In 1998, I left Italy and set off for the heart of Africa to the Congo

In 1998, I left Italy and set off for the heart of Africa to the Congo Basin. The focus of my quest, lowland gorillas. My name is Chloe Cipoletta. I'm a primatologist. My ambition has always been to work in gorilla country. I shall always remember those shadowy figures moving behind a curtain of leaves and the intense searching looks they gave me. I shall never forget my encounters with these peaceful giants of the equatorial forests. Today, these gorillas are slowly but surely disappearing. If nothing is done to protect them, deforestation, hunting, and poaching will one day prove to be fatal. I lived at the end of this trail in the heart of the Central African Republic on the ancestral lands of the Aka pygmies. The pygmies' way of life has changed dramatically in recent years. Hoping to improve their living conditions, they have left their traditional forest homes and settled along the road, leading to the village of Bai Hokou, where that Dzanga-Sangha Primate Habituation Research Camp was based. I had already spent two years observing gorillas in other Central African country. I have always been fascinated by these creatures. My mission here in Dzanga-Sangha National Park was to study the gorillas' behavior and develop an Eco-Tourism, Gorilla Watching Project. In order to do this, a group of gorillas first have to be accustomed to the presence of humans. Not an easy job, as these animals are fierce and aggressive and not easy to approach. Finding the right group would require a good deal of endurance and determination. How could they be found in such a vast forest and who could help me? The solution was, in fact, obvious and right before my eyes. A number of Aka pygmy families still spent a good deal of time in the forest. For them it was a magic place, which held no secrets. It is said that the Akas can follow an animal's trail based on a single upturned leaf or a barely visible broken branch. And they can instantly recognize every sound that echoes through the forest. Little by little, I managed to win their trust. I spent time with the women and children. I convinced them it was possible to accustom the gorillas to the presence of humans. After a few months, the group's finest hunters led by Mubanda and Mukungu agreed to act as my guides in the forest. Before long, we were setting out together on the gorillas' trail. As I had expected, it was very hard going. The heat in the forest was stifling. There was no trail, not the vaguest path. We had to fight our way through a tangled mesh of branches and vines assailed on all sides by razor sharp leaves. Gorilla tracks are very hard to detect, as the ground is covered by a thick layer of dried leaves. But after a few days, the tracker spotted the first signs of the gorillas' presence. How could we interpret them? How could we know how many gorillas there were or which way they were heading? These hairs belonged to a silverback gorilla, a big male. During the dry season, the gorillas sleep on the ground, one of them has spent the night here not long ago. The gorillas were not far away. We had to be as quiet as possible. I was immediately impressed by the way the gorillas watched us. Even though we kept our distance, I was still expecting some kind of fearful reaction, cries or abrupt movements. One of the gorillas was more intimidating than the others. It was a male, a silverback. He must have been almost six feet tall and weighed at least 440 pounds. Exactly how many gorillas were there? It was difficult to tell through the leaves and branches. Most lowland gorillas live in groups of seven to nine, with one male, several females and youngsters. Was this a family? Their sudden departure did not worry me, I was sure this sighting would be the first of many. At last I had found the group I was looking for. One I could study over several years, as long as I could follow them regularly. I immediately went to see my friend David Greer. David is a primatologist too and coordinates surveillance operations in the Dzanga-Sangha Park. He heads a group of about 30 environmental guards that he himself has trained to combat poaching. We needed to provide effective protection for the forest area where the gorilla group was living. After following their various routes and movements, we had worked out the limits of their territory. But I was concerned about the many poachers who were operating in the area. I couldn't risk losing the gorillas just at the moment we were starting to get them used to our presence. Lowland gorillas move around a great deal within their territory, covering up to 5 kilometers a day. To follow our group, we sometimes had to go deep into the forest several hours walk from the base camp. To get the gorillas used to us quickly, we would always indicate our presence by clicking our tongues. Habituation requires following the gorillas day after day and being seen and heard. It was a slow and delicate process and demanded great patience. With repeated encounters, the gorillas gradually learned that we were harmless and accepted our