A mother and baby gorilla are unperturbed by the proximity of the humans observing them in Parc National des Volcans. (Debra Archambault photograph)
Part Three
The gorilla trek has cost us $375 each, nearly twice the annual salary of a typical Rwandan. Though Rwandans pay less than tourists, of the 1,059 people who took the gorilla trek in November, about one-third were Americans, while 91 were from Rwanda or other African countries, according to statistics at park headquarters.
In her journal, trip leader Cindy Perry later wrote, "We gave out all of the crackers, cookies, Nutella and even a little money as we passed by. The kids were thrilled and excited. It was painfully sad.
"Once at the trailhead, many men, women and children stood and stared as we prepared ourselves for the gorilla trek. It felt wrong to be tightening my new Merrill hiking shoes, (to) wear three layers of shirts, and own a camera, video camera, backpack and clean water. I felt choked by shame and guilt."
The trail skirts fields where women hoe small green patches of land, trying to make a living from farming in Africa's most densely populated country. We enter the jungle and hike uphill on a muddy path through thick vegetation.
After about an hour, our guide tells us to stop and place our backpacks on the ground. With only our jackets and cameras, we trudge up a steep, pathless embankment. The sight of the gorillas less than 20 feet away is a magnificent reward for our labor.