I am bumping around Volcanoes National Park in Rwanda today with award winning photographer Mattias Klum.  The Park and its environs can provide a lifetime’s worth of award winning images, but Mattias has another purpose on this trip: to document the beginning stages of the IGCP led mountain gorilla census in the Virunga Volcanoes Massif.  It’s been seven years since the last census here, and these counts give us vital information about the state of the mountain gorilla, and its conservation, in this land of overgrown Eden and fickle sky.  In two months time, we hope to have a fairly accurate count of all the gorilla populations that romp across the Virungas, using that data to inform conservation action for now and the future.

The clouds hover over Sabyinyo as it rises from the rich soil of Kinigi's villages

The Virungas are more than the wondrous playground of the gorillas and rain-scrubbed volcanoes – the densely populated slopes burst with villages – families scratching out a living in the chocolate volcanic soil.  Today we will slip into these tight-knit communities, documenting the challenges of everyday life, learning how the people of Kinigi village and its surrounding hamlets live with and within this demanding environment.  The IGCP community walk project provides visitors with a true insight into the rhythms of life here, and adds to families’ alternative income sources, thus reducing pressure on the National Park and its own families.

But we don’t even come to stop before a gaggle of smiling kids have formed an audience.  We are looking for Josephine, who weaves traditional mats – a vital component to every household, whether they be used for sleeping, doors or simply drying maize in the sun.  Josephine’s shy smile gives her away and we decline an offer for a quick lesson in weaving: our clumsy hands would be no match for her quick, dexterous finger work.

Jospehine's dexterous hands go to work

As we head out into the field to find the local blacksmith, clumps of pinkish-red skinned potatoes appear, freshly unearthed and drying in the sun.  It is harvest time, and our path snakes through overturned potato fields on the right and the purplish-yellow stumps of recently harvested corn stalks on the left.  Work never stops here, and a wiry old mama, with her bright yellow sarong, is pitching into fragrant soil with a local hoe.  I try my hand at it, but the muscles ache after only turning over a few clumps.  This is hard work.

After documenting the blacksmith shaping local tools, we have a sip of the local brew: banana beer.  The milky brown liquid is both sweet and sour, sliding down the throat without the normal alcohol burn.  After a few sips, I notice the clouds spreading back out.  Rain is imminent.

The sky ruptures as we hike up the ridge to the next village, Musanze town simmering in the valley below, like the steam rising from one of those freshly boiled local potatoes after quickly slicing it open.  Behind, the layers of Rwanda’s “thousand hills” stack on top of each other in layers, like elegantly constructed origami.  We stop at a tree nursery, where an old man practices agro-forestry the traditional way, by collecting eucalyptus and other seeds directly from the local trees, and nurturing them in tiny bags of rich soil, eventually selling them to locals who raise trees for firewood, shade, as agricultural buffers, and for other uses.  In this densely populated land where most of the forests were razed a long time ago for agriculture, tree growing reduces the pressure of illegal wood collection in the Park.

Planting an Eucalyptus seedling at the tree nursery

Soon the fecund clouds consume Sabyinyo’s peaks, and the rain is whipping horizontal as we take shelter to watch the local cobbler pull apart the spines of an old umbrella like plucking individual hairs from the head, and then tie them back together and attach them to the fabric in ten minutes for a newly functioning rain shield.  We race to a nearby household for lunch with a local family: soft red beans and the ubiquitous potato piled haphazardly high on large woven bamboo saucers.  We eat with our hands, and wait out the cold rain, which is thundering like a chorus of full-steam locomotives on the tin roof over our heads.

As the rain sweeps down to the valleys below, we collect kids again – pushing old bicycle tubes with sticks and jostling for position to mug for our camera as we head towards the Batwa community.   School apparently is out.  A wave of singing, smiling uniforms lap at our heels, nudging us towards the Batwa dance pavilion.

When school is out the kids are camera ready

The Batwa (pygmy) peoples are a tiny minority here whose recent lifestyle changes have nevertheless had a huge impact on the local environment and communities.  Before the Park was designated, and became off limits to human habitation, they hunted, gathered foods and slept in its dewy forests.  When faced with eviction they settled near the Park’s borders, bringing the message of conservation and respect for the forest’s bounty to new generations and the wider community.   The rhythmic dances we witness today bring these messages home in a melee of stomping and gyrating.

Mattias and his crew are smiling.  They have been smiling all day.  To step even lightly into this community, woven from strands of nourishing rain and rich earth in the shadow of rugged heaps which once spewed fire but now sprout life, is to find harmony and goodwill, along with too many smiles, handshakes and hugs to count.  The challenges remain, however, and this gorilla census in the end is not only for the gorilla families and their forest home – it is for all families, and for a future that glimmers like the fresh mountain rain on Virunga’s fields of green.  We look forward to Mattias’ document bringing this to life in communities worldwide.  The heritage here, after all, amounts to more than a local source of pride.  It is an enduring treasure whose loss would make us all a bit poorer.

