One of our project's main goals is to promote a healthier environment for people as well as gorillas. This is the one-health medicine concept. We can prevent medical problems in the gorillas by preventing problems in other species, including domestic animals, other wildlife and humans — even entire ecosystems.
Four days before the fighting in DR Congo escalated, Magda (Dr. Braum) made a routine visit to check on the orphan gorillas in Goma. I knew Magda's visit had gone well. Thanks to Linda Nunn at G4G and Jodi Carrigan at Zoo Atlanta, Mapendo, Ndeze and Ndakasi each got five new toys! But until this past weekend, I hadn't looked at these photos.
Continue reading "Good News in DR Congo (Amidst All the Bad)" »
WARNING: Graphic images ahead.
After 10 days of caring for the two orphaned Grauer's gorillas in Mutsora, we thought both would live. Vumilia was weak, but he regularly drank plenty of water and ate fairly well, especially fresh fruit.
We continued preparations to move him and Mapendo to Goma. Workers rushed to construct a temporary home at the Dian Fossey Gorilla Fund International (DFGFI) office there. The staff of the NGO WildlifeDirect arranged for a plane flight. Soon, we'd have all four orphans in one city.
Thirty-six hours before the planned move, Eddy called me in the middle of the night. Vumilia had suddenly cried out and collapsed. Using CPR, Eddy managed to revive the young gorilla. I called Dr. Magdalena Braum, our new regional field vet who lives near me in Ruhengeri. We traded phone calls with Eddy, offering ideas and advice, hoping the problem wouldn't recur. But it did and Vumilia died. We'd be meeting a plane carrying one live gorilla — and one dead one.
Early on the day of the flight, Magda and I drove to Goma, stopping at the DFGFI office to check that everything was ready. Unfortunately, the walls of the outdoor gorilla enclosure still reeked of fresh paint and the newly poured cement floor in Mapendo's night house needed another day to dry. I decided that our part-time office space was the better — indeed the only — option.
Out went the desks and bookshelves and in went a mattress. When we let Mapendo out of her transport crate, she looked around calmly and walked straight into Andre's waiting arms.
With Mapendo settled, we began the postmortem on Vumilia. As with any complicated procedure, each of us had an assigned task. Magda and Eddy collected samples; I photographed; and Jacques recorded the findings and helped weigh or measure the various internal organs. The staff of DFGFI-Goma provided us with a makeshift tent; two of its sides open to the fresh air and a table. The flies found us quickly, however, making for a long afternoon. At least the weather was cloudy.
The little gorilla was emaciated and stunted. Though he'd been eating while under our care, he had no fat stores and his muscles were severely atrophied. His knees and elbows were abnormally large, the result of bony swellings characteristic of metabolic bone disease. Known as rickets in humans, this problem results when a young, growing animal is fed a diet too low in calcium or too high in phosphorus. Without access to sunlight, it develops more quickly. This condition, along with the scars around his wrists, suggested that Vumilia had been captive for many months.
The gorilla's internal organs were pale in color with tiny pinpoint hemorrhages in some areas. We did not find any evidence of a communicable infection — good news for Mapendo and all who worked with Vumilia, though these findings are only preliminary.
Next we apply for permits, ship the samples to the University of California, Davis, and wait for the tissues to be analyzed by the expert veterinary pathologists. Only then will we be able to determine the cause of death. Sometimes, we never find out for certain what happened.
Clearly, Vumilia suffered from months of malnutrition, rickets and severe stress, all of which contributed to his death and may have been enough to kill him. We found a small amount of food – partly digested fruit – lodged in the gorilla's larynx, right at the opening to the trachea or windpipe. This could explain what happened at the very end. If the gorilla vomited a mouthful of food and choked on it, he may simply have been too weak to cough it out on his own. Eddy's CPR cleared the airway, but only temporarily. This is only speculation, but it's also our best guess until the final report comes in.
Three days after the postmortem, Magda returned to Goma to check on Mapendo as well as Ndeze and Ndakasi. Earlier, we'd noticed patchy hair loss on Mapendo; by the time of Magda's visit, the condition had worsened and the little gorilla was itchy. The problem looks like ringworm, so Magda started Mapendo on the appropriate medication. She and Jacques hope to confirm the diagnosis with analysis of hair samples.
Fortunately, the new orphan is taking her bottle quite well and shows no overt signs of rickets. Milk, sunlight and plenty of fresh browse will ensure that Mapendo does not suffer the same fate as Vumilia.
Mapendo has two new caretakers, Jean Paul and Babo. Like Andre and the group caring for the mountain gorilla orphans, both are ICCN staff who have helped care for orphaned gorillas in the past — namely Pinga and Serufuli, two of the eight orphans who live at the Kinigi facility in Rwanda.
The rangers have been stuck in the city since last summer anyway. The situation in the Virungas section of the park is chaotic and the forest border is being destroyed by illegal charcoal manufacture. We have no news of the gorillas that live in the area.
