Updates from Uganda: month one – chimps 1, chimpers 0

The chimps successfully evaded me nearly all month. In my first week I managed to locate a handful of them and spent about an hour patiently watching their backsides as they rested and groomed in a dense thicket. Then, without warning, they silently disappeared…for the remainder of the month. On a couple of other occasions I momentarily encountered a lone male or a female with a young infant but they didn’t share my excitement in locating them and bolted. Even so, every morning I get up before the sun and head off into the forest for another hopeful day of searching and hiking in the jungle. It’s sort of like waking up and going on a nature walk, only with elephants and an armed guard.

I’m accompanied on my adventures by the Uganda Wildlife Authority ranger assigned to Mugiri Camp for the week. Some of the rangers are very helpful, know the trails, and have helped researchers here or in Kibale. Other rangers believe they are present only to protect me, but when they hide behind me as we watch a herd of buffalo cross the trail ahead and when I know the forest better after only being here for a few weeks I start to wonder who’s protecting who. I spend each day walking the trails on the lookout for the large dark-haired apes I’ve been charged with studying, collecting their dung, describing their nests, tracking their knuckle prints, and listening to their pant hoots, all with the hope that it will lead me to them eventually. It’s hard to believe that an animal that is nearly the same size as me can go undetected, but believe me they can, they’ve walked right by me and I had no clue.

I was completely doubled over, right hand in a plastic bag about to grab a fresh steamy pile of chimp poo, left hand on the GPS trying to figure out where exactly we were, when it happened. A female with an infant riding on her back and a juvenile in tow walked up the trail and just before making the bend and running right into us, they saw us, changed trajectory, and vanished into the undergrowth. I completely missed the entire event and would never have known except that Shem, the ranger, who wasn’t digging in excrement, watched it unfold. It happened so fast that by the time he formed the words to tell me all I could do was stand there holding up my poop prize and look at him dumbfounded.

The other wildlife in the forest have been doing an outstanding job of compensating for the lack of chimp sightings though. There have been leopard prints at our river crossings, genets quarrelling outside my tent at night, gerbils living in the outhouse, baboons playing and frolicking near my porch, and creatures I never knew existed, like Alexander’s cusimanse, surprising us in the forest. And I nearly stepped on a young Ugandan kob my first time walking through the savanna. The kob are striking, golden colored ungulates that are finally making a comeback in the reserve after being poached heavily during the years of Idi Amin in the 70’s, the Ugandan-Tanzanian war in 1978 and 1979, as well as after and presently. In the 60’s their population flourished and it’s estimated that there were 20,000 in this 550 square kilometer protected area, but after all the conflict and rampant poaching pressure the population had dropped to a disheartening 2000 individuals. Those same events completely wiped out the Jackson’s hartebeest here as well. Luckily for the kob, the reserve and their population were not past saving and in the early 90’s the Uganda Wildlife Authority made a commitment to do so. They are now thriving.

Uganda kob in the reserve

Walking through the savanna’s tall grass can be daunting, the angry equatorial sun scorches into you, patches of vegetation swallow up your lower body, unseen creatures rustle and scurry away underfoot, and the vast open landscape can leave you feeling vulnerable and exposed. Every time we emerge from the dark dense cloak of the forest into the blinding heat of the savanna I want to turn and slink right back in. There is a constant loop of terror that plays in my mind: big snakes, lions, hyenas, buffalo, elephants, fear, fear, fear, I am going to be eaten, trampled, bitten, big snakes... I can understand why the chimps seem so nervous when they are encountered in this habitat, there’s nowhere to escape to. So when the ferocious, caramel-colored beast sprung up from where I was about to place my foot, naturally I screamed at the top of my lungs in absolute horror expecting it was about to rip me to shreds. When I realized it was a fuzzy, harmless, young antelope and it was probably thinking the same thing about the evil, bipedal monster about to obliterate it with big rubber soles I was slightly embarrassed.

I was given quite an introduction to the more destructive and dangerous members of the Semliki forest community on my very first day of work. Unlike the chimps, the elephants have a difficult time moving through the forest undetected; they leave a very obvious trail of mini craters in their wake, colossal mountains of dung, as well as broken limbs and lifeless trampled trees, and they destroy our bridges – they appear to strategically smack our carefully placed handrails down and demolish the sticks that hold them in place seemingly out of spite.