The successful candidate will be responsible for all communications and media activities both within IGCP and throughout its network of partners and supporters by creating, disseminating and managing content that informs staff and fellow mountain gorilla conservation professionals as well as publicizing IGCP’s work to a wider audience on a national and international level.

Required qualifications:

• Bachelor’s degree in media and communications with experience in  conservation or social or related sciences
• Superior writing and editing skills
• Media production skills in a variety of formats (internet, print, video)
• Fluent in English  and good working knowledge of French (or vice versa)
• Experience working with NGOs

• Ability to effectively manage multiple tasks and to prioritize them, while adhering to tight deadlines
• Willingness to travel frequently within the region, with an openness to diverse cultures and communities
• Excellent interpersonal skills and ability to work as part of a tight knit team
• Genuine interest in conservation and community development issues

Candidates who fully meet the above requirements should submit a cover letter, a detailed CV, including a daytime telephone contact and three referees to:  igcp@awfafrica.org by March 15, 2010.  Only short-listed candidates shall be contacted.

The full job description follows below:

Position:  IGCP Communications Officer

Supervisor:  IGCP Director

Duty Station:  Kigali, Rwanda

1. Introduction

The International Gorilla Conservation Programme (IGCP) is a coalition programme of three international conservation organizations: African Wildlife Foundation, Fauna & Flora International and World Wide Fund for Nature.  The IGCP undertakes activities that are geared towards the conservation of mountain gorillas and their habitat within the Virunga-Bwindi region of the Central Albertine Rift, Africa.  The programme activities are designed to place the conservation of mountain gorillas and their afro-montane habitat in a broader “landscape context”.  This landscape context includes looking at the relevant parks in the region (DRC, Rwanda and Uganda), looking at threats to conservation targets in the region and designing threat abatement strategies.  These strategies include supporting the protected area authorities in Rwanda, Uganda and the DRC, strengthening transboundary collaboration in the region, providing information for park managers and supporting communities to develop viable conservation enterprises, which generate alternative income from forest resources and reduce pressure on natural resources.

IGCP is now interested in recruiting a Communications Officer to assist in efforts to increase the visibility of the organization, and to bring additional full time capacity in the field of communications so that news from the field is sent out to interested parties in good time, complementing the efforts of IGCP staff in the protection and conservation of the mountain gorilla and its habitat.  The position will complement the existing IGCP team, bringing important skills that are not available within the current IGCP staff.

2. Purpose:

The purpose of recruiting a Communications Officer is to help with communications and increase the profile of IGCP activities at a national, regional and international level.

3. Working area

This position will be based in Kigali, Rwanda with regional travel and activities in the area of operation of IGCP which is Virunga National Park in eastern DRC, Bwindi Impenetrable and Mgahinga National Parks in south west Uganda and Volcanoes National Park in northern Rwanda.

4. Key Tasks

• Assist to maintain and manage IGCP website: this includes uploading new content, collecting updates from field offices to be posted on the site, maintaining the blog, posting press releases and regular updating of static pages as needed.
• Update and maintain IGCP internet social networking sites, i.e. Facebook, Twitter, YouTube and Flickr
• Provide support in publication of newsletters and annual reports, including writing, editing, publishing and distribution.
• Ensure current information is passed to the IGCP Directorate in a timely fashion.
• Assist in preparation and distribution of IGCP communications/promotional materials (including documenting IGCP activities with photographs and video footage and regular stories from the field).
• Assist in developing of IGCP fact sheets, flyers, posters and other promotional materials.
• Manage internal communications with IGCP staff and its partners: regular updating and enhancement of communication flows between stakeholders through consistent contact via email, telephone, site visits, meetings, workshops and special events.
• Handle media and general public enquiries, including interviews, logistics and assistance for media visits and story production.
• Promote IGCP’s work through production and placement of news and feature stories in all media formats at the local, national and international level

5. Reporting

The Communication Officer shall report to the IGCP Director, who will be his/her line supervisor. He/she will report on a regular basis as the need arises, but specifically make monthly reports to the IGCP Director, and copy other relevant IGCP staff as needed.

6. Key Skills and Abilities

• Communications experience with knowledge of internet and website background preferable
• Fluent in English and good working knowledge of French (or vice versa)
• Excellent interpersonal skills
• Excellent writing and editing skills
• Media production skills in a variety of formats (internet, print, video)

7. Other Requirements

• Skills in computer management and administration
• Ability to work as part of a team
• Gender sensitivity
• Willingness to work long hours when required, occasionally over weekends
• A genuine interest in conservation issues
• Frequent field trips away from the station

The meeting seeks to not only share knowledge on climate change across the region between the diversity of organizations and government agencies focusing on mountain gorilla conservation, but also build adaption strategies into current and future mountain gorilla conservation efforts.  Climate change modeling results for the region will be integrated into discussions on gorilla health, regional socioeconomic issues, gorilla ecology and regional forest and biodiversity issues in the gorillas’ home range.