I'm happy to report, though, that Ndeze and Ndakasi are doing fine, gaining weight slowly and playing most of the time. And the best news of all: both orphans have normal stool, formed and brown in color, rather than runny and white, and neither has had to be treated with antibiotics for several weeks — acidophilus did the trick. Now that they’re healthy, it was time to give them their vaccines. Magda and Eddy had the honor. Neither gorilla seemed to notice the needle stick. Apparently, Ndeze thought Eddy was just playing a game!
We've also started Ndeze and Ndakasi on a new milk formula, one I brought back from the U.S. that is supplemented with both fatty acids and probiotics. It seems crazy to pay extra baggage fees to transport tins of milk powder such a great distance, but the supply and selection of milk formula vary widely here. Thanks to the donations many people have made recently to MGVP, we can afford it. The caretakers are following a schedule, mixing the new with the old powder and gradually increasing the concentration. So far so good.
[Rwanda, Jan. 21, 2008. Pictures: Dr. Eddy Kambale, Dr. Magda Braum and Lucy Spelman/MGVP]
Recently we've been struggling with a new challenge: caring for two orphaned Grauer's (eastern plains) gorillas confiscated from poachers in DR Congo. On Jan. 3, MGVP Congo field vet Dr. Eddy Kambale and vet tech/caretaker/ICCN ranger Andre Bauma traveled by plane to the ranger station in Mutsora, near Virungas National Park, to evaluate the orphans and help stabilize them.
The young gorillas are weak and thin, and the older one has severe diarrhea and an old wound on his left forearm. At first, we worried that neither would live. We also needed to work out where to house them. Even if they were strong enough to survive the 12- to 15-hour drive to Goma, they cannot share living quarters with Ndeze and Ndakasi, which would potentially expose the mountain gorilla infants to new diseases.
Where to house orphaned gorillas from DR Congo is not a new challenge for MGVP and our main partner in orphan gorilla care, the Dian Fossey Gorilla Fund International. Together we set up a facility in Kinigi, Rwanda, which now houses six Grauer's and two mountain gorillas. We've also done all we can in recent months to create suitable housing for the infants Ndeze and Ndakasi in Goma.
Meanwhile, we're working with ICCN (park) officials to establish a sanctuary in DR Congo for orphaned gorillas — but that's far from a reality as yet.
On the fourth day of treatment, the new Grauer's gorilla orphans began to show signs of improvement. Eddy and Andre have done a terrific job with the help of ICCN staff who work at the ranger station in Mutsora, aided by phone calls and emails relaying ideas and support from the rest of MGVP staff.
The photos shown here, documenting the orphans' progress, were made possible by Emmanuel Merode at Wildlife Direct, who has helped with all sorts of things, including Internet access at Mutsora so that Eddy can transmit the digital images he takes daily.
The smaller orphan, a female named Mapendo, is approximately 3 1/2 years old, though she is so thin that it's hard to judge her age. Fortunately, she has not been afflicted with diarrhea and seems calm around people.
Andre is working with her patiently, trying to get her to take a bottle of milk, but so far she has refused it. On the positive side, she's eating some of the vegetation offered, likes bananas and also takes an oral rehydration solution fairly well. Given his experience, if anyone can establish a routine with her, it's Andre.
The larger gorilla, an approximately four-year-old male named Vumilia, is recovering from severe enteritis (watery stool). He is weak, but strong enough to put up a bit of a fight with the doctor. Eddy and Andre have worked out a way to restrain him briefly for treatments of subcutaneous fluids and antibiotics. Now the challenge is to get Vumilia to take his medicine orally and to drink and eat enough so that he will no longer need fluid therapy.
Finding appropriate forest food for confiscated gorillas is another challenge. Thanks to the efforts of everyone at Mutsora station, the orphans are now receiving some fresh vegetation — banana stems and ficus — to stimulate their appetites, but we need a better, long-term solution.
A major criterion for the orphaned gorilla sanctuary we hope will one day be established in DR Congo is proximity to their natural habitat so that forest food can be collected easily. In time, the new orphans will learn to eat fruits and vegetables from the market, but they don't recognize these items as food yet and the selection is limited in the Mutsora region.
Gorillas are highly social animals. We know from experience with orphaned gorillas that their behavioral and psychological health is as important as their physical health. While we can stabilize them medically, we cannot treat the stress specifically. Although their location in Mutsora is less than ideal, the decision to keep them there for now has given the orphans time to bond with Andre, and establish a drinking and eating routine.
Given that both gorillas are eating and tolerating their treatments, it's time to consider next steps regarding their housing. For the present, they will stay in Mutsora and — we hope — continue to gain strength.
[Rwanda, Jan. 14, 2008. Pictures: Dr. Eddy Kambale/MGVP]
Last week, the Congolese government launched attacks on the rebels hiding out near Goma and the DRC side of the Virungas park. Lawlessness in this region led earlier to the outright killing of at least a dozen mountain gorillas (Gorilla Slaughter, A Personal Account).
Now, people displaced by the war are taking what they need from the forest — cutting down trees to make charcoal for fuel, searching for freshwater and hunting in order to survive. Refugee camps are also multiplying, increasing the risk of the spread of infectious diseases to the gorillas.
