With only 900 in the world, mountain gorillas are critically endangered, inhabiting the border areas between Uganda, Rwanda and the Democratic Republic of Congo (in comparison, there were only 300 in the wild at the time of Fossey’s death). Out of the three countries, gorilla trekking is most expensive in Rwanda, where 300 of them inhabit Volcanoes National Park. We joined a large gathering of other visitors. Eventually, we were divided into groups of eight, each assigned to two rangers and a gorilla family. Fidel and Kari, the rangers for our group, briefed us on the Ntambara family and trekking rules before we struck out on our hike at 8:30am. Thankfully, we spent the first half-hour on relatively flat terrain, passing through verdant farmland and the rural communities that, according to our guides, are allocated 10% of the gorilla tourism revenue to fund local initiatives (the other 90% goes towards conservation). But upon reaching the entrance to the bamboo forest, the course took a different turn. The pace was manageable, but the steep inclines tested our strength and stamina as we made the arduous ascent with our walking sticks, leaving us breathless (at an altitude that can reach 8,200 feet, this is normal). But we got even luckier: what could’ve been a hike of several hours turned into only 1 1/2. It wasn’t long before we were greeted by rifle-toting trackers who had located the gorillas and with whom Fidel and Kari had been communicating via radio. We were asked to set our packs down and from there on carry only our cameras. We climbed another minute more and, in a small clearing surrounded by lush, green undergrowth, we came upon them: the Ntambara community of gorillas, all 16 of them. Silence fell among our group of trekkers. Spines tingled. A transcendental sense of wonder rose from deep within us. With their machetes, Fidel and Kari slashed away at the obstructing vegetation to improve our visibility. The gorillas didn’t seem to mind. The silverback, the patriarch of the troop, was a behemoth — intimidating even as he rested peacefully. But the fear quickly subsided. A restless youngster climbed from his mother’s shoulders onto the silverback in exactly the same way my nephews did as toddlers with their own parents. Does this sound like anthropormophization? Maybe. But these apes — which share 98% of our DNA — simply are extraordinarily, unbelievably human-like. For a moment, I questioned whether these mysterious, fuzzy black titans of the forest were real. How did they evolve from other primates? Does our evolutionary history make them our cousins? Do they have the same thoughts as we do? The fact is we are connected. Wonderfully, profoundly connected. Our guides led us to another nearby clearing where we located the rest of the gorillas, huddled together and, while aware of our presence, they seemed indifferent to our movements. But then the rambunctious one-year-old Isange tumbled out of his mother’s arms to investigate his visitors. Curious and playful, he rolled and fumbled about as the adults looked on with watchful eyes. Distance had to be maintained between us and our black-furred relatives, but the rule didn’t stop the apes from approaching us. Isange’s mother suddenly moved towards our group, her son hanging off her arm until he lost his grip. I won’t lie; I felt a jolt of trepidation. But Fidel confidently responded with gorilla language — a discerning series of grunts — and she immediately retreated. The interaction didn’t stop Isange from slowly edging closer to us until he was just a few feet before me. I could’ve touched his hand had I extended mine. Between the gasps and oh-my-gods, I think I stopped breathing. He was absurdly adorable. We observed the gorillas for a half-hour more. Then, just like that, our hour came to an end. And then I understood why Dian Fossey couldn’t, after 18 years, pull herself away from the precious subjects of her study that she so fiercely protected and championed. To be in the presence of mountain gorillas in their natural habitat, deep in the forests of central Africa, is a rare, mystifying encounter few people have had the privilege to experience. Now — finally — I can say I’m one of them.