IGCP has already taken action on climate change in mountain gorilla habitat with an ongoing study in Virunga National Park in the Democratic Republic of Congo that focuses on gorilla foods and other plant life in the Mikeno sector of the Park, which approximately 200 gorillas call home.  The study will be expanded to gorilla ranges in Rwanda and Uganda in the coming years.

I have returned to Mikeno Volcano in Virunga National Park in the Democratic Republic of Congo today to walk another section of the transect: a line IGCP has cut in the forest on the volcano to study the impacts of climate change on gorilla habitat and the foods gorillas consume.  IGCP’s point person on conservation science, Dr. Augustin Basabose, has come along with me and the rangers to investigate this middle section of the seven kilometer long transect.  Dr. Basabose’s ambitious project will collect plant and tree data over a period of several years to help answer the question, “Is there a climate change impact on gorilla food distribution?”  The results will help IGCP and its partners form a more informed and robust response to current and future mountain gorilla conservation efforts.

But first, we have to get to the transect, and Mikeno’s riot of weeds, vines, trees and overgrown everything won’t make it easy.  We are relieved after a ranger confirms the trek to the transect is only thirty minutes and not three hours,  which is what we were originally told after arriving at the lonely looking patrol post.  As we set out, Augustin informs me the ranger teams collect data two times a month, and three teams do roughly two kilometers each of the transect.  I feel sorry for the team that does the upper third: at around 3,000 metres (9,842 feet) the air is thin, the chill  permanent, and the slope can often and abruptly turn almost vertical.  Tackling this mid-section today is enough. We will start behind a bump on the jagged Volcano’s slopes called Mashahi Hill.

Mikeno's jagged peak breaks through the ever present low clouds

As we reach the transect the first tagged tree we stumble towards is number A641, a Neo Butonia.  It’s crooked and ragged looking, like a lot of the trees in this difficult environment, but nevertheless looks perfect for rooting in this ragtag forest, and I wish I had taken more botany classes at university.

Up we climb, plunging into a tangled liana (vine) forest at 2,376 metres (7,800 feet).  It is dense, and its permanent shade reveals a dark undergrowth with still bursting morning dew that sparkles like delicate jewels polished to perfection.  The forest here is handsome in its almost mathematical precision: vines crisscross each other to produce an organic matrix of endless discoveries.  Occasionally, they don’t the follow matrix principles, and bend elegantly around the backs of the thin shafts of trees struggling to break out of the dense web.  I pick up what looks like tiny dried brown roses, a branch of wafer thin leaves grown in concentric circles.  “Dombeya,” Augustin concludes.  “It is very common here”.

Dew hangs on until late morning, adding a sparkle to the liana forest's residents

As we pull ourselves up another hill so steep I could swear it is laughing at us, Augustin mentions that a fresh gorilla nest was spotted by a researcher not too far from here.  The gorillas have stuck to the upper slopes of this section of Mikeno for awhile now.   During the recent conflict, the forest from the road that runs alongside the Park up to here was devastated by human incursions.  Villagers often camped here to escape the fighting, with rebel militias also a frequent presence to exploit the natural resources and take cover from other militias and the Congolese Army.  With peace holding for over a year now, the hope is that the gorillas will populate this sector again, bringing other species with them.  They surely will have enough food: we spy plenty of their favorites, such as nettles and wild celery.

My ears begin to pop as we climb higher, the dense understory of the forest opening up to reveal rolling wave after wave of crisp green stems and leaves.  We spot the first Hagenia, a tall tree with branches like umbrella spindles that sprout small elongated oval leaves.  Here the moss appears, hanging delicately from the branches in crumbly strands of pale light green.  We don’t find any gorilla nests, but a rustling in the canopy interrupts the now constant thunder rumbling overhead, and I see a lone Golden Monkey skip across a long tree limb, with its illuminated brown body and mop-like head of hair.  “The Hagenia is coming down to a really low elevation here,” says Augustin regarding this high mountain species, and with that, the skies open up.

The Golden Monkey, an ubiquitous presence in this part of the Virungas

The trek back down is more akin to downhill skiing on the rivers of mud that have now replaced the narrow dirt path, but by the time we make it down to the patrol post, the sun and smiling kids have come out again.  It is always humbling to walk in the shadow of the gorillas, and breathe in the unparalleled beauty of the Virunga Volcanoes.  It would be a tragedy from which our species would likely never recover if our own footprint on this earth destroyed this experience.