I hope Anderson Cooper's story, which aired recently on CBS' 60 Minutes, draws attention to the fact that this war threatens the health of the entire DRC Virungas ecosystem: the people, the gorillas and the forest.
The deteriorating situation around Goma also threatens Ndakasi and Ndeze, the two orphaned mountain gorillas still being cared for there. We continue to wait for permission to move them to Kinigi, where I think they would thrive.
I wrote in an earlier blog that we'd begun feeding them yogurt as a treatment for the diarrhea that has afflicted them off and on to help promote friendly intestinal flora, bacteria they would normally acquire from their mother's milk. Unfortunately, they didn't really like the yogurt, so we've switched instead to acidophilus tablets in their milk. Now, Jean Paul is running special stains on their feces so we can monitor the changes, if any. I've asked him to teach the field vets how to do this test. The orphans continue to present a learning opportunity for all of us at MGVP.
Meanwhile, an outbreak of Ebola virus has killed two dozen people in Uganda. It began in a town a considerable distance from our area, but the contagion is still closer to Bwindi and the Virungas park — and Rwanda — than it's ever been before. This rapidly fatal hemorrhagic fever spreads through close contact with infected body fluids. Infection in humans has been linked to the practice of eating bush meat, particularly primates and fruit bats.
This virus has also killed thousands of lowland gorillas and chimpanzees elsewhere in Central Africa. Though it has never been reported in mountain gorillas, we consider them highly susceptible. The disease is so nasty that relatively few — people or animals — survive the infection long enough to infect others, so Ebola rarely spreads great distances. Even so, we're all on alert as the situation progresses.
Despite the November and December rains, we have not yet had a case of respiratory illness among the mountain gorillas in Rwanda and the mild coughs in Uganda's Nkuringo Group have resolved. We don't know, of course, about the gorillas in DRC. All we can do is carry on with our jobs in the places where we can safely monitor the gorillas.
When I made a routine health check to assess the members of the Kwitonda Group this week, their pristine forest home seemed light years away from the war and the deadly Ebola, but it's not.
During my first month on the job in last year's rainy season there was a severe outbreak of flu-like respiratory disease in Rwanda's Pablo Group that led to the death of several infants. Just as the group began to recover, poachers at the Rwanda-Congo border splintered the family, separating infants from mothers and leading to the death of those who were too young to survive the sudden weaning.
Every time I see the lone survivor, Agahozo, united again with his mother in Pablo Group, I think of the need to prevent these incursions from the outside — poaching and the introduction of human disease.
I responded to a call about a coughing gorilla last week, fearing this could be the start of a new outbreak. The trackers had reported a persistent cough the day before in 2-1/2-year-old Segasira, an infant male in the Kuryama (research) Group.
He wasn't coughing during my visit, however, and appeared perfectly normal. He'd probably had what we call a "gallium" cough. This sticky plant often catches in the back of a gorilla's throat, causing irritation that produces coughing. Because we know that coughs and sneezes can be intermittent, it's always a good idea to stay in the group for at least an hour to be certain there’s no problem. So I took plenty of time to watch Segasira playing, eating and tumbling with the other youngsters in order to make sure he was OK — the best part of the job.
A group of us met at MGVP's offices in Ruhengeri recently to review what we know about Ebola and to discuss the increasing number of refugee camps nearby in DRC to be certain we're all sharing information as it comes in. The meeting was also an opportunity to go over all of the guidelines in place to protect the health of the mountain gorillas from tourists, scientists, park staff and the military.
We agreed the Ebola outbreak in Uganda is not so close that we recommend immediate action like closing border crossings or access to the park. But everything could change rapidly if the infection should spread in our direction.
For general information on Ebola, check the Centers for Disease Control.
Sciencedaily is very readable and gives many links about this disease.
For news updates on Ebola as well as the DRC Congo War, check Reuters.
See also various blogs on Wildlife Direct for more about the Virungas park in DRC.
[Rwanda, Dec. 9, 2007. Pictures: Lucy Spelman/MGVP]
I continued my travels in Uganda last week, first on safari with friends, then back to work with gorillas (more about them in a moment).
Early on, in Kisoro, we drove past a refugee camp set up by M.O.N.U.C., the U.N. mission in the Democratic Republic of Congo. The camp is just off the main road connecting the Virunga Mountains with Bwindi Impenetrable Forest, the only two places in the world where mountain gorillas live. Though the refugees have access to basic health care and vaccinations, any number of diseases could whip through this camp, putting people, as well as the nearby mountain gorillas, at risk.
Our next encounter with M.O.N.U.C. was a good deal less positive. We were in Queen Elizabeth Park on a game drive. Our amazing guide, Francis Kiwanuka, had spotted several lions after hours of searching. The male lion had a swollen muzzle, so of course I was trying to get a better look at him.
Suddenly, two U.N. trucks drove up and parked behind us, engines running. Dozens of people got out and continued talking. The lions moved away and so did we.
