I try not to dwell too long on thoughts of Semliki as I have other things that currently require my concentration, but depsite this I am often aware of a longing to be back in Uganda. As I sit behind desks with piles of books and papers surrounding me I think of how much I'd rather be sat on the decking outside my tent in Semliki, looking out across the patchwork forest and rolling mountains, miles away from the stress of exams and the need to plan my future.
When I chance upon a writing competition being run by the BBC Wildlife Magazine it is therefore with no hesitation that I decide to write about the chimpanzees of Semliki and what was perhaps my most memorable experience with them during my time as a chimpanzee chaser.
Below is the piece that I produced describing this wonderful encounter. I hope that you enjoy it:
The Eyes Have It
Ignoring the thorns that hooked into my shirt and my already-lacerated skin, I fought to get closer to the creatures that had spent the past few hours leading me on a tantalising trail through the forest. By following the sound of snapping branches and the occasional glimpse of black outlines in the interwoven canopy overhead, I was able to clamber and crawl through the thick vegetation after my quarry, working hard to keep up with them as they moved above me with frustrating ease.
Suddenly the noises emerging from the treetops stopped. It seemed that the animals I was pursuing had come to rest in a tree whose trunk stood several metres in front of me. I stopped and crouched low, my pulse racing. For a few minutes nothing happened. The noises of the forest slowly filled the space around me – chirping cicadas, the harsh calls of hornbills and the gentle rustling of branches swaying in the wind. As I waited amongst the tangled vines and sun-dappled buttresses I tried to ignore the burning ache in my thighs and the occasional stabs of pain from the tsetse flies enjoying the taste of my blood. All of my attention was focussed on the gnarled tree in front of me.
After what seemed an age, my eyes were drawn towards movement near the top of the tree. To my delight a leathery grey foot and then a dark, muscular body began to descend the trunk towards my hiding spot. My heart pounded against my ribcage as the creature reached the base of the tree and calmly and deliberately turned to face me. After years of dreaming, months of planning and a long and eventful journey to the Semliki Wildlife Reserve in Uganda, I was finally staring directly into the penetrating eyes of a wild chimpanzee.
As a second, and then a third, chimpanzee slowly and steadily descended in front of me I thought of how lucky I was to see such incredible creatures in their natural habitat. I have been fascinated by animals since childhood, but for a reason I can’t fully explain, primates, and particularly chimpanzees, have always held a special interest for me. As a young girl I used to drag my precious toy monkey around our garden pretending that I was following in the footsteps of Jane Goodall, chasing after ghostly chimpanzees in some far off forest full of exotic wildlife.
As each of the chimpanzees turned to briefly face me my thoughts strayed back along the path that had taken me from my childhood fascination to this incredible encounter. My love of natural history had led me to study Zoology at university and from there to volunteer as a researcher at a chimpanzee project in Uganda. Months of preparation had finally landed me in Uganda’s capital, Kampala, from where I proceeded to travel along bumpy dirt roads, up rolling hills and across snaking rivers to Semliki. I had been crammed like a sardine into dilapidated buses along with locals, luggage and the odd live chicken. I had inhaled vast quantities of dust and diesel fumes on the backs of motorbikes and through the open windows of cars and buses that served as ‘air conditioning’. I had been stranded at the side of bustling Ugandan streets as I waited for lifts to the next stop on my journey; and I had felt a mixture of fear and amazement as I was driven down the incredible, sheer, winding roads of the stunning Rift Valley.
Once in Semliki, I had spent many hours, of many weeks chasing the ever-elusive chimpanzees, up steep escarpments, over churning rivers, through the viciously-barbed forest undergrowth and over large expanses of savannah with its slicing grass and blistering heat, dodging forest elephants and venomous snakes along the way.
Yet now that I was here returning the gaze of the animal that had brought me to Uganda, all thoughts of this toil faded away. Every second of effort catching up with the incredible apes and every step on the trail taken by the young girl playing in the woods to this precious moment had been worth it. Here I was looking into the eyes of an animal that was separated from me by just a few sections of DNA, an animal that I had been mesmerised by for as long as I could remember. And it was every bit as incredible as I had dreamed it would be.