IGCP is not hesitating to take action, combining the integrity of science-based research and the fierce dedication of conservation professionals to counter any negative impacts of climate change on both human and gorilla communities in this small slice of luminous nature.  We don’t yet know what we will find, and countering any negative impacts will be a difficult challenge that will take time and even fiercer dedication.  But I know this organization is up for it, and I hope to come back in five, ten or twenty years time to walk again in the shadow of even more gorillas and wonder at the beauty of even thicker Hagenia forests.  If, of course, these bad knees of mine can still tackle vertical Virunga….

The critically endangered mountain gorilla’s current status is to be revealed through a census to determine its population size in the Virunga Volcanoes area that straddles the borders of the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC), Rwanda and Uganda in Eastern and Central Africa.  The Virunga Volcanoes is one of only two locations where mountain gorillas live, whose total numbers are currently estimated at 680 individuals.  Though the area is now relatively calm, recent conflict in the Mikeno sector of Virunga National Park in the DRC has left the gorillas there vulnerable. The last Virunga Volcanoes census in 2003 resulted in an estimate of 380 individuals, with the remaining individuals living in Bwindi Impenetrable National Park Uganda. The Wildlife and National Park Authorities of Uganda, Rwanda and the DRC will collaborate on the census, which is planned for March and April 2010.

The census is an opportunity to make an accurate count of the total gorilla population in the Virunga Volcanoes.  Fecal samples will also be collected for genetic analysis to confirm the population size and for better understanding the genetic variability and health status of the population.  Such monitoring is vitally important in understanding the long-term viability and measuring the effects of the recent history of conflict in the region on such a small population of critically endangered animals.  IGCP Director Eugene Rutagarama stated, “The Gorilla census is an exercise enabling us to assess the impact of conservation efforts carried out by all gorilla conservation stakeholders. As the main coordinator, the International Gorilla Conservation Programme is hoping that this census will confirm a continuous increase of the mountain gorilla population and guide us on how we can further contribute to the growth of this still endangered population.”

Launching on March 1^st, the census will involve 80 team members.  Team members, which will be drawn from the staff of the various protected area (National Park) authorities and their partners, will traverse the entire Virunga gorilla habitat range over a period of approximately eight weeks.

The census is being carried out by the Rwanda Development Board/ Tourism and Conservation, the Congolese Wildlife Authority and the Uganda Wildlife Authority.  The exercise will be supported by the International Gorilla Conservation Programme (a coalition of AWF, WWF and FFI), the Dian Fossey Gorilla Fund International, the Mountain Gorilla Veterinary Project, and the Max Planck Institute for Evolutionary Anthropology.  Results will be vital in looking at population trends and determining the best collaborative way forward for mountain gorilla conservation.

Goma's bustling city center

My mission today is to take a look at the new building IGCP helped construct at the Bukima Ranger Post in the Park.  Bukima is a windswept field of flowers high in the hills which run up to Mikeno Volcano.  Its views are without equal, and it also serves as the starting point for tracking two gorilla families: the compact Humba and much larger populated Kabirizi.  Though difficult to reach, Bukima is hoping to attract more visitors since gorilla tourism re-opened in the Park in May of last year.  A new building may admittedly be a mundane aside to many, but for IGCP and the Park it is a living representation of progress: the fact we were even able to complete such a project a little more than a year after the land it stands on and the people who lived nearby was being scarred on a daily basis by rebel troops who had overrun the area, is part small miracle and a giant heaping of dedication, passion and hard work.

I can see the results of this tenacious ability to bounce back and move on before I even make it to Bukima.  As we pass the spewing cone of still active Nyirgongo Volcano I count zero plumes of smoke rising lazily from its forested slopes.  A year ago, during my first pass here there were many – rebel campgrounds or perhaps illegal charcoal burning operations.  On my second pass there were fewer.  By last November there was less than handful.   “It’s because of Emmanuel’s (Virunga NP Chief Warden) dedicated patrols”, the driver Jerome instinctively answers before I am even able to blurt out my question.  There were times when the Park Service seemed down for the count, such as when rebel soldiers ran roughshod over Park headquarters at Rumangabo in late 2008, capturing it and forcing many to flee into the forests with only the clothes on their backs.  But unyielding support from IGCP and others, along with a strong new Chief Warden, has enabled the ranger corps to not only regroup, but thrive.

I see more evidence of this progress as we sputter towards Bukima on an impossible road.  Here, at a sharp corner that three months ago only contained weed choked grass, a new school has risen, its fresh gray concrete anchoring firmly into the deep brown earth.  Spindly stalks of the household staple sorghum, with their bushy moptops of pink and reddish berries, sway in the breeze, ripe for harvest.  Healthy kids are everywhere, smiling but coy as they shout out requests for used water bottles and thrust their thumbs up with the cry “Jambo!” (Hello!).

