by Rob McNeil

Mention Rwanda to anyone these days and the first word they will think of is 'genocide'.

But my trip to the country 12 years after the atrocities with which the country has become synonymous reveals a country filled with joy, reconciliation and – in one tiny patch of forest at least – mountain gorillas.

I was lucky enough to visit the tiny central African state with the crew from Extinct, where they were visiting the International Gorilla Conservation Programme (IGCP) – a project funded by WWF, with out partners Fauna and Flora International and the African Wildlife Foundation, that is saving both the gorillas and the desperately poor people who live around them.

Day one Our first day in Rwanda allows us to grasp, for the first time, quite how beautiful this country – known as the "land of a thousand hills" – really is.

At every turn in the two-hour journey between the capital, Kigali, and the Virungas National Park – the range of steep volcanoes where the mountain gorillas live and which separate Rwanda from Uganda and the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) – a stunning new view opens up of the undulating patchwork of small fields that makes up this small country.

Arriving at the Virunga Lodge after bouncing along rocky tracks in a 4x4 for nearly an hour was a relief, and the view across the Virungas and a series of lakes is staggering.

One thing that really stands out, though, is the stark line between the farmland and the forests on the volcanoes. Agriculture stops right at the edge of the forest, and sometimes farmers who live around the park boundary will move into the protected area to grow more food. These are desperately poor people and the small plots of land that provide them and their families with their entire supply of food are sometimes only a few square metres.

Maryke Gray from IGCP explains to me: "A critical part of our work is finding alternative sources of income for these people so that they aren't forced to use the forest either for agriculture or for other purposes that might degrade it. This patch of forest is really very small, but it is a critical ecosystem not just for gorillas but for lots of other species that only live here too."

Day two starts early, but the difficulty of rising at 5am is immediately forgotten when we see the staggering sunrise over the lakes and the puffs of cloud over the volcanoes.

We head down to the village of Kinigi, where the local headquarters of the Rwandan tourist and national parks office (ORTPN) are based, and where the specially trained guides meet the groups of tourists that they are due to take to see the gorillas.

There are about 60 people here today, each paying US$375 for this chance of a lifetime. The money goes straight back into gorilla conservation and the protection of the park.

We are then taken off to an area of the Gishwati forest, which involves a few hours of driving along roads so bumpy that master-mariners would find themselves feeling queasy. The 'forest' is a depressing sight – completely bare of trees and now nothing more than a patchwork of fields. "This was all cut down a few years ago by illegal settlers who crossed over from the Democratic Republic of Congo," explains Maryke. "There were no gorillas here, but there were lots of other species of endangered animals, and the loss of the forest is a real blow. The people who cut this forest down were desperate and hungry – and these things are happening to the gorilla forest too – just a couple of years ago we lost a huge chunk of forest on the Congo side of the park to agriculture. It's one of the reasons that we have been building a big wall around the park."

Travelling to the wall itself gives to a clear picture of the desperation for land. Every square inch, right to the edge is filled with potatoes, pyrethrum (a type of flower used as an insect repellent), maize beans and other foodstuffs and cash crops.

As soon as we arrive we are surrounded by local school children, trying to sell us pictures they have drawn of the gorillas and asking us for pencils, paper, our empty water bottles and any other things they can take home and use. For these kids, even an empty plastic water bottle is wealth.

Day three is another early start, but this time we are heading into the forest ourselves, not to see the gorillas, but instead to meet a type of primate – the golden monkey – that only lives in the forests of the Virungas. They live in much the same habitat as the gorillas, so getting up here gives us a good idea of the sort of filming conditions that the crew will face when they return for the gorilla filming.

Even walking to the edge of the forest is exhausting work – straight up the side of the volcano. As soon as we get into the forest it gets even more challenging, with slippery muddy terrain and dense undergrowth. Some of the members of the film crew, who carry extra loads, find the walking particularly challenging. To make matters worse, the stinging nettles are agonisingly painful – even through thick trousers – and all too plentiful.

After forcing our way through the thick bamboo at the higher altitudes, our guide suddenly stops and points to the branches of an overhanging tree. Suddenly monkeys seem to be everywhere, leaping out of trees and whipping through the bamboo clumps. There are about 60 of them in the troop; they have delightful faces and are very inquisitive about us. After an hour of delighted filming and photography we head back down the volcano to our hotel, with the film crew realising what a daunting task it is going to be to film the gorillas in this extremely harsh environment.

Day four sees us meeting with the Widows' Solidarity Fund, whose husbands and sons were park workers killed while protecting the gorillas; and another group – poachers who have stopped hunting in the park and are trying to make their living from other methods. The widows struggle to survive after the loss of their husbands in this rather male-dominated society, and the solidarity fund was set up with the help of IGCP to help them to diversify their income, often through crafts to sell to gorilla tourists. We also talk to the ex-poachers about how they are managing to earn money without poaching. They are clearly struggling, and most say that they are tempted to start hunting in the park again. These men have never hunted gorillas, but the snares they set for other animals often kill and maim gorillas – especially the babies.

Later in the day we travel to the village to meet the families of two of the widows and look around their homes – with a view to taking our celebrity to stay with them when he or she comes out. They are incredibly basic. A structure of branches and sticks, covered in dried mud – dirt floors and only two rooms: one for the goats, the other for the family. There is no running water, electricity, gas or any other modern convenience and all fuel for cooking is wood – another pressure on the forest. Improving these people's lives will reduce their dependence on the forest and help the gorillas to survive.

Day five and we meet up with representatives from some of the other organisations working to ensure that the last 700 mountain gorillas in the world survive and – if possible – increase in number. One of the veterinary projects is particularly key as it treats gorillas that have been injured by snares or have picked up diseases – sometimes from people in the park.

The concerns about people passing on diseases to the gorillas are well founded – there are many cases of the animals getting ill with human complaints. While the tourists that go into the park to see gorillas are carefully screened – and refused access if they are exhibiting symptoms of contagious illnesses – the locals who go into the park either to hunt illegally, or collect water or firewood are often carrying illnesses, from diarrhoea and skin complaints to measles and colds.

We also travel in the afternoon to Murumbai, a genocide memorial where 50,000 people were killed in 1994.

We are shown around by Peter, one of only four people to survive the massacre, and a man who still has a large hole in his head from the bullet that failed to kill him.

It is a strange and frightening experience, and the many hundreds of preserved bodies that are on display are a terrifying reminder of the atrocities that are so recent, and yet so easily forgotten in this now peaceful and seemingly united land. Peter tells us that after witnessing what he has, life has no more relevance for him, and he is just waiting to die.

Day six means returning home, with a vastly changed view of this beautiful country. The resounding message that we all travel home with is that the gorillas are providing as much help to the people of Rwanda as the people of Rwanda are providing to the gorillas.

The revenue that they bring is a lifeline for many of the world's very poorest people, and the land that they occupy protects the agricultural land that surrounds it, but as much as anything else these animals help to ensure that despite all that has happened Rwanda has a proud future ahead of it, in which conservation and development will often be indistinguishable from one another.