Elephant crater

We could hear them on the other side of the river on our way out to the escarpment so we paused on the trail and watched the trees rattle, shake, crack, and break and finally an enormous forest elephant came into the clearing. It was exhilarating; I’ve seen elephants before but usually from the perceived safety of an automobile, not on foot. The river was between us, we were quiet, and they didn’t seem to notice us but still my heart was racing. We left them and their prehensile trunks behind stripping bark from trees at the river and continued on our way up the escarpment to search for the chimps. My heart was soon pounding again but this time it was due to the strenuous climb up the steep sides of the valley. Finding nothing but a few nests we turned around and were headed back by early afternoon. Unbeknownst to us, the herd of elephants had made their way across the river while we were gone and were wreaking havoc in the forest just off the trail we were coming down. We didn’t hear the first one until we passed it and at that point realized we had inadvertently walked right into the middle of the group. We suddenly noticed there were multiple mammoth figures immediately to our left.  Just then, an enormous elephant came out onto the trail about 15 meters in front of us and turned its tusked head to look in our direction. That one look did it for me; I want to stay far away from the elephants. We scrambled through some vegetation as fast as we could, jumped the river, and left them to their destructive foraging. I managed to regain my composure as we continued the walk back to camp, but only just in time for us to spook a buffalo alongside the trail. At that point I nearly fainted.

We ran into the elephants over the next few days and were forced to reroute our travel but since then haven’t seen or heard much from them, which is fine by me. After that first day I was wondering how I would survive six months of being bullied and harassed by impatient and irritable pachyderms. But the bullies have moved on for now.

Cheers from the forest,

Corey

Updates from Uganda: A new year, a new job, and a new primate

Last year I celebrated New Year’s Eve on the island of Zanzibar in Tanzania amongst a great group of friends. We enjoyed a delicious dinner, some drinks, good company, and celebrated the passing of 2011 and coming of 2012 from the rooftop of our hotel in Stonetown. This New Years, I was back on the same continent, just a few countries to the north. The New Year found me waiting in line for a visa to gain entry into Uganda. But before I get too far let me rewind and provide a backstory about how I came to find myself in that visa line.

Three and a half years ago I was contacted about a chimpanzee project in Uganda. Working with chimps has always been something I have dreamed of doing. At the time I had recently returned from working on the blue monkey project Kenya. I decided that if I was going to do it, it would be best to return to Africa before too much time had passed and before I completely re-assimilated into a life with refrigeration, reliably fast internet, and instant gratification. In the end, a German woman who studied bonobos in Congo wound up getting the job and I didn’t. Such is life. 

A few months later Jake and I met somewhere out in the Mojave Desert and I quickly forgot about chimpanzees and the jungles of Uganda. My life went in a direction I never thought it would; I left the Midwest for the Southwest, traded primates and jungles for tortoises and deserts, and found the perfect partner to join in my crazy adventures. Well, six months ago the same job found me once again, this time in a different place, both in life and location. They needed someone to join the project immediately for a period of six months. At one point in my life I was able to just drop everything and run off to live in another country without much thought or planning. Unfortunately, it’s not so easy anymore; I suppose that means I’m an adult now. Jake and I were about to purchase a house, I had work commitments lined up for the fall, and was to be the maid of honor in my best friend’s wedding that September. I knew I had to say no, but I couldn’t stop thinking about chimps, living in Africa again, being able to do it over, this time with Jake. So that’s how I got here, the seed was planted, sat dormant for years, and recently it started to grow. We decided that with enough prior notice we could make it work. So this fall Jake and I signed on to the chimp project for six months set to begin in early 2013. I blazed the trail and arrived just minutes before the New Year, while Jake is set join me and the chimps in Uganda this March.

When 2013 hit I had just passed my passport off to the immigration official and without changing tone or looking up at me he said with one breath, “how long will you be in the country, happy New Year.” I never understand why, no matter where you are the people behind the visa counter are always unnecessarily unfriendly. I smiled and replied; he stamped it and placed it back on the counter without once looking up. 