Only about 100 lions remain in the entire park, a decline in population caused by the poisoning of lions by cattle farmers who prefer to protect their herds in this way rather than wait for compensation for their losses from the Uganda Wildlife Authority (U.W.A.).
Evidently, M.O.N.U.C. staff visit the park weekly during their breaks. Our safari group was disappointed and disheartened by their behavior. I don't think it can be good for these few lions to have people visiting the park who don't observe common safari etiquette, which calls for visitors to turn off their vehicles, stay inside and remain quiet around the animals.
Francis quickly put some distance between our truck and the U.N. group. We continued on our game drive, passing a huge herd of elephants, one of many we glimpsed during our three-day safari.
Suddenly, Francis stopped, turned off the engine and pointed upward. A leopard! She too had a minor medical problem — a cloudy right eye with a bit of discharge. She noticed us but then went back to sleep . . . until the U.N. trucks showed up. She was long gone before they all got out and walked around her tree.
Francis himself was as impressive as the animals we saw on our Ugandan safari. He works for Volcanoes Safaris, a company that manages several eco-lodges in Central Africa. We'd hired him through Terra Incognita Ecotours, a company that donates to M.G.V.P. when guests visit our project in Rwanda.
These tour companies, as personified by Francis, offer proof that people and wildlife can live in balance with mutual respect for one another's boundaries. As for the U.N., maybe the Queen of England can ask them to mind their manners — this week she is due to visit the park named in her honor.
On my own I traveled next to Buhoma, Uganda, near the boundary of the Bwindi Impenetrable Forest. Bwindi is not far from the Virungas, but the drive on winding often muddy mountain roads with a stop at the border crossing from Rwanda takes about eight hours.
M.G.V.P.'s Ugandan field vet, Dr. Benard Ssebide, is based in the Buhoma area and we planned to do a few routine health checks together. Benard also wanted to give me an update on the new M.G.V.P. field vet office, still under construction.
Bwindi is home to half the world's 720 mountain gorillas, though only about a quarter of these have been habituated to people. The percentage is much higher (75 percent) for the gorillas that live in the Virunga Massif of Rwanda, D.R.C. and Uganda.
Most scientists say that the two populations separated about 500 years ago — the result of logging and agriculture. Compared with the Virunga gorillas, Bwindi gorillas live at lower elevations in tree-covered peaks and valleys, eat a greater variety of plants, and have shorter hair.
To make a cell phone call, Benard must drive to a particular spot on the road where he can get decent reception. His office is wherever he finds a spot to land.
Recently, though, M.G.V.P. has co-funded the construction of a small building. One side houses M.G.V.P.'s new Uganda field office and it's almost ready. The other side was funded by a small business owner who planned to open an Internet cafe. Now we're hearing that this may never happen. So for now, sending email or talking by SKYPE in this area remains a dream.
I trekked with Benard and U.W.A. rangers to see Bwindi's Rushegura Group of mountain gorillas. Benard has been monitoring a 10-month-old in the group. It shows no signs of ill health except for multiple whitish-gray, plaque-like lesions on its chin, nostrils and lips. These lesions appear viral — possibly herpes or pox or papilloma (warts) — and have been observed on other infant gorillas. Indeed, during this visit, we noticed another infant, an 8-month-old, with similar facial lesions.
Since the skin condition doesn't make the infants sick, we have not intervened and thus have been unable to make a precise diagnosis. It's definitely not mange, which has been documented once before in Bwindi. But it does last for weeks. To track this problem, Benard and I took dozens of photographs of the Rushegura Group infants, hoping that one of us would capture a decent image. I learned that it can be very dark in the Bwindi Forest, even on a clear day.
After visiting the Rushegura Group, our plan was to visit another Buhoma-based family of mountain gorillas: Mabale Group. But the U.W.A. rangers reported that a black back (a young adult male gorilla) in the Nkuringo Group had been coughing. This group lives on the other side of Bwindi near the town of Nkuringo, a 15-kilometer (9-mile) forest walk from Buhoma. Unfortunately, the gorillas were another five kilometers away — too far to walk and do a health check on the same day. We got back in the car, drove five hours, spent the night in Kisoro, and drove another hour-and-a-half the next morning to Nkuringo.
To reach Nkuringo Group, we hiked down into a deep valley. Because of the dense vegetation, I found it difficult to fully observe each individual. But we did succeed in getting a clear view of the coughing black back, Kisoro. He rested most of the time, ate a bit and intermittently sounded a loud, dry cough. We were relieved to find that none of the other gorillas was coughing. Benard will go back to check in a few days. After a challenging hike out of the valley, I left with a new appreciation for the word "impenetrable."
[Uganda, Nov. 17, 2007. Pictures: Lucy Spelman/MGVP]
Last week, friends from the U.S. arrived for a long-planned visit. I've known one of them, Naomi, for more than 20 years. A classmate from vet school at University of California, Davis, she runs a small-animal practice in Aptos, Calif., rides dressage and lives on a small farm with her husband, Steve. Naomi has often traveled to visit me at work, but almost decided against this trip. After seeing the gorillas, she said, "I can't imagine why I hesitated for even a moment to come here!"
