Where Have All The Wildebeest Gone?

The “Great Migration” has finally decided to move along from the Trans-Mara side of the Maasai Mara. Some of you may ask how it is possible to know when this is official, but let me just give you a couple photos to help exemplify my point.

Not more than 1 month ago, it looked like this everywhere:




There are still a few resident wildebeest that you can see around, but not nearly the all-encompassing groups that used to be a mainstay.

However with the wildebeest leaving, some of the other animals are coming back in larger numbers. You can imagine that with a few hundred thousand wildebeest, so come all of the flies and bugs that may get on the nerves of such temperamental animals such as elephants.


Another fun thing about the wildebeest leaving is that the zebras seem to stick around for the peace and quiet. It’s an interesting sight being able to see these black and white animals littering the landscape. Amazingly, it’s nearly impossible to take a bad picture of a zebra. All of my photos of these guys are going straight to National Geographic.

Thirsty Lions

Some of you may already know this, but most of Kenya is in a severe drought. This is affecting crops, livestock, and wildlife within and outside of the parks. Driving back from Nairobi the other day, I couldn’t help but notice how dusty and dry it has become. With many fresh cattle carcasses littering the landscape, I know that many families are going to struggle keeping their livestock going during this next month.

Back at camp, I have a different story to share.

I woke up this morning and looked for a water jug to brush my teeth. Usually, this is just outside of my tent like this:


However, I looked around and could not find it anywhere. Upon closer inspection of the scene of the missing water jug, I saw this:


Yeah, that’s a lion’s footprint. Feeling like a detective, I followed the tracks to find my missing water jug. Finally, I had discovered it, but the lion had already broken in and gotten its fill of delicious H2O. I felt surprisingly accomplished for finding the remains, but a big bummer because this water jug is now out of commission.


Lucky for us in Serena Camp on the western side of the Mara, the short rains are rolling in right now. It’s been raining for the past 3 days; each storm getting progressively larger, longer, and starting earlier in the day.

Maybe now the lions can find their OWN water?

Darting!

What do all of these names have in common?

Rigor, Gelato, Alfredo, Kalamazoo, Legolas, Mork, Tope, Siren, Centaur, Djibouti, Loki, Iwo Jima, Koko, Samburu, and Acorn.

These are all of the spotted hyenas that I’ve darted in my past 12 days here on the other side of the Masai Mara Game Reserve in Kenya. The MSU hyena project, of which I am a Research Assistant for, darts hyenas to gain more information about the demography, health, morphology, and genetics of the free living hyenas that we follow.


To dart a hyena, you drive around the park looking for one that is by themselves, away from standing water, and most importantly lions (some of you may know this, but lions will kill spotted hyenas on sight, just to reduce competition for prey in the ecosystem). You then position yourself to have the best possible shot, free from grass and other things to get in the way, wait for the hyena to look the other way, and pull the trigger.

The drug that we use when darting our hyenas is Telazol. This drug causes them to fall asleep and actually has an amnesic quality to help them forget us and dissipate any grudges that are formed by our vehicles or people in general. Once they are asleep, we measure many parts of their bodies from the size of their feet to the amount of wear on their teeth, and we even take multiple blood samples (which are then processed in the middle of the bush under a tarp; some sterile environment we’ve got?).

From these data, we can gain amazing insight into the populations that we follow. This includes what the paternity is for every cub (how that is, or is not, affected by male dominance/rank), the pervasiveness of rank relations within the clan on body size and condition, understanding into how they are able to be resistant to such hazardous pathogens such as anthrax, and the evolution and development of their skull and bone crushing capabilities.

Needless to say, it’s pretty helpful in our scientific research.


For me one of the most interesting things about darting is that we get to be up close and personal with the animals that we usually only watch at a distance. It creates a completely different connection to our study species.

Pretty neat huh?

Spot that Hyena

I know that is a terrible pun, but I had to run with it.

So considering much of our work depends on identifying individual hyenas, I figured I’d give you a little insight into the daily work of a hyena researcher. But first, a random tangent.

The other day we had just arrived at a den scene where there were only a few animals present. A tour vehicle rolled up next to us and seemed extremely perplexed as they looked through their binoculars and point and shoot digital cameras. Finally, one of them turned to us (thinking that we must certainly know a little more of what is going on, after all, our car does say “Hyena Research” plastered all over the side with nice hyena decals; see camp life post). Now I was expecting some in-depth question about hyena behavior, our research in general, or why female hyenas have, what we call, pseudo-penises. To my surprise, all they wanted to know was the sex of the animal before their eyes, and what the smaller animal was doing to it.

“Oh, that’s a female. They’re nursing.” I replied.

After answering her question, I was met with “You are hyena expert!”

Now I don’t know if I am a hyena expert (yet?), but it was certainly flattering.

Back to ID-ing individual hyenas.

So to many people’s surprise (mine included) the spot patterns on spotted hyenas are very individualistic. Take these two animals for instance:



Clearly, their spot patterns are different. The best part of identifying hyenas is that everyone sees something different in their spots. Just the other day, I saw what I called “a sock puppet,” whereas Jeff, the other hyena research assistant out here saw “a wave crashing on a little dude.”

