“We feel surrounded by forest spirits who appear and disappear at their pleasure. Unseen, they look at us, controlling without effort their distance from us. We feel like intruders in a world that is not ours, one we do not belong to, clumsy and unable to move effectively; easily lost.”
It’s dawn. After a warm night and a regenerating breakfast made of coffee, chapati and fruit jam we take the camp down and load the gear onto the truck that is already on to warm up the diesel engine. From Mikumi, a small and uninspiring town between Morogoro and Iringa we head for the Udzungwa
Mountains National Park (UMNP). The mountains,
which rise from the flat and fertile Kilombero Valley, reach their
highest elevation at 8461ft (2579m), with Mount Luhombero, and are
covered by a lush primary forest that scientists estimate to be more
than 30 million years old. UMNP is a place of primary importance for
biodiversity and many endemic species that call this place home, have
been recently identified and studied.UMNP is easily reached from Mikumi by taking the southbound road to Ifakara, just outside the village. After about 19miles (30km) of paved road along green rolling hills and a narrow bridge over the Great Ruaha River
, the pavement ends and the usual African track of dirt and rocks
begins and, together with dust and potholes, requires travelers to slow
down their pace and conform to the usual drawn out African time. The
16miles (25km) between Kidatu and the park headquarter require about an
hour drive and are dotted with small villages, furnaces for the
construction of mud bricks, scattered huts and farmed fields. |
| ...on the road to the Udzungwa Mountains National Park, southern Tanzania |
We stop often as the desire and the pleasure of meeting the locals win over the hurry of arriving at our destination. Hurry… a concept which we try to completely remove from our thoughts. After all, we travel without fixed programs or schedules, however, being typical westerners, we find it somewhat of a challenge to do so. We are here to capture pictures of an endemic species of primates on behalf of the Tanzania Tourist
Board and we have no timetable. All we know is that someone is
waiting for us at the park headquarters. They have been warned of our
arrival weeks ahead, but no one has mentioned any specific date.“There will be someone waiting for you”. That is what we were told.
Nothing more; end of instructions! This is the way it works, and what is most surprising to discover is that in the end it really works!
We arrive early afternoon at the park headquarters, introduce ourselves and show the letter of accreditation from the Ministry of Natural Resources and immediately the employees come to life. A few more minutes and we are greeted by the park’s chief warden and by two rangers who are to be our guides in the protected area. They take us to a special camp in the forest, where we mount our tents for the night, surrounded by a busy and noisy multitude of curious baboons. Tomorrow we will wake up before sunrise and leave in search of the Sanje Mangabeys, a new primate species discovered recently and which lives exclusively in this area.
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| A guaranteed method to break ice with kids everywhere in Africa. Showing them their pictures in the camera LCD viewer! |
A call in the forest (short story of a discovery):
The Sanje Mangabeys have lived in the shelter of the Udzungwa Mountains forest from time immemorial, known only to the local populations. However, due to the lack of a strong written tradition, their existence was never documented. The official discovery of this group of primates is credited the anthropologist Katherine Homewood and her coworker Alan Rogers in 1979. During a survey in the forest, for the first time they heard the call of the Mangabeys, a type of primate that, as far as anyone knew at that time, did not live in the area. Homewood and Rogers investigated thoroughly, stimulated by that clue, and were able to contact a local who kept a specimen as a pet. They asked to see the animal and with much surprise and elation they understood to be facing the discovery of a new species of primates, the Sanje Mangabeys indeed, an endemic species that live only here and which we know today survive only a few thousand individuals.
Along the lines of the tracking programs of gorillas and chimpanzees, in the last fifteen years the park has identified a particular group of Sanje Mangabeys, and thanks to the daily work of a patient group of ranger-trackers who follow the monkeys as they move, these primates have gradually become accustomed to human presence. The result of this laudable project is that, since 2007, UMNP visitors can observe, at relatively short distance, the Mangabeys, a normally secretive and extremely difficult to approach species.