Robyn Kravit from Washington, D.C., the mastermind of the trip, brought her sister Nancy and two friends, Dave and Dennis. They met Naomi at the Brussels airport and the group of five flew to Kigali. Robyn arranged everything so that I could join them whenever possible. In Rwanda we toured the Genocide Memorial, trekked to see gorillas and golden monkeys, visited Dian Fossey’s grave site, and then drove to Uganda and hiked in Mgahinga National Park. Not only was the experience a lot of fun, it also gave me a fresh perspective on eco-tourism.
I first trekked to see mountain gorillas a year ago as part of my initial job orientation, joining a tourist visit to Susa Group. I remember hiking three hours through the beautiful forest, encountering my first stinging nettles and wondering if we’d actually see any of my future patients. Then I caught a whiff of silverback — a strong musty smell. Seconds later an impressive male gorilla crossed the trail in front of me. I watched in awe for several minutes. Suddenly, I felt like an intruder and wanted to leave — I'd invaded his pristine world.
I felt too close for several other reasons. One undoubtedly had to do with my years as a clinical zoo vet: most Western lowland gorillas I’ve treated for one ailment or another do not remember me fondly. The other had to do with protecting the animals from human-borne illnesses, including the common cold. Though our tourist group was doing its best to keep the recommended 20-foot distance rule — if you cough or sneeze, the aerosolized droplets can’t carry that far — these gorillas walked right past us on the trail.
Now I appreciate that closeness. If the gorillas weren’t habituated, they wouldn’t have doctors. Nor would we even know we had patients, let alone be able to treat them. The trackers are the eyes and ears of health care, because they can get so close. Since the gorillas don’t seem to mind a human presence, we vets can observe an injury closely. On the rare occasions when we need to dart an animal, we can minimize the stress because we don’t have to chase it.
Last week's visit to Susa Group with my friends reminded of how I’d felt a year ago. After a difficult hike, we caught up to the gorillas moving through a dense bamboo thicket. Several stopped to glance in our direction, others kept foraging and a female with a new baby sat down right next to us. My friends marveled at the experience. Why didn’t the gorillas mind our presence? The situation seemed so fragile.
When you stand in the cultivated farmland that dominates the landscape around the Virungas, it's hard to imagine that an untouched wild animal habitat exists in this part of Africa. Once you're up there with the gorillas, you realize that it's possible to strike a balance between animals and people, even though the interface is a delicate one. Tourism brings in money that can benefit both, but it also carries risks in terms of disease transmission.
Our visit to the Genocide Memorial was a sobering experience in every way, except for one: Rwandans do not hide the horrors of their recent past. The detailed exhibit tells the complete story of the 1994 genocide and its history. It also compares what happened in Rwanda to genocides in other countries. We agreed that the survival of the mountain gorilla was amazing, given the years of turmoil.
At the request of Dian Fossey, MGVP (Mountain Gorilla Veterinary Project) was established a year after her death in 1986. But access to the gorillas over the next decade was limited because of the genocide. Even trackers based at Fossey’s research station had to leave the forest. Ultimately, all of her camp buildings were looted and destroyed. Only her grave site remains. The current fighting in the Democratic Republic of Congo has created a similar unstable situation in the Virungas. These days, no one can monitor the mountain gorillas on the Congolese side of the Rwandan border.
There are other fragile species in the Virungas that need protection, including the golden monkey. These rare and relatively unstudied animals are found only in the range of the mountain gorilla in areas where bamboo is plentiful. When my friends and I visited the golden monkeys last week, we saw dozens of them leaping above our heads from branch to branch, foraging for food. We don’t really know what threatens their health, beyond habitat loss. There is still so much to learn.
[Rwanda, Nov. 13, 2007. Pictures: Lucy Spelman/MGVP]
MGVP's first round of art classes ended this week with a proper art show. What does art have to do with mountain gorilla medicine? The answer is simple: communication. We can't ensure the health of the gorillas by working in a vacuum. Do Rwandans know that their health is connected to that of the gorillas? How can MGVP help people and gorillas live healthier lives? Art gives us a way to explore these ideas together, despite cultural differences.
Artist Julie Ghrist runs the art project, called "The Art of Conservation: Creating a Healthful Connection Between Mountain Gorillas and People." When she and I brainstormed the name, we chose a long descriptive one. It seemed important at the time because we didn't have any artwork to share. Now we do and we're excited about the fact that the art can speak for itself.
Julie organized the curriculum so that the students received technical training tied to specific topics. For example, the environment was the subject of the lesson on painting a scene with a human figure. The top half of the paper depicts destruction like setting fires and shooting animals. The lower half illustrates protection like planting trees, tracking gorillas and farming instead of poaching. The art show offers a selection of these themed lessons.
Choosing the artwork for the show — one piece per student, 150 in all — wasn't easy. Valerie (translator), Eric ( instructor) and I met with Julie for hours to make the selection. We spread the various drawings, pastels and paintings out on Julie's dining room table. One group of pictures, from a lesson on using watercolors to draw a live animal — a gecko — was so good that we wanted to include them all.