Other great ways to ID hyenas is through ear damage. Many lower ranking animals will have the scars to prove it (especially on their ears). Take Avalanche here:


He has what we call a right A nick and C notch. If you look closely at his right ear, you can see that some of his ear cartilage is missing.

So who’s ready to ID this animal?


What do you see?

The “Greatest” Migration

The wildebeest have arrived. And when I say “arrived,” I mean they are EVERYWHERE. Literally within a few days they have populated every open plane here in the Mara triangle. The hardest part about the migration is trying to describe it to people that aren’t here in the Mara.


I try to take pictures of large herds of wildebeest and zebra, but they never quite exude the all-encompassing feel/view of what the migration really is. Fortunately, I was able to see a river crossing a couple of weeks ago. To describe it in one word: chaos.


Driving back from a trip to view hyenas, we saw a huge cloud of dust over the river. Being with someone who works for the Mara Conservancy, we were quickly informed that a crossing was taking place. Apparently the wildebeest (being a herd animal) will slowly gather and progress on the landscape until they hit some kind of immovable area (i.e. a river). When this happens, they will build and build until the sheer number of wildebeest in that confined area reach a breaking point. At this moment, they will start moving down the wall of the river and back up again until a lone wildebeest makes a “definitive” movement to the water.

Even if he was going down to get a drink of water, once the rest of the herd feels the mood of the situation changing, they begin to follow the lone wildebeest out front. And after this, the sheer momentum of the crossing takes over the entire herd. Almost like someone pulling the plug out of a bathtub, once you start a crossing, there is nothing stopping it.

Except a lion. Or more precisely, a lioness.

Here is a movie of the exact crossing that I was describing. Enjoy!

http://vimeo.com/5489643

Siafu Invasion!

Alright, I know what you’re thinking.

“David…you live in the bush, aren’t there some things that aren’t so great about being surrounded by wildlife and things that can eat you? All you’ve written about so far are the amazing wildlife and relaxing camp life. Isn’t there anything that you don’t like about being in the bush?”

Of course this is true (see photos of amazing chameleon that walked through camp today and the start of the “great” wildebeest migration; and yes, those are all wildebeest in the background).




However, earlier this week we had a Siafu invasion. First, let me explain to you what Siafu are. Literally I think it translates to “safari ant” in kiSwahili. Basically they are these ants that form lines throughout camp and head off on a safari elsewhere.

And then they bite.


I’ve heard that some local Masai actually use Siafu as a natural way of stitching a wound back together. You place the Siafu at the locality of the wound, let it bite on with its death-grip like pincers, and tear off the body so the head stays in place.

I’m not entirely sure if this is actually practiced, or if they are just messing with me (they do this a lot, like when they tell me how to say a word in kiSwahili and it’s not anywhere close to the actual translation). Either way, when these suckers bite on, it’s darn near impossible to pull them off.


The worst part is, they come at such infrequent times that you forget completely about them and then find yourself standing in one of their lines, becoming entirely covered before you even know what hit you.

Camp Life

So I’ve been getting a lot of questions about what camp life is like and here is the blog post to satiate them.

The car that we use here in the Mara is an amazing little treat. Her name is “Holly” and she can be a bit temperamental at times. However, she has been completely outfitted with some amazing decals.


Here’s our always-refreshing shower. I say always refreshing because no matter what time of day you decide to shower, you always end up with a little bit of cold water.


To make up for this, I usually try to exercise before jumping in. Because we aren’t really allowed to be outside of our camp on foot (for fears of being eaten/stampeded/tusked; see first post), I’ve had to make due with what we have. This means I usually rock out with my iPod and run in place on a trampoline. I know I must look like a 90’s housewife sweatin’ with the oldies, but you can’t beat this view.


Our kitchen is usually stocked well with fresh fruits and vegetables. The mangoes and plantains (bananas) here seem to never go out of season. We occasionally have meat and chicken, but when we do it’s always amazing. We eat quite the variety of meals as well; from pasta to lentils, goat to curry, with great soups and salads in between.


We’re taken really good care of here by our local staff. Philomen (left) and Jorgi (right) help us around camp with a multitude of tasks. Philomen is our amazing cook that we were somehow able to snag away from a local safari lodge, and Jorgi acts as our daytime and nighttime “Askari.” He helps to ward away animals that try to break into camp and steal our delicious leftovers.


All of our electricity for the entire camp comes from solar panels like this. This one panel here powers all of our electrical needs (charging phones/computers, lights around camp etc.). Pretty soon we’ll be getting another one. Who knows what we’ll be able to do with all this clean, renewable power!?


This is our mess tent where we eat all of our meals, with the lab tent in the background. We keep all of our samples and other lab-ish things in the lab tent. Because we have no refrigeration, we use a sweet liquid nitrogen tank to preserve genetic samples. Every time I open it and see the steam come out I can’t help but feel like a mad scientist.