The new Bukima school near completion

By the time we reach the ranger post, gray clouds have settled into a permanent frown in the milky sky.  The building, with its bright red painted doors, breaks up the opacity, jutting out into the valley below perched on a small ridge directly facing the approach road.  Yes, a building is a building, but one look at the thrown together clapboard shack the rangers have been using as their main barracks and office, and its importance becomes even more obvious.  Good infrastructure, and the amenable work spaces that go with it, is the vital foundation to all the hard work that surrounds it.  In the case of Virunga National Park, just establishing a permanent presence on ground once rife with conflict is huge step forward for gorilla and park conservation, as well as the communities.  Martin Kazarezi, the ranger in charge today, seconds my thoughts.  “We are very happy to see this new building.  It is stable and will last a long time….perhaps a hundred years or more!”

The ranger post building may be mixed use, serving as both Park offices and housing

I take a short walk to the campsite, and realize that in the stillness of this high mountain hamlet, life, as in Goma, is everywhere.  Thousands of delicate white flowers blown off their stems twinkle the rough earth at my feet, like pocket stars gathering for a feast of bright light.  A step into the tall sharp grass reveals the tiniest of grasshoppers, bright yellow and not bigger than a thumbnail, clinging to the whistling glades.  The clipped musical chirps of the black and white pied wagtail, a common bird in the area, drift on the rings of the steadily swirling wind.

For me this is landscape of no equal, where the wildflowers truly run wild and the volcanoes’ rocky tops break through their densely forested peaks to grasp at the ever present clouds.  But to the gorillas, the rangers and the local families, this is simply “home”.  Working with these residents to establish peace and prosperity – a permanent presence – here through building and other projects is the most important work we can undertake in keeping this special place wild and growing.  Moving forward, as it should be.

Stephen, our guide, tells us the story of the Batwa people before clapping his hands loudly and bowing down to the muddy earth on this overgrown path perched on the side of the mighty Murhavura volcano: a king had three sons who were brothers and put them in a shelter one night, all with a container of milk.  The first drank the milk and spilled the rest while sleeping.  The next drank the milk but did not spill it.  The third had the patience not only to not drink the milk and not spill it, but to stay up all night and guard for any dangers or spirits that might float in and do harm to his family and the community.  The third brother had discipline, will and talent: he was trusted to lead his people out into the forest, and his offspring became the Batwa.

Stephen’s hand clapping and bowing was a simple request to God to keep the family back at home safe while we entered the wild unknown.  These days, the two volcanoes that make up Mgahinga Gorilla National Park, Murhavura, a jutting sloped mass akin to a massive ocean wave on the verge of toppling over, and Gahinga, its flat-topped pipelike sister, are still wild, but better known.  Gorillas families often plied the slopes of these two rugged masses crowding Uganda’s border with Rwanda, but lately better “salad bowls” in Rwanda and the Congo have left the Park without a main revenue driver.  I find out, however, that one family suddenly reappeared again a couple of months ago, bringing new hope and tourists, but the densely populated human communities ringing the Park are still in need of alternative income sources to supplement their subsistence farming.

This walk through Batwa history and tradition is one solution.  IGCP is tapping the intimate knowledge of the forest and its rhythms from the local Batwa to take a visitors on a fascinating trek, walking in the footsteps of environmental harmony passed on through generations to experience up close the sights, sounds, smells, touches, tastes, and challenges of living in this rainy biodiversity cornucopia tumbling down the cool slopes of these once active monuments to earth’s fury.  We turn a corner and place both hands on a rock protruding into our path.  Touch and bow: the conclusion of Stephen’s earlier prayer for safety in the forest and back home.   “In the forest now I cannot survive,” Stephen admits to me.  “I was born outside, but it is still better that we stay in one place.  The Batwa from Rwanda and Congo are still moving all the time.”

The Park's myriad of delicate and tiny flower species come in all colors, including bright pink

As we move deeper into the bush, the small wonders start to reveal themselves: a cluster of flowers with tiny star-like petals so bright pink I consider pulling out my sunglasses to soften their glow.  A green and white plant sprouting from the ground in long elegant ribbons, like the legs of a well-fed (and large!) spider.  It’s called Imbata bata locally, I am told, which means “sitting down”.  It is a tuber, and the root is particular favorite of gorillas.  There are the delicate tart red berries of the Umutegengeri, plant, eaten for energy, and the Umufumba, another eatable meaning “ready meal” whose young grasshopper green shoots are extremely tart, I immediately discover with a single tiny bite.

Then there is the….metal pipe?  I almost trip on what I think is a vine.  The pipe is courtesy of a European organization that taps water at the top of the volcano and brings it to the thirsty communities below.  Stephen mentions water was originally carried in bamboo pipes, but even in Murhavura’s bountiful buffet of wild sustenance, this modern intrusion is appreciated.  Communities directly below us on the Park’s margins have historically had many problems finding clean water sources.

