On the Trail in the Forest of Hope
July 31, 2010
Written by Peter Clay, Senior Advisor to GACP
For breakfast, I enjoyed a couple of mugs of sweetened Igikoma (a kind of porridge made from wheat, soy and sorghum) that Jean-Pierre provided, along with some juice, cheese and bread that I had brought up from Gisenyi. Rwamucyo came by at saa tatu (three o’clock in Swahili time, 9 AM for abazungus, which is the local name for white people), and we headed off for the forest. With just the two of us, travel seemed easy and the chance to stop to take in a view or ponder the meaning of a forest scene was possible and, for me, much appreciated. Although it threatened rain during the afternoon, the rain never arrived and I enjoyed the walk immensely. It felt much like a late summer’s walk in a North American temperate woodland, with a cool and refreshing morning breeze and dry leaves rustling underfoot on the trail. The large brown seeds of Carapa grandiflora, or Umushwati, the tree from which the Gishwati forest receives its name, were abundant on the trail. In fact, there were so many of these impressive, chestnut-like seeds that it was challenging not to loose one’s footing. They were like so many large brown ball bearings underfoot.
I chose a trail parallel to but higher than the usual return loop from the waterfall as it gives wide and far-reaching views of the forest across the Pfunda River valley. The majestic Symphonia globulifera trees, known locally as Umushishi, soar to between 30 and 40 meters (90 to 120 feet) above the forest floor. They show what the undisturbed forest canopy height probably was in the past and provide habitat for purple-breasted sunbirds, which find something special amidst the candelabra-like branches of these large trees. Perhaps the sunbirds are seeking the nectar from Umushishi’s red flowers.
The trail joined the regular tourism trail at the waterfall, where we had lunch. Afterward we walked in the Pfunda River itself for about an hour, beginning from below the falls. I wanted to see the forest from this perspective. Rebecca (Dr. Rebecca Chancellor, our chimpanzee scientist) had told me that prior to cutting the trail system that now provides access to most areas of the Gishwati forest, her field team had used the river itself as a trail and that it afforded some lovely views of Gishwati. Along the way the giant tree ferns or ibishigishigi (pronounced: eebeeshe-geeshegee) loomed overhead and a myriad of multi-colored butterflies danced in the sunlight or alighted on the river’s sparkling mica-flecked rocks and mud banks, perhaps seeking salts or other nutrients. I wondered who might come someday to study these beautiful butterflies, called Ikinyugunyugu in the Kinyarwanda language (pronounced: eekeeNEEYOOgoo-NEEYOOgoo). Gishwati is still a forest of surprising and unexpected beauty. From the “Zen spots” on the Pfunda River, where water and rocks have carved sacred spaces for moments of contemplation, to the dramatic appearance of a mountain monkey next to the trail in a Myrianthus holstii tree, or an encounter with the ancient looking three-horned chameleons that only the sharpest eyes will likely see, this is a forest worth visiting, worth protecting and worth restoring.
Tomorrow: an unexpected meeting with chimpanzees.
