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by Jan Brelih
May 10, 2024 | Andaman and Nicobar Islands, India
Until the 19th century, only indigenous tribes inhabited these islands, each with their own language and (largely unknown) origins. For generations, they lived in harmony with the islands’ pristine forests and abundant marine resources, isolating themselves from the outside world and often being hostile to foreigners The arrival of mainland Indian settlers, however, greatly impacted their lives, posing significant challenges. While many have assimilated into mainstream society, others have faced displacement from their ancestral lands, losing their culture and connection to the land. Some tribes, like the Jarawa and Sentinelese, still remain isolated in the jungle.
These islands, part of a submerged mountain range connecting Asia and Australia, are a biodiversity hotspot. They’re home to numerous endemic species found nowhere else on Earth. The indigenous languages spoken here, including those of the Great Andamanese, Onge, Jarawa, and Sentinelese, are considered among the oldest and most isolated in the world.
The tribes possess incredible knowledge of their environment, from hunting techniques to the medicinal uses of local plants. However, their way of life faces constant threats from modernization and environmental changes.
"The tribes today account for only 9% of the total population. Most of them have been overtaken by the modern world while others such as Jarawa and Sentinelese are remaining isolated in the region."
The Sentinelese are an uncontacted tribe living on North Sentinel Island in the Indian Ocean. They reject all contact with outsiders and have been known to attack anyone who comes near. Survival International advocates for their right to remain uncontacted to prevent the spread of diseases that could wipe out the entire tribe. The Indian government has abandoned plans to contact the Sentinelese, and all visits to North Sentinel are strictly illegal to protect the tribe's isolation. We could say they have been blessed with geographic position living on a small island West from the main Andamans where the civilization had no interest to spread to.
The second and last (semi-untouched) tribal group after the Sentinelese is called Jarawa, a Pygmy Negrito people, with about 450 of them left living a Stone Age hunter-gatherer lifestyle. They had populated the South and North Andaman Islands, living completely isolated from the outside world. When the Indian government decided to construct a highly controversial road connecting South Andaman to the north, their degradation started. The road, still today, cuts right through the middle of their territory (jungle). After deadly attacks with arrows at workers and buses transporting local people, the Jarawas started to visit the road more "peacefully," where people passing by were giving them food. It went so far that local tour agencies developed so-called "human safari" tours for tourists to see and interact with Jarawas on the road. Years later, the Indian government banned stopping and taking photographs of Jarawas on the road. Today, vehicles noisly traverse this road escorted in a convoy. Some of the Jarawas have gotten used to the easy food, so they keep coming and staying there regularly. During these times, you barely see any of them on the road. According to my research, speaking to different local people, the Indian government is behind the scenes giving Jarawas some basic food ingredients (who knows what else) in exchange for not coming to the road. The situation is far from a positive one, and the road is still open. The Jarawa face threats such as exploitation by poachers, settlers encroaching on their land, and the spread of diseases.
The Onge tribe has been studied ethnobotanically, showing similarities with other Southeast Asian Negrito races. They use(d) plants for various purposes such as bows and arrows, dugouts, fibers, food, medicines, and shelter. The Onge call the island Egu Belong and have been living there for a long time. Their population has decreased significantly over the years due to contact with settlers. The Onge now live in a reserve on the Northern part of the island, facing challenges such as deforestation and competition for resources with settlers. Developmental programs among the Onge have not been successful, leading to concerns about their survival The tribal inhabitants of Little Andaman have lost their natural habitat due to logging and outside human influence. The settlement is positioned in the northern part of the island and is inaccessible to the public. When a deadly tsunami struck the island in 2004, it was feared they have not survived. When the authorities came to check, they were all okay and alive. While the Indian settlers rushed to the ocean with retreated water to grab the fish, the Onge ran into the jungle. From their ancestral knowledge, they knew that, when the ocean retreats, a tsunami is coming.
The Great Andamanese tribe were once the most numerous of the five major groups in the Andaman Islands, with an estimated population between 2,000 and 6,600, but due to various factors, their population declined significantly. Today they are less than 50 surviving members. They have acclimatized to mainstream culture and language, leading to a new perception of the world. Due to significant socio-economic changes, cross-cultural marriages have occurred among the tribe, with 13 non-tribal marital alliances as of March 2019. The population of the Great Andamanese has declined significantly over the years due to various factors such as diseases introduced by outsiders, low birth rates, and inter-tribal clashes.
Wild coastline near Chidiya Tapu, South Andaman
All the locations that I have managed to visit and learn about firsthand through self-exploration, documenting the sounds over almost 3 months. You can listen to audio samples from each location.