I left the team long before they finished matting the artwork and didn't see it again until the first of three shows at Kabeza. Felicien Mulinda, who works as gardener/guard for MGVP helped us put the show up. He wore his new AoC T-shirt, designed by Julie. The design on the front is her original artwork "12 Mountain Gorillas." I asked Felicien later what he thought of the whole event. He answered, "Très bien" (very good.)
Julie hung the artwork on locally-made bamboo mats so it could be easily moved. Designed to share the art produced by the different classes, the exhibit also served as the final lesson. I made it to all three of the shows. Though I didn't understand the conversation, it was clear that the students were interested and excited. Many found their own work first then moved on to view the rest.
Humans and mountain gorillas share many things, including disease susceptibility, the need for a clean environment, food, shelter and water and a sense of personal hygiene. These ideas were introduced to classes in different ways. At Ninda, Julie arranged for a briefing on HIV/AIDS. Then Eric gave a lesson on drawing a six-panel story board in colored pencil about the presentation. These drawings caught the eye of Ninda community leader Cecile Nyirabahutu during the show.
Though the classes were structured around themed drawing lessons, Julie encouraged — and welcomed — any and all forms of art. Many students wrote poems or songs; some created special dances. At the Ninda class, every lesson ended with some form of music. We learned that Valerie is both an excellent translator and a terrific dancer!
Julie invited various guest teachers to the classes, including soprano and music professor, Virginia Croskery. At Kabwende primary school, Virginia greeted everyone with a few verses of "Now I Know My ABCs" and "Doe a Deer." After asking the kids to sing for her, she picked out one tune, changed the Kinyarwanda words, and soon had the whole class singing the "Tooth-Brushing, Hand-Washing and Singing Feels Good Song."
Virginia also showed the classes another form of creative expression — acting. After distributing colorful fabric and hats as props, she gave the students a scenario and asked them to act out a solution: your goat is sick, your mother is sick, wind blew the roof off your house and a child is lost on the way to school. The results for each of the three classes were remarkably similar. Students worked together to solve the problems and they had fun!
The artwork produced by the AoC classes has helped me better understand how Rwandans view the Virunga Volcano Mountain ecosystem. Most have never been in the gorilla's habitat, making the forest a vague, somewhat scary place. While I view farming as potentially damaging to the environment, people living near the park see it as an example of environmental protection. Otherwise, food and shelter would be poached from the park.
The poverty here was a challenge for Julie when she first started the classes. Many people are desperate for something to help raise their standard of living and some of the adult students hoped the art class would give them job training, or even money. Though that was beyond Julie's scope, she did find a way to give each person something special: an AoC t-shirt with his or her own artwork on the front — a souvenir of class participation and achievement.
I enjoyed watching Julie hand out the personalized t-shirts to the Kabeza class. One man's design included a gorilla, an elephant, a heart-shaped symbol and the letters O R T P N — the initials of the Office Rwandais du Tourisme et Parcs Nationaux. During my visit to his class I'd explained that the vets work very closely with ORTPN. I was pleased that he'd remembered.
Julie also wanted to share photos she'd taken during classes with the students. She asked Faustin Nemeye, another of MGVP's gardener/guards, to help create a makeshift cinema out of bits of cloth, plastic tarp and bamboo. We planned to project the slides on a white sheet hung in the shade using our digital projector running off a charged battery for electricity. But on a bright, sunny day, creating shade turned out to be a challenge.
Everyone said, "No problem ("Ntakibazo" in Kinyarwanda,) we can make it dark enough using everyone's spare scarves." The theater worked wonderfully, though it looked more like a bowling alley. The Ninda students smiled and laughed during the slide show, seeing themselves at work drawing, acting and singing. Once again, Julie had found a way to give something back to the students.
The AoC is still a new project and we need to find ways to get the art — all forms — into the community. The classes have already made one thing clear: Rwandans living near the gorilla park want to feel and be healthy. They want to improve their daily hygiene. And I see a way that MGVP and its partners can help: by providing a decent supply of handkerchiefs, soap and toothbrushes to accompany the songs that explain why they matter.
[Rwanda, Sept. 1, 2007. Pictures: Lucy Spelman/MGVP]
I'd just started out on a hike near Visoke with friends when I got a call from Elisabeth (the ORTPN vet tech) saying that a young female gorilla in Kwitonda group had been snared and was still attached to a tree. Having just returned from international travel, I'm officially in quarantine for several weeks, forced to avoid close contact with the gorillas in case I've been exposed to an illness during my travels, but David (Dr. Gardner-Roberts) and Jean Felix (Dr. Kinani) had gone to Kigali for the day to examine a confiscated chimpanzee.
I hesitated for maybe 30 seconds, then decided I couldn't not go. We might be able to dart the animal quickly and get the snare off before it did any damage. I'd wear a mask and gloves (we do that anyway) and minimize my contact with the patient; Elisabeth could do most of the hands-on work. With luck, the gorillas might have removed the snare themselves by the time we got there. Unfortunately, Elisabeth said this one was made of wire.