A single bite of the traditional Batwa forest food Umufumba provides a uniquely tart experience

As we climb into the saddle between Murhavura and Gahinga, we walk in increasingly larger Batwa shoes.  We go through the myriad of medicinal plants the forest provides, with a new discovery around every corner.  At a traditional Batwa dwelling, a cone shaped hut made of grasses, mud and sticks no larger than a kitchen table, the guides fight over the best bits of “meat” from the hunt in a display of times past while I learn that salt was extracted from the drained ash of a dying fire.  The hunt for wild buffalo, as well as a honey harvesting demonstration, is carried out in a hollow of long grass, glistening with the pearls of raindrops after a typically fierce afternoon shower drenches us to the bone, making a mockery of our hastily thrown on raingear.   Elephants, bush pigs, duikers (small antelopes) and giant forest hogs were hunted here as well.

This tiny traditional Batwa dwelling often provided shelter for an entire family

As the afternoon light fights its way through the thick clouds, dropping slivers of sunshine through the tree canopy, we cross the bottom reaches of Gahinga while the bumpy peaks of Sabyinyo Volcano, in Rwanda, come into view.  Flowers thrust their rainbow of petals into the pathway.  We descend to a scrubby part of the Park, where we find Garama Cave.  Many Batwa made their home in this non-descript hole hidden in a field of long grass, and I am surprised that the tunnel is so extensive, our lights getting lost in a seemingly endless passageway.

After a couple of hundred meters the lights suddenly go out.  The black is so overwhelming that I cannot see my hand held up directly in front of me.  Suddenly, a voice cuts through the stillness, followed by another, and another.  Soon, in complete darkness there is a rising chorus, which washes over me from left and right, note perfect and beautiful.  The focus on one sense, hearing, is intense and rich when the others are suddenly handicapped.  The community is here, rhythmically swaying in the dimness with a song remembering their forest life and what they left behind.  I make out shadows of brightly colored cloth piercing the permanent night as the lights are switched back on. My own chorus!  Floating up and around me with boundless joy for the past and hope in togetherness for a bright future.

The gorgeously expansive view of Southwestern Uganda from the volcanoes' lower reaches

This stunning surprise is the highlight of a day long journey of discovery: a walk in nature’s overgrown garden where knowledge and culture hold as strong as the spidery lmbata bata plant, rooting deep into Mgahinga’s rich volcanic soil.   After we emerge from the cave, an expansive view of the carpeted green hills and clusters of shiny roofed villages in what seems like the entirety of Southwestern Uganda is spread in light life soft butter before us.  It might be the most resplendent view I’ve ever experienced, and I have to remind myself that I am a mere visitor, and this Batwa domain, as beautiful as it is, still provides plenty of challenges for its full time residents.  Their interaction with the Park, sustainable development, and the fostering of harmony between humans and the environment will continue to inform and challenge life on these slopes and in these valleys.  The Batwa walk is only one solution IGCP is helping to implement in this often neglected patch of lushness, but a promising one that is in turn beautiful, informative and surprising.  One which I hope I am the first of many to experience, bringing benefits to all.

Just as we pass Kahurire and its early morning chorus of chattering children, our guide Herbert comes to a complete halt.  There is movement in the valley just west of the village – something romping through the long golden grass that flows in all directions from the wall of trees on the edge of Bwindi Impenetrable National Park.  It’s low to the ground and dense.  Herbert hands me the binoculars.  The Nkuringo gorilla group has decided on a jaunt outside of Bwindi today, and I spot Park rangers in their everyday green fatigues coaxing them back: out of the community’s bean fields and back into Bwindi’s dense sanctuary.  Today the rangers are on the spot, but when gorillas leave the forest they often encounter community members.  Here, the HUGO (Human Gorilla Conflict) team, an IGCP assisted project springs into action using their extensive training to encourage the gorillas to re-enter the forest.

When we finally reach the gullies beyond the bean fields (gorillas do not actually like the bean plants for food and leave them alone, the rangers tell me) the family has scattered, but still has time to be cheeky: the newly silvered silverback Bahati, who has graduated from blackback status the last time I saw him, still plays the rebellious teenager and starts chasing us through the rustling ferns, which have turned reddish-brown under the high country sun.   After one or two bluffs, he settles into a spot near some tasty trees and ignores us, deciding a snack is more important than making this pale ape tumble backwards down the almost vertical slopes.

Bahati decides that a snack on his belly is more important than chasing us through the ferns

As Bahati tucks beneath the vegetation, Kwitonda emerges on the knob above us with her two fuzzy and precious packages clinging tightly to her back: the brother and sister twins Karunge and Muhozi, who were born just over a year ago.  Gorilla twins are rare. Rarer yet is both surviving past their first year.  Muhozi and Kaurunge both look healthy to these untrained eyes, and the rangers inform me they are doing just fine.