Baratang Island lies approximately 100km north of Port Blair. You can reach the island either by ferry or by taking the trunk road with this local bus, as I did. This place is the closest you can officially come to today's Jarawa territory, and when in convoy, you are even passing their actual territory. I was reluctant to use the road, but it was my only opportunity to learn about the situation there and be one of the first people to document the sounds of this area. The entire area, just across the sea channel, remains off-limits to any approach. After the island, the road continues north through the dense jungle, with occasional villages along the way. There, you might even find some Jarawas who traded their forest life for living in the modern world. I have found some very good jungle paths that you can hike on and experience the deeper parts of the forest.
Little Andaman is one of the biggest islands positioned by itself, 95km south of Port Blair. It is the most South Island a foreigner can officially visit; any others further down (Nicobars) are restricted and can be accessed only by locals. The western part of the island is completely wild, with no villages or infrastructure, while the east has some population and infrastructure. Thick jungles cover most of the island, meeting some of the wildest and pristine tropical beaches I have ever seen. This was my favorite of all the places and the longest time I have been in Andamans, simply because of its remoteness and wilderness. It also felt like the least controlled and restricted island for free movements and any adventure activities you seek to do. It has a rich biodiversity with many bird species, snakes and crocodiles teeming in the swamp areas.
A coastline area in the very south of South Andaman is just 17km from Port Blair. It boasts some of the island’s best resorts and is renowned for bird watching due to its abundant bird species population. Although it is more visited by people, it does not disappoint, and the bird activity was one of the highest here.
Havelock, also known as Swaraj Dweep, is the most (and almost only) famous and visited island in all of Andaman. Actually, only some (mostly Indian) tourists come to visit, and the tourism industry has developed a bit. Nevertheless, I have studied and seen some wild parts of the island on the map, so as I wanted to document as much as possible, it was one of my chosen destinations. Additionally, the monsoon season was still in progress, ensuring the area remained uncrowded during my visit. I explored and documented the northern part of the island, where you can still find some virgin jungle and even preserved mangroves.
Colinpur is the name of a small town and beach located only about 27 kilometers from Port Blair. The village sits close to the wild coastline, encircled by dense jungle. Positioned on the very south edge of Jarawa territory, the area is already more sensitive regarding access. Once I reached the end of a village road, there was a guardpost, and the guard immediately came out to tell me I should go back. I ended up spending a few days at the only accommodation (resort), which provided a great base for the sound documentation of the area. There was also an accessible mangrove that I found and carefully ventured into. This was the first place with vast mangroves, and it was a perfect location to capture sounds.
This is an isolated bay about 50km north-east of Port Blair. You pass through the local villages, fishing spots, huge mangrove swamps, and dense jungles, following a small road that eventually brings you to this remote corner of the island. It is one of those places a normal tourist would never venture to alone. I drove with my scooter and my recording gear all the way from Port Blair to here, not knowing what to expect except the local warning for the crocodiles. It turned out to be an ideal location for discovering an undisturbed ecosystem. A completely wild river flowed through the mangroves and into the beach. Some local fishermen have been offering to take you and your boat to the beach for a good price. When i reach the beach there were actually some other Indian tourists and locals there but it was a very unique location.
A highly controversial road cuts through the Jarawa territory, connecting South Andaman to the North. The presence of the road has raised issues of encroachment on their land, disruption of their traditional way of life, and increased exposure to outside influences, including diseases and even alcohol. Coming from Port Blair, there is about 15km of this road going through the dense jungle until you reach the checkpoint, from where all vehicles go in the convoy passing the territory. To reach this 15-kilometer section, I used a scooter, documenting the sounds in the evening when traffic stops. Overall, it was a pretty surreal experience driving through the jungle with huge trees, an area that was not a long time ago completely innacasible.
Isolated beach, Butler Bay in Little Andaman
The field recording work was pretty challenging here regarding all the restrictions and rules—a bit secretive but also highly rewarding as the habitats were so out of reach. I didn’t find any public, extensive library recordings of these islands. When finishing the expedition in the Himalayas, I decided this would be my next destination. After three months of intense field recording trips to the Himalayas, I knew I could also choose Sri Lanka as my next destination, where I could relax and immerse myself in a more social environment of travelers. As you can see, I chose instead the remote Andaman Islands, where I spent the majority of my time alone or with locals capturing the sounds deep in the wild. Although part of me needed more social interaction, the drive and passion for documenting the sounds of such unknown places were too strong.
"Being, listening and immersing in this remoteness has transported me into another reality, thousands of years ago when the planet Earth was still in its purest form. There is no crisis here, just pure existence in the moment"
For a change, I did not do any wild camping on these islands. Firstly, it was forbidden to stay anywhere in the jungle or beach after sunset (well, it never stopped me before), but also because, after years of travelling by bicycle and wild camping everywhere, I felt the need for a different, more comfortable way of travel. This approach also creates a more productive environment for sound documentation work.
