment from Houston Zoo Primate Supervisor Lynn Killam on her truly breathtaking adventures on a recent trip to Rwanda’s national parks is here!
Rwanda, Africa
Continuing on from where we left off on the last post, our second gorilla encounter was more typical, but no less thrilling. I had specifically asked to visit the same group as the one I saw 24 years back: Group 13. I was told that this group had re-formed after the death of their leader “Mrithi”, and that no original members were left in the group any longer. A new male called Agasha had led his life as a lone male for some time before he began collecting females and formed a new group in the same area, and when that happened, the group was re-named Agasha. Apparently Agasha has fathered more infants than any other silverback in any other group, and this group was the largest of them all. I wondered if Agasha was one of Mrithi’s offspring, but didn’t dwell on it, as it was impossible to find out.
The Agasha group was typically one that was not far from the edge of the forest, and easier to get to. However, on this day, they had retreated further up into the park, as if to challenge us and really make us work for the high privilege of being able to see them. We trudged upwards, over slippery, moss-covered logs and under low branches. We climbed over rocks and tried to avoid the painful barbs of the stinging nettles. Although we thought we’d be used to it by now, the altitude and the vertical climbing was still not any easier.
Just when we thought that we couldn’t take another step, our guide stopped and told us to take our gear off: the gorillas were near. We left everything except cameras with our porters and climbed the rest of the way on our own. We entered a green clearing, and the foliage seemed to part as a theater curtain parts for a play. There, in the center, was a huge family of gorillas.
Agasha was immediately evident, as all of the activity revolved around his imposing greatness. He reclined on his belly, his massive silver back adorned by one of his offspring, who sat on top of papa as if on a particularly large and comfortable sofa.
Agasha
His many females surrounded him, each of them doting on tiny babies, mid-sized babies, and half a dozen juveniles who wandered and played in the center. It was an incredible, even shocking experience to walk into such a seemingly secret circle, one that seemed so intimate and personal. If I hadn’t experienced it myself I would say that we were intruding, but some of the animals glanced at us and then resumed what they were doing, giving us no more notice than we might give a fly on the wall.
Agasha, magnificent silverback
Once in place, we realized that we were considerably closer than the 7 meters away required by the guidelines. But, we were surrounded by thick forest and really had nowhere else to go — and our guides and the trackers nodded their approval at us that it was okay to be as close as we were. We settled in, just endeavoring to take it all in, clumped together like so many sardines in a can.
We were entranced by a tiny toddler with an impressive head of hair standing straight up, as he wobbled from his mother’s lap towards “The Chief” (as the guides called Agasha). On unsteady legs, this infant made its way over to grasp the long hair on Agasha’s arm, and held on for a moment, before apparently being dissuaded from coming closer. Agasha was so patient with the youngster on his back, but seemed to delicately rebuff each attempt at contact by this baby, who seemed thimble-sized compared to his father’s giant bulk. Just then, a nearby mother disciplined a juvenile attempting to play with her infant. For some reason unknown to us, Agasha rose up, and suddenly pandemonium broke out in the group. As we tried to watch and simultaneously get out of the way as quickly as possible, Agasha lunged toward this female and bit her on the side. Screaming ensued, from the mother who was bitten, the offspring who were all around her (and possibly from us, as well; my memory fails me here.) A mini-stampede of eight tourists trampled plants to get out of the way as gorillas leapt up and went in every possible direction. The guides jumped in between us and the gorillas and made soothing gorilla vocalizations until the upset was over, and the noise and commotion subsided as quickly as it had begun.
Peace resumed, and for the rest of the hour we observed nothing but tranquility. Mothers vigorously groomed their infants, holding them upside-down and sideways to get at all the spots that needed attention. Youngsters played with legs akimbo while grimacing in silent laughter. Babies suckled contentedly as Agasha settled in for a nap. A mother behind us spooned with her nearly grown youngster and their eyes closed in blissful lack of awareness of our presence.
A mother resting with her offspring
I looked at Agasha and thought…maybe he is Mrithi’s son. Perhaps I’m watching a new generation of gorillas, living in this forest on the edge of teeming humanity. How lucky they are right now; they are protected well. That sparkling sense of wonder, the fervent hope for their future and the love for these gorillas will be with me for the rest of my days.
Written by Lynn Killam, Primate Supervisor
Photos by Barbara Lester
To read the previous entries from Lynn’s thrilling trip, click Lynn Killam’s Rwanda National Parks.
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Only today I got around to finally start to read this fantastic blog, and I am wondering why on earth I did not get to it before. This is truly beautifully written. You brought tears to my eyes several times as I could feel the joy and amazement to be so close to these animals. Thanks for sharing your adventures with us.
Thank you so much, Nathalie, that means a lot coming from you. I wish the whole primate staff could have been with us!
This blog really is well written. Thank you so much for sharing details of this wonderful experience. I wish someone could have recorded video of the chaotic scenes, but I realize the main concern at the time was safety. And this brings up a point that I often make about the value of zoos. Many times I have witnessed similar scenes in zoos that exhibit gorillas. But I didn’t have to run from the area, so I could focus on observing all the details of the interactions. Just as the humans had to do in this situation, zoo visitors have to be patient – and quiet. If they are, they CAN feel some of the same joy and amazement that Lynn felt. And they can feel that joy and amazement while watching animals that are also safe and protected at all times.
Merry: we actually do have video of this event, taken by Barbara. It is really something to see. How she managed to get video while simultaneously trying to get out of the way is an accomplisment, I must say!