The rest of Entebbe and Kampala made up for the immigration department’s lack of enthusiasm for the New Year. The streets were packed with people. My taxi driver had to dodge drunkards left and right on the way to the hotel. When we finally reached my hotel in downtown Kampala at 1:30 am the party on the streets was still going strong. It continued all night long. I was directly off the street and even my ear plugs couldn’t stop the celebrations. Early the next morning when I emerged from the hotel everyone had disappeared. The entire city was a ghost town. Not a single shop on the street was open. I passed only two people on what would normally be a very busy street. I knew it was a holiday but where could all those people possibly have gone so quickly? They were just here, outside my window, screaming and yelling. I kind of felt lonely and longed to be surrounded by those people who just hours ago I was cursing. The lack of open businesses did not stop me from accomplishing the one thing I needed to do though: find a quiet and quaint guesthouse and get some sleep. Shortly thereafter, I checked into my new room and slept for the next 15 hours. When I woke up the following morning the sun was shining, exotic birds were singing, and I was just in time for breakfast.

Before proceeding to the reserve and the chimps, I had to meet with the director of monitoring and research at the Ugandan Wildlife Authority. Still a bit shaken from being transplanted in a new country I was nervous and uneasy. They had the final say as to whether or not I would be allowed to stay in Uganda and work as a researcher. We contacted them beforehand, submitted all the necessary paperwork, but never received a response, which is pretty typical. As soon as I introduced myself my letter was produced, I paid my fees (which were a bit higher than expected), and was on my way. I couldn’t help but wonder if they ever reject anyone after they have arrived. That would really suck. I quickly shook that thought from my mind. 

The very next morning I made the arduous but necessary bus journey from Kampala to Fort Portal. We passed a bus along the way and at the time it was right side up but I could tell from all the broken windows and looks of horror on my fellow passengers faces that shortly beforehand it was not. At that point I, along with many other people, double checked to make sure my seat belt was fastened securely. Six hours later I was met in Fort Portal by a short smiling Ugandan man wearing an Indiana University t-shirt. Moses has been working on the project for years and he is currently the camp manager, cook, and staff comedian. My bus arrived a few hours late and we were running short on time so we did a whirlwind shopping tour, sorted out some insurance business for the car we hope to pick up next time we make it to town, and headed for the reserve.

It was 9:30 pm by the time we reached the guest lodge in the reserve. I had dozed off and completely missed the entire 70 some km drive, except for the moment the car swerved and jerked to avoid the giant Nile monitor lizard stretched across the road. At the lodge Moses frantically searched for one of the staff to let us in so we could store our freshly butchered meat in the fridge. Knowing that our camp wasn't equipped with such frivolous appliances, I was kind of wondering what we were going to do with 7 kg of raw meat when we bought it in the market, but I just went with it. A fridge in the bush in Africa is hard to come by, but for a lodge that charges over $400 a night for a single room it is a necessity. Someone was finally roused from the staff quarters and they opened the door and gave us access to the fridge. The staff, who have been having a grand time poking fun at the chimp camp for lacking a vehicle, reveled in informing us that our puny insignificant taxi wasn’t going to make it the final 3 km to camp and then begrudgingly offered to give us and our load a lift. Apparently, the road was a mess due to recent rains. My overweight bags and all of our shopping minus the meat were unloaded and reloaded into the lodge’s open safari vehicle and we took off down the muddy track to camp in the dark. We were slipping and sliding, smacking the tall grass as we went, and flushing nightjars along the way. One of the birds flew up from the side of the vehicle and hit me right in the arm. Everyone got a good laugh out of that. I’m taking it as a good luck sign and am hoping that the bird, like me, was not injured.

Upon arrival at Mugiri camp I was thrown directly into the work of chimping. The first few days were spent battling jet lag, learning the trails, getting to know the staff, unsuccessfully searching for chimps, avoiding elephants in the forest, and mainly figuring things out on the fly because the researcher I was scheduled to replace quit the project back in October. The amount of emotions I have felt since arriving have left my body exhausted and my mind confused! There is so much going on, so much to learn and absorb, so many things to be cognizant of and avoid, and months of records to go over and data to enter from the interim in researchers. It’s all very exciting and terrifying and soon it will just be normal day to day life for me. That’s what I love about life here, you are quickly and forcefully thrown out of your comfort zone and once you accept that you end up surprising yourself and enjoying every minute of it. 

Hopefully soon there will actually be stories of chimps to share! 

By the way, National Geographic named Uganda as one of the top tourism destinations for 2013 and we happen to have room for visitors at Mugiri camp...

Happy New Year from the Pearl of Africa,

Corey