Obviously, everyone wants to know where I sleep. Because nothing in camp is allowed to be permanent, we stay in canvas tents like these. They are surprisingly comfortable and spacious.




Luckily, we always have great cell-phone reception.


I hope this helps to put some at ease on our living situation. Although we’re living in the “bush” we do still have plenty of creature comforts. But you can never get too comfortable and it seems that just when you’re about to, the bush sends something your way. Like this following tale.

Sorry Mom, I know this story will freak you out a tad. Feel free to stop reading this blog post now.

Just yesterday I was sitting in my tent working on this very blog post when I hear something “pawing” at my tent. It was the middle of the day so I thought nothing of it. A lion or hyena wouldn’t be that close to people during the day. I look out my window and see a mongoose staring at me making its alarm call (which I now know what it sounds like). Sitting in my tent and not being able to see what it was alarming me of, I unzipped my tent to take a look outside.

Greeting me was a black mamba snake, clearly one of the most venomous and dangerous snakes in all of Africa (and possibly the world?). In pure shock, I jumped back in my tent and made sure the zippers were closed tightly. Obviously, everything is ok now. But thanks to the bush, I am a little more cautious and aware of my steps (probably a good thing in the long run, even if it only prevents me from stepping in a present left by some large mammal).

PS: I did shave my head.

My Mind has Made the Switch

This morning I awoke almost like any other morning here in Fisi-Camp (Fisi is Swahili for hyena). Amidst the whoops of hyenas, roars and growls of lions, and elephants being their usual destructive selves, I briefly remembered the dream I was having.

Under normal circumstances, it would have been unexciting and very blasé. In this dream I was driving a car, following another car to go do some laundry. I know, sounds boring. However, it wasn’t where I was driving, but how I was driving. In my dream I was sitting on the right side of the car, and driving on the left side of the road. In Kenya, as some of you may know or remember, this is the correct orientation. Different from the states and Mexico (the 2 other places I’ve driven), who both drive on the right side of the road and sit on the left side of the car.

My mind has made the switch; I am now living, thinking, and dreaming on Kenyan terms. My Swahili is improving at a rapid pace, and I’m actually thinking about shaving my hair. This is a huge deal for me considering I’ve never shaved my head, and until now, the thought would never have crossed my mind. But here in Kenya, everyone has shaved heads, and my flowing locks of mahogany actually put some people off.

I can already tell that I’m growing a deep appreciation and connection to this place. I feel very comfortable and at ease. I can’t imagine how hard it will be to say goodbye in April.

PS: Did I tell you I’m having goat tonight for dinner?

Starting Off With a Bang (or technically a roar).

As you know…I’m in Kenya. In Kenya, there are many lions. Shocking as this may be, my interactions and opinions of lions have drastically changed since arriving on this continent.

In the states our interactions are usually limited to seeing them behind a fenced enclosure of sorts at a zoo. And in my experience, they are often doing their predator thing of just relaxing mid-day, knowing that their free meal is shortly on its way. They don’t really have a territory to protect, other lions to worry about, or reasons to fear humans.

Here in Africa, things are a tad different. To exemplify this, I will share with you how I spent last Saturday night.

Jeff (the other guy that I’m working with) and I, along with Dr. Holekamp (the principle investigator of the hyena research), went south of the Mara to help the Striped Hyena camp. Located in Shompole, the landscape resembled an even drier Arizona than I’m used to. Somewhat barren, everything that I had brought along was quickly covered in a few millimeters of dust. But that’s not the exciting part of this story.

Striped hyenas are an endangered and elusive species of hyena that are rarely seen at night. The research that our lab is working on is working to determine a lot of maternal effects and behaviors of them, along with basic biology and ecology of such an elusive mammal. So we had set out at about 3PM to set some traps for these animals. Returning after dark, we had to check all of the traps that we had set.

Lo’ and behold…we caught one!


What a great and lucky experience to have. The handling and release goes great, without a hitch. As we approached our second set of traps to see if we had caught anything, we hear a lions’ roar (which by the way sounds nothing like you’d think it does, MGM has it all wrong). One of the people we’re with says something to the joking effect of, “Oh. That lion was only 10 meters from us.” We all smile. The lion roars again. And this time, it actually was only 10 meters from us.

All of us, feeling the pressure to make a split second decision on how to react to this rapidly approaching predator, turn to Dr. Holekamp. Knowing that she’s been living in the bush for over 20 years studying hyenas must certainly know how to react to a lion that is stalking you. We expect suggestions of, “Dave, you get on Jeff’s shoulders and I’ll make a lot of noise with this clipboard. It will certainly leave us alone.”

However, all we received was, “boys, this isn’t good. Let’s get out of here, leave everything.”

Following our fearless leader, we hurriedly walked through the dark African wilderness to a nearby ranger station. Unbeknownst to us where the lion actually was (hopefully behind us). After the sun came up and the lion was nowhere to be seen or heard, we checked the remainder of our traps, packed them up, and headed home.

And so was my first night of staying in the actual bush. Quite the adventure.