Explaining the situation to Julie and her visiting friend, Virginia, I urged them to continue with their hike and started running down the mountain. My friends would have none of that, so they ran, too. (Virginia remarked later that this had been a unique form of exercise.)
Julie drove me to the office to pick up the darting kit and medical bags, then to Kinigi to pick up Elisabeth and then to the meeting point near the park border. As Julie and Virginia drove away, I apologized for ruining their peaceful excursion. No problem, they said; they were glad to help the gorillas.
At the park wall we were joined by Leonadas (ORTPN), Bosco (a member of the Karisoke patrolling unit) and several other trackers. The silverbacks — first Kwitonda and then Akarevuru — had just intervened and set Magayane free from the tree by gnawing on the wire cable until they broke it. She'd run quickly into the forest, the snare cinched tight around her middle finger.
We followed the group's trail, hoping they'd calm down enough so that we could at least get a good look at Magayane. The sooner we got the snare off the better, but it wasn't worth pushing the group if they remained nervous. Magayane was traveling at the front — we never saw her. Kwitonda brought up the rear instead of leading and hooting often, a clear indication that he was upset. Just after noon, the trackers advised leaving the group and going after them again first thing the next day. Things would be easier then and we could also assemble a full team.
When we reached the nest site the next morning, the Kwitonda group had just begun to move about and look for food. Not only were the gorillas calm and behaving normally, as if nothing had happened the day before, but we also had a clear view of our patient. We watched Magayane climb into a tree to eat favoring her left arm. I saw a flash of silver — the end of the wire snare protruding from her middle finger. Though she moved before I could focus the camera it didn't matter, we had the information we needed.
Jean Felix prepared the anesthetic dart while Elisabeth and David readied the bags. My job was to be both photographer and videographer for this intervention. We had enough trackers and vets, the weather was good and by documenting the procedure, I could contribute while also remaining a tourist's distance away from the gorillas. The only trouble with this plan was that I was too far away to hear the ongoing discussion and subsequent translation about who was who among the gorillas.
It's still very hard for me to identify every individual unless the group is stationary and together, but I do know the silverbacks. And that's important. The No. 1 rule during an intervention is to know the location of the chief and his second in command. They are the ones who can, and will, attack human intruders.
For nearly three hours the team followed the gorillas as they foraged for food. Finally, Magayane lay down under a tree. We'd already passed Kwitonda, who'd stopped to rest earlier on the trail — exactly what we'd been waiting for. Akarevuru (the second silverback) was ahead of us — out of sight, but not far away. A half-dozen gorillas rested near Magayane — they'd have to be moved after the dart hit its mark.
Jean Felix readied the air-powered pistol while David and the trackers formed a human screen to hide the darting barrel from the gorillas. I managed to position myself just in time to get the darting on film — a perfect shot. The next few minutes were the riskiest for the intervention team, yet we had to feign nonchalance. Magayane pulled the dart out, looked at it and dropped it to the ground. She moved away but began to act sleepy within minutes. Akarevuru arrived and checked out the dart, but left it on the ground. As soon as our patient fell deeply asleep, the trackers lined up in a row, ready to force the other gorillas to move away by waving big sticks and yelling at them.
I turned the cameras off at that point with an eye to my own safety. Everything happened quickly and just as we had hoped. A few of the gorillas bolted upright and turned to offer aggression, but the moving wall of loud humans was too scary. Frightened, they ran off. My guess is they didn’t recognize the stick-waving figures as the trackers they know so well. Oddly enough, Kwitonda did not come to investigate the commotion. Nor did any of the other gorillas return to check us out.
Elisabeth, David and Jean Felix worked quickly to remove the snare, collect blood samples and give Magayane an injection of antibiotics. Her anesthesia went smoothly; even the portable (in-home) blood pressure unit I'd bought at a CVS drugstore in Washington, D.C., worked perfectly. Just as the vet team finished, about 40 minutes after the darting, Magayane raised her head. She was given her anesthetic reversal while we packed away the gear. On cue it seemed, the skies opened and rain poured down.
Still favoring her left arm, Magayane sat up a few minutes later, then stood and wandered off in search of her family. She appeared tipsy and a bit confused, so for the next 10 minutes we stayed with her, forming another line of people — a quiet one this time — to push her in the direction of the group. As Magayane recovered her senses more fully, she picked up the trail and found her way quickly. We heard Kwitonda beat his chest as she rejoined the group.
Everyone felt good at that moment, but as we hiked back to the truck, a wave of frustration and sadness hit me. Yes, we'd helped a wild gorilla and saved her from suffering the loss of a finger or even a hand. But how is it that we've had two snared gorillas in Rwanda over the course of one month, when there hasn't been a case like this here in years?
We'd also heard earlier in the day that the decomposed body of another gorilla had been found in the DRC, a fifth victim of the shooting at the end of July. At least the gorillas in Uganda are OK. So while we (MGVP and our partners) have saved two wild mountain gorillas from snares, we've also lost seven mountain gorillas from the wild — five dead, two orphaned. Right now, it feels like one step forward, two back.
