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2020 sound recording expedition to Kenya

I keep looking over my shoulder as I’m setting up my rig in a dead Acacia tree. The last thing I want to see now is a lion, a buffalo or a hippo. Technically I’m not allowed to exit the vehicle in Tsavo National Park, and for good reason. The density of big wildlife here is impressive.

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The only way to get decent recordings of this beautiful landscape is by using drop rigs, which I can’t do by poking my head out of the car window. I have now become a master at setting up drop rigs fast and inconspicuously. It takes me less than 15 seconds from the time I leave the vehicle until I’m back inside.

It’s September 2020 and I’m in Kenya for a two week sound recording expedition. I’m here to record the typical sounds of nature and wildlife in the savanna. It’s my first proper field recording project since Borneo in January and lockdown has not been easy on my mental wellbeing. The trip was rather hastily planned and organised, and everything was uncertain until the moment I got here at Tsavo. There was pressure and stress from the requirement for a negative Covid test, the technical issues getting an e-visa, any possible exposure on the flight here and even having a high body temperature in country (as everywhere there seems to be someone in charge of checking this).

Tsavo National Park

Once I arrive at Tsavo National Park all these uncertainties seem to fade away. We spotted some wildlife on the way here but nothing compares to seeing lions, buffalo, elephants, zebras, antelope and a variety of birds congregating at water holes in the savanna.

I’m the only guest at the lodge I’m staying at. It feels a bit surreal to have all this place for myself, but I’m happy as I can make clean and immersive recordings without having a hundred safari vehicles pollute the soundscape with their noise. The pandemic has not been great news for anyone working in tourism but wildlife and nature welcomed this break. It certainly seems the case here in the Kenyan savanna.

I’m at Tsavo for about a week so I spend the first few days getting the lay of the land. I don’t record much, but I drive around with Ken who knows the place and we keep our eyes and ears out for possible recording spots. One day we see a Verreaux’s eagle owl hanging out in a tree so I decide to leave my rig just below it. Fortunately the owl comes back at night and I capture a beautiful selection of territorial calls.

As previously mentioned, the biggest issue at Tsavo is that we’re not allowed out of the vehicle. This matter has completely slipped my mind in the chaos of the preparations and hiring a local ranger isn’t possible due to the pandemic. The next best thing is to scout my locations very carefully and to be lightning fast as I set up the rigs. It’s incredibly dangerous and I don’t advise anyone to do it.

Some days I have 4 or 5 rigs out at any given time. This means exiting the vehicle 8 or 10 times. In certain places it’s easier than in others, especially when there’s good visibility all around. The best place however (Kanderi swamps) is also the most dangerous as that’s where several lion prides like to hang out and there are bushes and trees everywhere.

The other issue at Tsavo is troops of roving baboons. They’re hungry, curious and don’t care much for other people’s property. They find one of my rigs and proceed to wrecking it hoping they’ll find food in there. They obviously don’t, but they kill a dry bag and a pair of Lom mikroUsi microphones in the process. Luckily I have several pairs of extra mics so this isn’t a huge setback.

After a few failed attempts, I eventually get decent recordings of lions roaring. I also capture elephants and hippos calling loudly at water holes. Wind is a big problem during the day but it seems to die down around dusk so at least I get some decent nighttime ambience. One evening, after I’ve set up all the rigs, we’re heading back towards camp when I see the moon rising behind the trees. Immediately afterwards I spot a few giraffes so I ask Ken to put the car in reverse so I can line up the moon with the giraffes. Unbelievable, after a bit of back and forth I manage to get exactly the shot I had in mind.

The days go by incredibly fast and I can’t believe it’s soon time to leave Tsavo. The landscapes here have been amazing, the wildlife sightings out of this world, and the soundscapes just beautiful. This is a place I definitely want to return to.

Lake Naivasha

On my way from Tsavo to the Masai Mara I make a brief stop at Lake Naivasha. It’s not a great place to do sound recording because of the myriad boats and the various villages nearby, but it’s definitely a good spot for photography and for immersing myself into the day to day life of this part of Kenya. I book a dawn cruise on the lake which starts two hours late because of miscommunication and a flooded quay.

Eventually we get out on the water and find good numbers of pelicans, fish eagles, wetland birds and kingfishers. On the island in the middle of the lake we spot giraffes and other big mammals. This turns out to be a decent spot for sound recording, if only I wasn’t supposed to leave by midday. The big numbers of wildlife are good news, although not everything is rosy.

The few fishermen I encounter on my boat trip talk about an invasive algae that is taking over these lakes. This makes fishing way more difficult and has an adverse effect on the local wildlife populations. Another thing that threatens their livelihoods is the constantly rising levels of water in the entire lakes region. While that normally shouldn’t be an issue, it’s so bad that the flooding threatens businesses, homes and livelihoods.

Add to this the sudden lack of tourism revenue caused by the pandemic and you can understand how much worse life has become for people living here. Most of them now work for a Dutch enterprise growing tulips for export, but the conditions there are dismal even for this part of the world and the pay is laughably low. It’s easy to see but quite sobering to realise how big a difference tourism made for these people before the pandemic.

