Gorilla Warfare in Rwanda
Gorillas and tourists — the business
Photo by Marcel Muller
In 2009, 15,556 visitors paid $500 each for the opportunity to go gorilla trekking in the PNV, meaning ONE hour of gorilla spotting on ONE specific day. That year, one American couple was feted to commemorate their 50th gorilla trek, which means they’d spent $50,000 on permits alone, never mind travel and accommodations. The total revenue generated by Rwanda’s gorilla tourism in 2009 was $64 million, not an insignificant amount for a desperately poor country.
Dian Fossey presciently acknowledged as much in her book, written nearly three decades earlier. She called this approach “theoretical conservation” in contrast to her exclusive and protective blend of “active conservation.” She wrote:
“To an impoverished country such as Rwanda, an abstract rather than practical approach is more appealing. Theoretical conservation seeks to encourage growth in tourism by improving existing roads that circle the mountains of the Parc des Volcans, by renovating the park headquarters and tourists’ lodging, and by the habituation of gorillas near the park boundaries for tourists to visit and photograph.
Theoretical conservation is lauded highly by Rwandese government and park officials, who are understandably eager to see the Parc des Volcans gain international acclaim and to justify its economic existence in a land-scarce country.”
Everything she foresaw has come to pass — except for improvement in the roads in the park, which remain horrific. The Disneyland atmosphere is palpable every morning, when scores of visitors gather at the (renovated!) park headquarters to be assigned to walking groups, one group for each of the seven habituated gorilla families in the PNV. Each group consists of no more than eight tourists, escorted by guides, flanked by armed guards, and assisted by porters if you want to pay extra (the money is well spent on the steeper, more demanding treks). So you might have 140 people or more panga-hacking their way through the jungle every single day, just so 50 or so tourists can take pictures of wild gorillas (no flash allowed) for one hour.
This invasion has affected the gorillas’ behavior, as independent studies have documented. Even a duffer like me could see that the silverbacks in each group resented our presence. Most of them, the grizzled old leaders of the various groups, would sit apart from the rest of the animals and turn their backs on us, the interlopers. They tried to hide in the foliage and avoid public scrutiny. They didn’t want their pictures taken. They didn’t want to cross our paths. They did not want to look at us. Their body language was as clear as words: We are tolerating you. Sigh. We have to endure this humiliation for an hour. Stoic chewing of grass. We are counting the minutes till we can resume our natural interaction free of you humans. Snort.
The babies and young gorillas are different, as children are everywhere. They are curious about the humans, sometimes showing off, sometimes approaching boldly. Their behavior often depends on the mother: If she is shy and protective, the children will tend to hide or play high in the trees. If she is tolerant of — or indifferent to — the tourists, her offspring will behave with similar nonchalance.