We wake up at dawn. The still and warm
air of the night covers like a blanket the surrounding forest, still
quiet and sleepy. Our trackers have already been out in the forest for a
couple of hours, following the Njokamoni group and are in constant
radio contact with our guid who is waiting for us at the Njokamoni
trailhead.
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| Starting out at the Njokamoni trailhead |
We hit the trail burdened by the weight of our photographic equipment.
The trail becomes steep and strenuous quickly, but the sight of a group
of elephants in a clearing gives us the enthusiasm to continue despite
the heat, weight and fatigue. After about two hours of hiking, we reach
our trackers. We are told that the monkeys are everywhere around us but
despite all efforts we do not see anything. All we hear are the thuds of
wild mangoes hitting the ground after being consumed by their invisible
eaters. There is nothing we can photograph in these conditions,
therefore we decide to move on, hoping to find a more suitable spot. We
leave the trail and we start climbing the steep slopes of the mountain.
The soggy soil, covered by a thick layer of dead leaves, makes progress
very difficult and exhausting. Occasionally, we are able to glimpse some
monkeys in the trees in front of us, but it’s always too high, too
distant and too brief. We feel surrounded by forest spirits who appear
and disappear at their pleasure. Unseen, they look at us, controlling
without effort their distance from us. We feel like intruders in a world
that is not ours, one we do not belong to, clumsy and unable to move
effectively; easily lost.
We are a little disappointed but our trackers invite us to continue with
firm and reassuring hand gestures. We are invited to trust and be
patient. After another grueling climb, after more than half an hour of
pointless and taxing endurance up the steep sides of the mountain, we
reach, exhausted, a small, level, clearing. We stop here and we
seriously consider going back. Everything seems to suggest that today
the monkeys are considering not showing up.
But our trackers persuade us once more. According to them, it is all under control. According to them, it is time to sit quietly and to wait patiently. We sit together and we keep silent. The tranquility of the forest envelopes us like a cloak. An hour passes without absolutely anything happening. Then gradually, but distinctly, the sounds of the monkeys start approaching. On some far away branches we discover individuals watching closely, suspicious and wary. With binoculars we observe distinctly some members of the group. It’s already a great thrill, but even more exciting is discovering that, little by little, the entire Njokamoni group is closing in. With wild animals this is usually the case.
But our trackers persuade us once more. According to them, it is all under control. According to them, it is time to sit quietly and to wait patiently. We sit together and we keep silent. The tranquility of the forest envelopes us like a cloak. An hour passes without absolutely anything happening. Then gradually, but distinctly, the sounds of the monkeys start approaching. On some far away branches we discover individuals watching closely, suspicious and wary. With binoculars we observe distinctly some members of the group. It’s already a great thrill, but even more exciting is discovering that, little by little, the entire Njokamoni group is closing in. With wild animals this is usually the case.
They need time to realize and to digest the fact that humans not always
pose a threat. Once the trust is earned, the animal itself will become
naturally attracted to us and it will begin to approach. After another
hour or so, we are literally surrounded by the entire group, quietly
resting on the branches around us, just a few feet away. We have the
rare opportunity to observe their behavior at close range and to take
thousands of photographs under ideal conditions. We observe the adults
constantly busily extracting the pulp from wild mangoes; we look at the
youngsters playing and chasing on the branches at lightning speed. Then
the entire group falls quiet. The adults find a spot on the branches and
slowly fall asleep. The little ones get close to their mothers and
subside, reassured by the physical contact with the adults.
It was worth waiting; it was worth sweating on the trail. We are in the middle of the forest surrounded by the silence and peace that only unspoilt natural places can convey and, above all, we are at the feet of a large group of seldomly seen primates resting around us, ones who have accepted our alien presence to the point of ignoring us and falling asleep.
It was worth waiting; it was worth sweating on the trail. We are in the middle of the forest surrounded by the silence and peace that only unspoilt natural places can convey and, above all, we are at the feet of a large group of seldomly seen primates resting around us, ones who have accepted our alien presence to the point of ignoring us and falling asleep.
Written by Giorgio Trucco and Koko Kosila