Masai Mara

Just about halfway through my trip to Kenya I arrive at Mara North, a private conservancy on the edge of Masai Mara National Park. It’s decidedly different from my experience at Tsavo for a few obvious reasons. First of all, the landscape here is green and lush as opposed to the ochre dirt at Tsavo. Secondly, being at a private conservancy means I have a Masai guide accompanying me everywhere and as a result I can exit the vehicle whenever I want to.

William (the guide) has experience working with film crews so he doesn’t need a lot of explaining before he can take me to the best places for sound recording. He also takes me on walking safaris around the unfenced camp. It’s a bit daunting at first to be walking right where I saw lions hours before, but he says it’s fine and I shouldn’t be worried.

It feels exhilarating and liberating to be walking in the savanna after being conditioned to think about being on foot as dangerous. It’s also a bit stressful as my senses become incredibly acute. It takes me a while to let go and just trust that I’ll be fine, but in the process I realise how much I’m in the moment without ever thinking about anything that isn’t my immediate surroundings. It’s a welcome break from distractions, social media, work, lockdown etc.

Another consequence of being so alert is that my brain isn’t too selective with the things I hear. In normal situations, irrelevant parts of the soundscape would just be discarded on their way to the auditory cortex. During my walking safari, the entire soundscape is in focus. My footsteps seem hugely magnified even as I try to be as quiet as possible. The insect chorus is pretty sparse during the day but it seems impossible to ignore. Soft wind in the grass and leaves sounds like a jet engine. Distant hyenas yelping or buffalo grunting seem to be picked up with huge parabolae instead of just my ears. It’s an intense but incredibly immersive experience to which a safari in a vehicle pales in comparison.

Since the conservancy is outside the Masai Mara national park, I have to plan for a few days of park exploration and recording. Joined by Ken and a local Masai guide, I leave early before dawn so we can arrive there before the daytime heat chases wildlife away from the grassland and into dens or cover. We have idyllic breakfasts in the savanna swatting away flies and listening to distant hippos in the river. The sightings are breathtaking and include all so-called big 5 game plus a host of other mammals, birds and reptiles.

Recording with drop rigs in the Masai Mara proves a little less straightforward. The nearby and contiguous Serengeti derives its name from the Masai words for “endless plains”. It’s no surprise that places where I can hide recording equipment are scarce. The occasional tree or bush that we happen upon is very exposed and does not harbour much wildlife. Riverside looks a bit more promising but difficult to reach because of grumpy pods of hippos.

It takes me a whole day of driving around to come up with a plan. We eventually find a few spots along the Mara river where the bank is wooded and high enough so that hippos can’t take us by surprise. I set up a couple of rigs in trees overlooking the river where the sound of the water flowing isn’t overpowering everything else.

Something I’ve had on my mind for a while is tree climbing. I grew up climbing trees in the countryside and I’ve also done some bouldering a few years back so I can put this knowledge to good use. At Tsavo I climbed a very easy tree overlooking the local waterhole but the recordings there were pretty underwhelming because of wind and man-made noise from the lodge. The Masai Mara seems like a better opportunity so I decide to leave a recording rig in a tree for a couple of days.

I also record at Leopard Gorge which is a 10-15 minute drive from the lodge and is reasonably sheltered from man-made noise. The recordings are a bit of a mixed bag since during the day it’s pretty windy but I still manage to capture a good amount of quality soundscapes.

Beyond recording wildlife and nature, I also get a chance to visit a local Masai village and to record daily life there. Initially it feels a bit touristy and staged as they sing traditional songs for me, but slowly I realise this used to be one of the ways they were making up for stopping the practice of hunting altogether.

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Conservation

The places I’ve seen in Kenya so far look like good examples of conservation. Tsavo is patrolled by rangers and fenced in part, so even if it’s immense it still feels like wildlife is kept in. Nairobi NP which I’ve seen in passing is much smaller and fenced as well. Masai Mara on the other hand barely has any fences so wildlife is free to move between the national park and conservancies in both Kenya and Tanzania.

One thing I wasn’t happy to see is cattle within the park boundaries. Apparently it belongs to a local politician and since the Mara is under the authority of the Narok council, no-one can do anything about it. Mixing cattle and wildlife is never a good idea and leads to human-wildlife conflict, disease spreading, persecution and many others.

The village elder who speaks some English tells me the story of how they stopped hunting lions and wildlife in general a few decades prior. Many of the tribe’s men were tasked with hunting, so much so that they were living in the savanna and only occasionally came back to the village to trade. As they decided to switch from hunting to more sustainable practices like cattle herding, the hunters suddenly lost a big part of their identity. Many of them resorted to alcohol as a way to deal with it, and unfortunately no-one was qualified to help ease the transition.

Fortunately, the situation is more positive nowadays. Before the pandemic the village would welcome tourist groups every day. The income generated this way is shared with nearby villages and used to build schools, clinics and other infrastructure. The pandemic has had a big impact on this, but they’ve never relied solely on tourist income so they can still survive, although the infrastructure projects have had to be put on hold.

Kenya has been a beautiful immersion into wilderness and wide spaces after more than half a year of lockdown. It has been a fascinating and humbling experience, made even more exciting by the lack of tourists. I have no doubt I will soon return here.

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