Brother and sister twins Karunge and Muhozi cling tightly to mom's back

There is rustling all around us and we follow Kwitonda up the hill, but it is hard to spot anything in the wall of ferns and grass.  As we double around and pass above the lounging Bahati we get lucky: there is Mama Christmas with her tiny two week-old baby, which she is vigilantly sheltering under her arm beneath her breast.  My mission today was to get photos of the newborn, but I am no match for a protective mother: I can only get a few fleeting glances and blurry snaps before she whisks the fragile youngster through some dense brush and out of site.

The best glimpse I could get of very protective mom Mama Christmas and her two week old bundle of joy

I have to content myself with Rafiki (“Friend”), the mellow silverback with the massive head who has perched himself on another impossibly steep hill and is stuffing his mouth with leaves and young shoots, occasionally closing his eyes in a sleepy haze like a sports fan with a protruding belly on the sofa drifting into a nap after a long day of overdosing on football and food.    We keep him company during the voracious munching, and blissfully content in his food wonderland, he doesn’t stir as we retreat for the muscle taxing hike back up the ridge, which by now is sticky hot with late morning sun.

Rafiki only gives us a passing glance during his morning feast

The Nkuringo family has increased from 18 to 20 members since my last visit.  They are healthy, safe and content, and their progress seems inextricably linked to that of their human neighbors in and around Nkuringo Village.  Later, I have a nice chat with Gervase Tumwebaze, the ebullient Head of the Nkuringo Community Development Foundation, the local organization partnered with IGCP and Clouds Mountain Gorilla Lodge that turns the benefits from gorilla tourism into development benefits for an increasing number of households in the area.  Gervase mentions current projects: a water extension project for a village, Nyabaremura, which had no source, pig and cow distribution which places the animals’ offspring back into the community’s needy families, school fee support for local nursing students, conservation of pocket forests outside of the National Park, development of school gardens.

Benefitting from NCDF: Simeo and his cow

Walking through the village I meet up with Simeo, who has benefited from the cow project.  He points to his cow’s young calf, which bounces around his pasture below the village.  When the calf is old enough, it will go to another local family in need, and Simeo will get to keep his cow, which will produce milk for his family and for sale, as well as additional calves.  “The benefits go to both my family and others in the area,” states Simeo, proudly showing off a living benefit of NCDF’s work that has already had a positive impact on the families of this remote mountain hamlet stashed between the impenetrable green of Bwindi Forest and the vast expanse of the Virunga Volcano chain.  It’s a rare site, and rare treat, indeed, to witness the progress of so many families, human and hairy.

The Standard will bring you the latest happenings and updates from IGCP’s diverse and dynamic work in the National Parks and communities which the gorillas and their human neighbors call home.  For the premier issue, coverage begins with IGCP’s mountain gorilla awareness efforts for the UN declared “Year of the Gorilla” in 2009.  Inside are reports on IGCP’s call to action after the break out of a rare national park fire, project reports on a new cultural center launch and successful completion of a Park safety wall tackling the burgeoning problem of human-animal conflict, as well as a first look at IGCP’s groundbreaking initiative on mountain gorillas and climate change.  This issue’s staff profile reveals IGCP Director Eugene Rutagarama’s deep commitment to our hairy cousins and biodiversity conservation, while the regular feature Gorilla Tracks answers the question, “what makes mountain gorillas different from other gorilla subspecies?”

The Silverback Standard will be first for covering silverbacks, like Safari, seen here in Bwindi Impenetrable National Park, Uganda

The Silverback Standard, unlike its massive muscled namesake, is a modest animal, featured a selection of our brightest highlights from our current work in a four page bi-annual format.  With your support and feedback, we hope to graduate to chest thumping on a quarterly basis with added pages and features, so please be sure to send us your comments.

Happy Reading!  We hope you will enjoy The Silverback Standard, and will share it with your family, friends and colleagues.  You can download a full electronic copy by clicking on the two links here:

Issue 1 newsletter - Autumn 2009 front back.pdf

Issue 1 newsletter - Autumn 2009 inside.pdf

Finally a break.  We struggle through a spongy carpet of wildflowers and plants that can prick the skin even through two layers of clothing.  But at least it is flat.  Another pile of dung, and our ranger and guide Phillip declares, “they are close”.  No sooner do I pull out my camera when I hear a rustling.  I look up and it’s a juvenile in a tree, stretching backward on the branches and hanging on for dear life, as if he or she were an acrobat high in the air completing a trick particularly precarious in its technicality.  We have found the family Kabirizi.