presence. At first, contacts were brief and observation periods limited. But the gorillas would occasionally leave the safety of the forest. They came out in search of mineral-rich plants. Watching them, I realized I was looking at a real family. There were 12 of them altogether. The most noticeable was clearly the silverback male. The silver coat distinguishes a male that has reached *** maturity from the younger males and the females. It was not immediately easy to determine his age. There were also four mature females and some recently weaned youngsters about two years old. All of them were silverback's offspring. The male kept a watchful eye on everything, on his own family as much as on us. Suddenly his behavior changed, like a sheepdog herding its flock, he began barking. Clearly, he was anxious about being out in the open. He began patrolling the edge of the forest, urging the group to head back into the trees. It wasn't happening as quickly as he would have liked. In order to impose his authority, a silverback will charge or scream or pound his chest. These demonstrations of strength help to prevent the family dispersing and guarantee its cohesion. Whether the group is moving, eating or resting, the silverback watches over each and every member at all times. The gorilla's performance has a profound effect on us that day. As we followed the group, without realizing it, we had moved too close to a female and her baby. The silverbacks charge awakened the pygmies' ancestral fears. After the defensive attacks, the pygmies couldn't understand why we should get so close. Just taking me there was enough for them, old memories were once more surfacing. A few years previously, the oldest of the trackers, Bala Nunya had been attacked by two gorillas. The memory of that harrowing incident was very much in his mind. The silverback was holding onto my leg and biting me. I was lying on the ground fighting with all my strength to try and get away from him, but he wouldn't give up. He continued to beat me and to bite my arms and legs. My wife had run off to hide. He went on hitting me and screaming. At one point, he stepped back and then he jumped on me again. The gorilla finally bit off a piece of Bala Nunya's scalp before disappearing into the forest. I would often go to a clearing close to the camp at dawn to sit down and think things over. The Dzanga-Sangha National Park is one of the last truly intact forests in the Congo Basin. It is a refuge and a haven for a good many species of animals. Like elephants, sitatungas and buffaloes, these great apes are the last representatives of an endangered species. Following the gorillas every day and getting them used to our presence was the best way of protecting this sanctuary, even if we were increasing the risk of transmitting diseases. We therefore set off once more on the gorillas' trail, despite Macumba's aggressiveness. Macumba was the name the pygmies gave to the silverback. In the Aka language, it means rapid. The name suited him, as his charges or retreats were impressively swift. We scout the forest every day trying to locate him and his family. But our encounters were sadly brief, the gorillas fled whenever we approached. Over the following weeks however, Macumba adopted a new attitude towards us. The trackers remain skeptical, but the silverback seemed to be indifferent to our presence. He could hear us and smell us but showed no sign of hostility. The fear and aggression phases were over. After four years, we had attained our first objective: being accepted by Macumba. Lowland gorillas have been studied far less than their cousins, who live in the mountains of Rwanda. The great difficulties in following and habituating them means we know very little about their way of life. Lowland gorillas have been the subject to very few scientific studies. Macumba seemed to have forgotten we were there. He was opening up the gates to his private world. Everything however could still fall apart. The gorilla family might split up one day as a result of internal quarreling or the arrival of a new dominant male. We have to be cautious. Even if it adopts a peaceful attitude, a silverback is still a wild and unpredictable animal. Day after day, we spent many long hours observing the gorillas in the forest. The normally fearful females also accepted us. The younger males even displayed a certain curiosity. After a few weeks, we were able to approach the gorillas sufficiently close to identify them individually. On occasion, at dawn, we would witness a few intimate scenes. We would surprise them as they were waking up. The gorillas sleep for about 12 hours a night. They rise between 6.00 and 6:30, sometimes much later if it is raining. Each gorilla makes its own nest each night in a different place. After drinking, the gorilla starts searching for food. The signal would always be given by Macumba. Gathering food takes up most of their day and is interrupted only by a brief snooze later in the morning. Gorillas eat a wide variety of plants and vegetable matter, leaves, fruit, roots, bark, the forest offers plenty of choice. And yet, the