When available, I stayed in small hotel accommodations or at resorts. However, once you leave Port Blair, accommodations become very scarce and expensive. In India, it’s illegal for locals to host foreigners in their homes, making it impossible to stay with them, despite their desire to welcome you. Locals must report any foreign guests to the police or face trouble, which further limits options. This restriction takes away the opportunity to be near many great recording locations and makes you depend on very limited official accommodations.
I wake up at about 4:30, get dressed in my jungle uniform, put on the recording gear and start going towards the wilderness from my local accommodation, which is already very remote by itself. Mostly I use a scooter to help me reach the jungle edges faster and more easily, following the small local roads from the nearby settlements. After reaching the area, I head into the jungle with all my recording gear and flashlight on, as it’s still dark. I put my mosquito head net over my hat to protect me from all the insects that would otherwise make it unbearable when you have a headlamp on.
I hike for about an hour deep into the jungle to reach a desirable location to document sounds. I set up the tripod with my bag filled with gear and microphones, or sometimes I use “tree ears” by placing the microphones on the trunk of a tree. Just as the light slowly emerges from the horizon and the birds begin to stir, I press the rec button. In the meantime, I wander slowly through the jungle, observing the whole environment and immersing myself in the moment, deeply listening and observing. Sometimes I also bring my hammock with me and lay inside to take more rest and be safe from all the insects.
After about 2 hours of forest songs, I recover the recording setup and head back to my accommodation to have a good breakfast with a nice chef from there, or stop in the village to eat omelette and drink chai. In the daytime, I explore different amazing wild beaches capturing the sounds of the ocean and coral reefs. In the evening, I do it all again, reaching the jungle and managing to capture many diverse sounds at different times of the day and night.
Baratang Island is among the very sensitive areas in the Andaman archipelago as it borders (or better said it was a) a territory of Jarawas. One evening, I ventured out wanting to record nocturnal sounds near the sea channel opposite the Jarawa Reserve, an area still accessible to the public. Equipped with my gear, I walked through the village and into a more secluded area, following a small road through the jungle. My attempt to capture the night ambience was interrupted by a noise of a boat patrolling the sea channel, likely monitoring the tribal border area even at night.
Not long after, I saw lights and a car coming towards me. I knew something was up. Sure enough, it was the police. Three officers stepped out in the dark, approached me, and started talking in broken English. You can imagine me standing there with my tactical clothing, recording kit, tripod, pouch bags, and professional headlamp on my head.
They pointed at me to sit in the car, then drove me away in an excited and aggressive-like manner. I wasn’t really comfortable, but I stayed calm and composed because I knew my intentions were good and I had nothing to hide. They brought me back to my accommodation (that was good) then started asking me all sorts of questions. I later learned that local people from the village had seen me walk alone into the night and reported it.
I let them know I was recording sounds of the jungle (they disturbed it) and gave them to listen the recording I had captured earlier. They actually enjoyed it and realized I was not a danger or had bad intentions. In the end, they were already joking and wondering about my tactical gear and shoes. Oh, the life of a field recordist.
Library specs: Time: 279min (60 tracks) | Format: .wav 96khz / 24bit | 11.2GB
Audio gear: Sound Devices MixPre II, Nevaton MC 59 omnidirectional, Audio Technica shotgun
Very unique Kalapatthar Beach in Little Andaman.
It is a challenge to summarize all the interesting details about the islands and convey my profound personal experiences in one article. The Andamans are a complex tapestry of natural beauty, cultural diversity, and ecological significance that deserves much deeper exploration.
In the future, I hope to connect with ongoing research projects on these islands. This would not only establish connections within the scientific community but also potentially grant access to publicly restricted areas for further sound documentation. Such collaborations could provide invaluable insights into the islands’ ecosystems and help preserve their unique soundscapes.
My visit coincided with the monsoon season, which offered its own unique sonic palette. It would be fascinating to return during the dry season to compare the differences in bird activity and overall soundscapes. This contrast could provide a more comprehensive audio portrait of these remarkable islands throughout their annual cycle. As I reflect on this expedition, I’m struck by the delicate balance between preservation and accessibility in such ecologically sensitive areas. My experiences here have only deepened my commitment to documenting and sharing the sounds of our planet’s most pristine environments, in hopes of fostering greater appreciation and conservation efforts.
People culture:
https://southandaman.nic.in/people_culture/
History of Andaman Islands:
https://www.andamanislands.com/blog/detail/history-of-andaman-islands
Death of American missionary could put this indigenous tribe’s survival at risk:
https://www.nationalgeographic.com/premium/article/andaman-islands-tribes
Meet the first woman to contact one of the world’s most isolated tribes:
https://www.nationalgeographic.com/premium/article/first-woman-chattopadhyay-contact-sentinelese-andaman