[Rwanda, Aug. 16, 2007. Pictures: Lucy Spelman/MGVP]
Most of the MGVP staff were in Kigali for Rwanda's first-ever scientific biodiversity conference when we heard the horrible news: Four or more gorillas had been shot in the DRC, inside the Parc Nationaux de Virungas, and there was at least one new orphan clinging to a young male gorilla.
The baby's mother and the group's silverback had been killed, along with several others. Equally disturbing, these deaths were the result of an ongoing feud between a number of individuals vying for control of the resources around the park, like charcoal production and mining. Ndakasi's mother had been kiilled for the same reason.
We gathered to discuss what to do about the baby. This was a life-threatening, human-induced problem; it was well within our mandate to intervene. But was it safe? David, Jacques and Eddy left right away for Goma, but not before I convinced them to slow down a bit and make proper plans. They needed to make sure the local officials in the DRC were supportive of the rescue effort and would provide security. Simon and the staff of the Diane Fossey Gorilla Fund International in Goma would be ready to help care for the infant. If possible, we also wanted to do necropsies on the dead gorillas.
Soon after, we heard more bad news. Dushishoze, a four year old in Pablo Group, had reportedly been caught in a snare. I debated whether or not to continue with my plan to leave that afternoon for the United States for a break and a much-needed visit to my dentist. "Why does everything happen at once?" I thought. On the other hand, we've got a good team and this is a chance to build everyone's experience.
I checked in with project director Dr. Mike Cranfield in Maryland. He agreed the team should go ahead with our plan. Eliisabeth would check on Dushishoze the next day while Jean Felix gave his presentation at the meeting. They'd both go into the field the following day, accompanied by David on his return from the DRC, to remove the snare if necessary.
Tired and depressed, I got on the plane a few hours later. If the team found the new orphan, it would be the third mountain gorilla removed from the forest in the seven months I've worked for the vet project. The plan all along has been to reintroduce the orphaned gorillas back to the wild when they reach reproductive age. Is this really feasible? I wish we didn't have to try.
I checked in with the team as frequently as I could over the next 36 hours as I made my way to Washington, D.C. From the Brussels airport I learned that officials in the DRC had organized a team to go with MGVP staff to look for the infant. They might not allow the necropsies, however because the ICCN park staff wanted to have a mass burial of the dead gorillas. Distressingly, it appeared that other gorillas were missing from the same group.
In Rwanda, the snare around Dushishoze's wrist did indeed need to come off. Since he didn't seem to be in great discomfort, though, the team decided to wait a day in the hope that his mother or the other gorillas might remove it on their own. From the Dulles airport, I learned that the snare was still in place; Dushishoze would have to be anesthetized the next day.
Meanwhile, the new orphan had been rescued, identified as Ndeze, and put in Andres' care. Andres has a magical touch with infant gorillas. Though officially a park ranger, he seems to be spending most of his time these days raising babies. A skilled tracker, he normally works inside the park for the ICCN (Institute for the Conservation of Nature) in the DRC. Fortunately, both he and the ICCN officials have said yes every time we've asked for his help in raising orphans.
Andres had brought a bottle for the baby with him into the field and she took to it right away. This was good news. What would or should happen to her and Ndakasi down the road was a question that kept floating in and out of my mind. It's a decision that really should be made by the ICCN and DRC government officials. Maybe it — and the increasingly urgent matter of the safety of mountain gorillas inside the park — will finally get the attention it deserves. My blackberry was buzzing with emails from friends who'd heard about the recent killings, asking if I was okay.
Though the news about Ndeze was good so far, I worried that she'd suffered considerable stress and might be at risk for a health problem. It was agreed that she would have her own room, separate from Ndakasi's, in the Goma house. Andres and the other caretakers would have to be very careful not to introduce any sort of infection to her. The next few days would be critical.
Unfortunately, Ndeze began to refuse her bottle at the end of the next day. She appeared to weaken as well. Simon, who knows the behavior of the orphans very well, felt she was still adjusting and nervous. David, who'd been in Rwanda helping Jean Felix with Dushishoze (all went well with the anesthesia and the snare was off), rushed back to Goma. He and I exchanged e-mails.
On physical exam, the new orphan appeared normal. We agreed to try something very simple: administer subcutaneous fluids with a little dextrose. Sometimes baby animals, whether mammal, bird or reptile, just need a little boost as they are transitioning to new food and a new environment.
Thankfully, the subcutaneous fluids seemed to make a big difference. Ndeze began to take her bottle again within a few hours and continued to improve the next day. She clearly began to bond to Andres, settling down and beginning to play. Eddy returned from the field, where he and Jacques had finished the sample collection from the dead gorillas, and took over the orphan care.
David returned to Rwanda for a rest — we hoped — and I planned to stop reading my blackberry e-mail like a madwoman. Luckily, my dentist understood. We agreed that my job was actually a pretty good distraction for just about anything, including my sore mouth.
[DRC, Rwanda, July 27, 2007. Pictures: Jacques Inyanya, Simon Childs/MGVP | Veronica Vellocellio/DFGFI ]
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