A juvenile greets us by showing off precise acrobatic skills

Earlier, as I looked up to the massive pointy pyramid that is Mikeno Volcano, I could barely make out the peak, with the thick gray clouds that enveloped it refusing to budge.  I spent a cold, rainy night in a small green tent at Bukima, the nearby ranger station.  At 1 AM a small animal scratching the tent’s outside wall woke me up, but I was not about to let in my visitor.  The rain was icy, and my coffin of a sleeping bag was too cozy to wriggle out of.  I woke up in the chilly wet air praying the clouds, still ominous with bellyfuls of liquid, would take a break and spare our uphill trek.  So far, so good: a few slivers of sun have now broken through the dense gray wall.

With peace growing as fast as the local crops of corn, beans, cabbage and potatoes sprouting from the rich volcanic soil surrounding Virunga National Park here in the Eastern Democratic Republic of Congo, both gorilla and human communities are thriving.  Yesterday, as we negotiated mud and porous volcanic rock on the skinny road up to Bukima, IGCP DRC Programme Driver Jerome beamed, “look at these kids!  They are healthy and happy.  They go to school now.”  Just a year before, he reminded me, a rebel army had paraded through this swathe of fertile land and compact villages, destroying everything but the bamboo groves.  “Before there was nothing here, now there are potatoes, corn, beans….people can farm again and everyone is fed.”  The dividends of peace are clearly visible.

The Kabirizi family is no doubt benefiting from these dividends as well.  They must be healthy and well-fed, I am thinking, because after waking in the Volcano’s eerie early morning mist, they had the energy to climb several near vertical hills that just about knocked out this skinny, hairless ape (with bad knees).  And they are still bubbling with that energy: we have to fend off a juvenile and the female sub-adult Masibo, who keep circling around in the brush, attempting to outwit us in a game of hide and seek.  We dutifully don our face masks – so as to not pass any illnesses on – and keep the requisite distance of seven meters (about 21 feet), though it is challenge with their constant cat and mouse movement.

Just like kids everywhere: my camera gets a tongue greeting from this cheeky youngster

Where is Kabirizi, the 35 strong family’s head of the household and lone silverback?  After 30 minutes we finally spot him, lazing under a stand of bamboo, not even giving us a passing glance.  His family is safe, well-fed and full of energy, their “salad bowl” home an island of copious buffets and endless playgrounds.  While Kabirizi lounges, the juveniles climb and tumble their way through the dense ground cover, as a couple of massive blackbacks (teenage males growing into silverback status) follow Kabirizi’s lead and lie down on their bellies, grunting contentedly.

It is an almost poignant photograph of peace in a wild land boundless with beauty.  I have to keep reminding myself that it wasn’t always like this, and there are still a myriad of threats to this peaceable kingdom: climate change, the out of control illegal charcoal trade, war remnants which could explode again at any time.  We have to remain vigilant.  And as soon as I complete the thought, a broad boulder of black fur, the blackback my guides identify as Bageni, seems to underscore the “vigilant” part of the equation, snapping bamboo poles like matchsticks while charging towards us.  With a head the size of a small refrigerator and legs akin to concrete and steel bridge pilings, his muscled mass is impressive, and frightening when galloping directly towards you with increasing speed.

Bageni "playing" by waiting to spring out at us from his leafy hiding spot

“He just wants to play”, laugh the guides.  Yes, I am sure that is the case, but after many visits to Bageni’s kin throughout their mountainous home, I still have not gotten used to playing tag with muscled furry boulders four times my size.  Bageni stops, and then disappears into the brush, no doubt searching for a path to double back around us for another sneak attack.  We leave him and his family peering through the forest’s brilliant green curtain, as they return to munching, lounging and tumbling their way through another paradisiacal day in the salad bowl.

As we slide our way downhill, an icy mist quickly swallows the mountain, arctic-like in its opacity.  Soon we are enveloped in a ghostly fog.  Bright pink Impatience flowers poke out of the murkiness, demanding to be noticed while I strain to make out the soft outlines of moss dripping from the umbrella branches of the Munyaga, a local tree with rough, craggy bark and tiny, spindly leaves.  I step over more wild celery as we exit the Park.  The clouds seem to have timed their opening to our visit:  slashing wintry rain and swirling winds roll onto Mikeno’s slopes five minutes after we arrive at the Bukima station shelter.

Ghostly fog swallows the mountain on our return journey, turning each downward step into a slippery challenge

It is, of course, part of nature’s regular cycle here, and with rain comes renewal, and growth.  I feel inordinately privileged to witness the renewal and growth of the Park and the Eastern DRC after the ceasing of hostilities here less than a year ago.  Peace is not guaranteed, of course, but today I was humbled to see a family of 35 on the Volcano thriving from it, as with the numerous families in compact villages on its again bountiful slopes I met yesterday.  The Kabirizi family’s shelter was different than mine – maybe a dense grove of bamboo or an old sturdy tree – but I was certain they were content too, bundled up while waiting for the rain to provide its nourishment, the renewal of the day.