Continue your adventure with Houston Zoo Primate Supervisor Lynn Killam, as we present the next installment of her exciting series on her recent trip seeing wildlife in Rwanda’s National Parks.
The spectacular ending to this trip was, of course, gorillas. We arrived in Ruhengeri, the bustling town nearest to Virungas National Park, at the end of a long day of driving. Our guide Paul kept us on animal alert along the way by pointing out and stopping for bird views, snake and chameleon finds, and the occasional peculiarity such as a Giant Kingfisher trying to consume a fish much too large for its gullet. We paused for lunch at the Muhubura Hotel, where we chatted happily in anticipation of our plans to view two groups of gorillas, see Golden monkeys, and visit Dian Fossey’s gravesite.
In the late ‘70’s, Dian Fossey came to Africa to study mountain gorillas; the first person to do so since Dr. George Schaller did his groundbreaking work. She did invaluable fieldwork and brought much-needed attention to the fast-dwindling numbers of these endangered, gentle giants, but also brought controversy. Her life ended in 1985 in her research home, high up on the slope in between the Karisimbe and Visoke mountains, with the strike of a machete from an unknown murderer. She was buried next to her most beloved gorilla, Digit, who became famous after her book “Gorillas in the Mist” was published. I had visited Rwanda to see gorillas in 1986, some three months after Fossey was killed, and very much wanted to visit her gravesite, but at that time tourists were not permitted to do so. Some twenty-four years later, I was now able to have the chance. The opportunity to visit her grave, pay our respects to her and all the gorillas buried there, was very important to both Barbara and me.
The morning of our visit drew threatening rain. We assembled at the visitor’s center where our guide was to be assigned, and found ourselves with Francis, a burly, engaging man with a wide, gap-toothed smile. He was the oldest of the guides, at 59 (the average age of a Rwandan is only 55) and he had worked all those years ago with Dian Fossey herself.
As we struggled up the mountain behind him, he regaled us with stories of Dian, what she was like to work with, and his respect for this commanding woman. Interspersed with his tales were demonstrations of gorilla behavior, including consumption of some of the gorillas’ favorite foods, accompanied by vigorous and accurate vocalizations as well as enthusiastic chest-beating. Our agonizing climb, assisted by porters carrying our packs, was made easier by these stops; we could catch our breath and rest as we listened and laughed.
Francis offering Paul a pyrethrum flower to smell
Over five hours later, after hiking through some of the most beautiful forests that any of us had ever seen, we staggered, with lungs gulping at the thin air, up to Karisimbe, the remnants of the compound where Dian had worked and studied. It was eerily silent, devoid of even a bird singing. A short hike later and we saw the gravestones appear around a corner – a heartbreaking reminder of the many sacrifices made by gorillas and this researcher alike. At one side lay Dian Fossey’s grave, and next to her was Digit’s. Many of the other gorillas familiar to her readers were there: Effie, Titus, Puck and others. We sat next to her grave, lost in thought, and for a few minutes went back in time to a place inhabited just by gorillas.
Gravesite of Dian Fossey
Barbara and I had worked for many years with the only Eastern Lowland Gorilla on the North American continent, “M’kubwa”. He had been correctly identified as such by Dian Fossey herself when he was a young blackback living at the Oklahoma City Zoo (they thought he was a Mountain gorilla). He had been wild caught in what is now the Democratic Republic of Congo (formerly Zaire) back in the oppressive days when such things were still done.
He was a magnificent silverback who endeared himself to everyone who knew him: noble and elegant, he was a stunning, impressive male. “M’kubwa” died at the age of 54 after a few years of battling congestive heart failure. At the time of his death, I had collected a few of his hairs to remember the old man by, and they sat in a small glass jar near some other mementos of him. As Barbara and I choked back tears at the gravesite, I placed some of M’kubwa’s long black and silver hairs at Titus’ grave. Titus lived a long, natural life as the leader of his troop, and this action, for me, symbolized the life that M’kubwa should have had. Barbara placed the rest of his hairs under a stone directly on Dian Fossey’s grave, to symbolize her status as a gorilla protector, as M’kubwa was the gorilla who we cared for and protected for all those years.
Our hike down the mountain was slippery, muddy, and fast. Desperately clinging alternately to our guide or my porter for stability, I slid most of the way, trying to be careful not to break a leg. As we headed for the mountain’s foothills, a deluge from the sky opened up, causing small rivers to appear in the chasms that we were attempting to navigate. Raingear seemed superfluous, as chilly winds brought the rain up and under our ponchos.
We arrived at Paul’s car as fully wretched, bedraggled and miserable as river rats, and he looked somewhat alarmed at our appearance. Our ride back to the hotel was silent, as we simply had no energy left to engage in any small talk. We crawled up to our rooms, collapsed into our beds after a tepid shower, and reflected upon the surreal day as we drifted into unconsciousness.
To be continued! Check back right here for the next post about this moving journey.
Written by Lynn Killam, Photo by Barbara Lester
Thank you to go-safari.com for photo of Fossey gravesite