gorillas pick out their food with detailed care and attention. To find the juiciest fruit, the gorillas will travel long distances. This behavior indicates that they choose their food more for its nutritional value than taste. One day I saw Kunga, one of the younger gorillas eating termites for the first time. These insects are an important source of protein, previously underestimated in studies of the gorillas' eating habits. It is the only exception to their herbivorous diet. Unlike chimpanzees and bonobos, the gorillas don't need to use tools to reach the termites. They have enough strength to break into the mound. The gorillas eating habits vary with the seasons. In the rainy season, they eat a lot of fruit and grass. During the dry season, they eat almost exclusively leaves, picking them directly from the treetops. Despite his hefty weight, Macumba can quite easily climb up to a height of 120 feet. High in the trees, the gorillas are even more selective about their food than on the ground. But it is likely that some of the leaves they eat have no nutritional value whatsoever. Healers and women have long known about the medicinal benefits and values of the forest plants. Some of them can relieve coughs, fever or dental pain, others can heal skin infections. Did the gorillas too use the plants to alleviate certain ailments? It appeared that the gorillas have an excellent understanding of their natural habitat. They never eat something by chance. Among the 100 or so species of plants and leaves they consume, a good number are also probably used in the forest people's traditional medicine. In order to find out more about the gorillas' eating habits, we decided to study their droppings, the weight, volume, color and composition. Flavien my assistant would carefully examine each treasure looking for the slightest clue. When the gorillas eat fruit, they swallow the pulp and the seeds, which can then be found whole in their droppings. We discovered that they ate about 150 different types of fruit. Their long daily journeys and slow digestion enable the seeds to be dispersed far from the original tree. This way of dispersing seeds means that the gorillas play an important role in regenerating the forest. Now I could fully appreciate the interdependence of the forest and its inhabitants. The animals need the forest to live, to eat and to reproduce and the forest needs them to regenerate itself. One morning a few weeks later, Flavien noticed that all the elephants had deserted the clearing close to the camp. On the edge of the forest, the ground was covered with human footprints. But we were the only people authorized to be in the sanctuary. Flavien and the trackers followed the footprints which led straight to the zone where Macumba and his family were living. There was no sign of the gorillas, neither in the trees nor on the ground. The conclusion was obvious, poachers were following our group. Flavien hoped it was not too late. But alone with the three trackers, it was too dangerous to continue the search. Mubanda immediately alerted the rangers in Bayanga. For several years, poaching has wreaked havoc in the Dzanga-Sangha National Park. David Greer, the head of the anti-poaching campaign knew he had to act as quickly as possible. The gorillas were now used to humans and were vulnerable. They could not distinguish between observers and poachers and were therefore easy prey. David's men regularly patrol the park on the lookout for poachers. Gorilla hunting has always existed in this region, and every day David was witness to the damage that poaching can cause. A gorilla caught in this terrible steel snare would die in appalling pain. The most powerful males can sometimes escape at the cost of a hand or a limb, but the females and youngsters have no chance at all. How many snares have the rangers already destroyed? The poachers lay out hundreds of them in the forest trying to increase their chances of catching something. Had Macumba and his family fallen victim to the poachers' traps? The very next day, once the area had been cleared of snares, we set out to find them. The poachers could still be hiding in the forest. I had to find the group as quickly as possible. We spotted them a few hours later. Macumba was very tense. It was a clear warning. A few days later it began to rain. The timing was fortuitous. During the rainy season, working in the forest is harder than ever and the gorillas appear only rarely. They would be safe for a few weeks at least. As soon as the rains were over, we began searching again. The trees that year produced a lush crop of fruit, manna for the mangabeys. We began by exploring the area where we had left the troop. The trackers soon identified some gorilla tracks. Did they belong to Macumba and his family? Little by little, we advanced along the trail. The young male's figure was familiar, but at this distance, it was not easy to identify him. When he moved closer to the river, I recognized Macumba at once, but would he accept us again? I was delighted to consult my old notebook again. We had found the group and our work could finally continue. Even Mangi, the wariest of the females, showed no concern about us. Her baby had grown. Miu was still just as greedy and curious. And little Silu was beginning to develop his own character. He had the makings of a future silverback. The family had even had one more baby. It was always hard to tell if a female is pregnant as her stomach is very swollen even in normal circumstances. I had not noticed anything. Mapandi's baby was no more than 4 weeks old. Macumba was now the proud father of 8 children. After our reunion, we once again began following the gorillas every day. Working in the rainy season is extremely tiring. The temperature is often more than 30 degrees, but unfortunately, the heat and the maze of tangled vines are not the only torments in the forest. But never mind the flies, as I watched the gorillas swatting and scratching just like us, I couldn't help feeling we were all part of the same family. After 4 years of working alongside Macumba and his family every day, the group was now used to us and ready to be observed by other visitors. Their arrival had to be prepared. Flavien took over on the ground. Every morning, he would set off into the forest with the trackers to continue observing the gorillas' behavior. On that day, I don't think my presence would have changed anything. The screams were not a good sign. The gorillas had to be found quickly to understand what was going on. Mugumba was worried. First there were the drops of blood, then Macumba wandering around moaning and the silence increasingly heavy and oppressive. The gorillas were all lying on the ground, huddled together, perfectly still, just a few meters from the corpse. It was a young male. Mugumba tried to explain as calmly as possible what he had seen and heard. The young gorilla's cries, then a female in the trees. Macumba barking on the ground, the traces of blood and the discovery of the dead body. Our presence was clearly upsetting Macumba, we couldn't get close to the body. I was too far away to recognize the victim. But when I saw Kunga's distress, I realized it was Mapope, his younger brother who was dead. He was barely 2 years old. Kunga touched the body as if trying to wake it up. Mopopata couldn't bear to abandon her baby. She carried it around hugging the body, followed by the other members of the family staying close by. Much later in the day, the gorillas finally left leaving the dead body behind. In order to understand the circumstances of the tragedy, I had to examine Mapope's body. We were taking a risk. Mapope could well have contracted an infectious disease. Ebola was present in various places in the Congo. Less then 300 kilometers away, Ebola had decimated the gorilla population two years previously. The human fatality rate resulting from exposure to this terrible virus is more than 90 percent and we have no form of protection. The body showed no signs of any discharges or hemorrhage, but Mapope's ribcage was crushed, clearly the result of a fall. There were also two holes clearly visible in his upper back, where pieces of wood were sticking out. He must've been impaled as he fell. I could only think of one explanation. Mapope must have momentarily slipped away from his mother's watchful eye and fallen from a tree. His death was an accident, a simple but tragic accident. Female gorillas give birth only every 5 to 10 years. Every gorilla is a precious treasure. I worked increasingly on the gorilla-watching tourism project, which has already been successful in Rwanda and Uganda. I was ready to share my experience of the forest, as the Aka pygmies had shared theirs with me. Everything I know today is the result of what they taught me. I also had to prepare for the visitors' arrival. Now that the gorillas were about to become a source of income for the inhabitants of the region, many people were interested. My work here was perhaps now over but others had found a new vocation. [singing in foreign language] The gorillas' future lay not in the hands of scientists like myself, but depended on peaceful coexistence with the peoples of the forest. Tomorrow, the true guardians of the sanctuary will be those who not so long ago, were still hunting the gorillas. After a few weeks preparing for the arrival of the first visitors, we set off on the gorillas' trail again. We saw them leave the forest one by one to feed in a clearing. As a scientist, I was more than satisfied. Day after day for eight years, I had followed and studied several groups of gorillas. Now people from around the world were coming to admire them. And yet, despite the project's success, I was worried for other groups. The numbers of lowland gorillas are shrinking day by day. The latest estimates indicate no more than 30,000 to 40,000 in the whole of Central Africa. There were three times as many, just 25 years ago. Gorillas are the most beautiful and fascinating of creatures. They are so close to us. They too have a culture. They forge close lifelong links among family members. They embrace, they kiss, they hold each other's hands. We still have so much to learn from this other form of humanity.