Elephantasy

About a year and a half ago the sweet Gig Harbor massage therapist, Ashley Bowen, who gave me my first Thai massage, told me about the elephant sanctuaries in Thailand, where you could not only visit, learn to take care of, and ride the elephants, but you could also swim with them.  That prospect was the one consolation for me in Amira's plan to go to Thailand; Koh Samet was one of the many locations offering elephant sanctuaries. 

Ban Changtai Elephants' Camp, pictured below, was thus the fulfillment of that dream. 

Nonetheless, for the first ten minutes there all I did was weep.  This was much to Amira's exasperation (she later said to me, "You're like a planet of emotion - you could knock the rest of the galaxies out of alignment.")  We laughed, but, really, sometimes I even overwhelm myself.

And I was totally overwhelmed at being in the presence of these monumental creatures.  There were only two or three elephants waiting in the stalls when Amira and I first arrived (Mark had briefly dashed off for one of his innumerable currency exchanges).  A mahout was standing near the elephant Amira and I were going to ride, holding the elephant prod with its sharp point at his side.  We learned our elephant's name was Sarrapurn and that she was 32-years old.  Her daughter, Ana, was 13 and was to be Mark's conveyor.  The two of them had been rescued from a farm where they had been mistreated and were now happily sequestered on beautiful Koh Chang, with only the gentle task of bearing riders up into the verdant hills and down into the balmy rivers.

It is only now that I have words for my tears; they were in part tears of awe at the elephants' beautiful, benign enormity.  But there was also a sadness that they were not free, not part of their original herd.  It was a consolation knowing that at least the mother and daughter were together, and yet they were still captives.  I was also filled with tears of gratitude for them, for their willingness to oblige our wishes; for their docility and grace despite their conditions.  

And I was also afraid.  I am not intrepid where physical risk is concerned.  I immediately imagined all the ways disaster might occur; the sight of cheerful, intact returnees on other elephants was not enough reassurance.

Mounting the elephants for the mahouts was as easy as stepping on their trunks and shimmying up their heads.  To my relief all we had to do was climb stairs up to a platform that was level with the elephants' backs and seat ourselves in the fairly secure-looking chair held in place by single ropes.  I worried, of course, about the strain on the elephants from these ropes, as well as worried about how secure they were, but it was a quick adjustment to being in the chair, Amira and I balancing each other out.

Mark, on the other hand, was solidly positioned in the middle of his seat, and seemed ready to roll (hopefully not off).

And off we went, up into the hills,

surrounded by a cacophony of unidentifiable jungle sounds, 

and traversing a path that occasionally appeared nearly impassable owing to either steep inclines and descents on a boulder-strewn path (which Sarrapurn traversed with the grace of a plodding ballerina), or precarious, narrow ledges at other points.  Before long we could simply rock comfortably from side to side as Sarrapurn proceeded with consummate stolid assurance on our two-hour trek. 

Mark had clearly been a mahout himself in another life (he is certainly a hoot in this one) as demonstrated in the photo below.

Midway into our trek in the jungle we were each given the opportunity of getting out of the chair and riding on our respective elephants barebacked.  Amira was first to brave bareback (which, actually, was more like bareneck), 

and I was likewise persuaded to give it a chance.  To my surprise it was simply exhilarating, and I felt completely comfortable being the "mahout" (who, fortunately, were standing by giving commands).

I cannot describe the comfort and thrill I felt as Sarrapurn's soft and graceful ears wrapped around my feet with a rhythmic, tender caress.  It felt quite like love.

After a circuit of the jungle, we followed a path to a dry river bed, 

where the banks began increasingly to hold water,

until we finally reached a point in the river bed at which the water level was sufficiently high for the elephants to go under.  The mahouts dismantled the seats on Sarrapurn and Ana, 

while Mark and Amira rested in anticipation of the Big Swim, 

and I surveyed the landscape, finding (no surprise) yet another heart floating near the dock.

The swim itself was rather anti-climactic, at least for me.  I was accustomed at that point to riding bareback, but as Sarrapurn descended into the deep water and began splashing about I felt a bit of panic.  When the mahouts had Sarrapurn and Ana submerge us underwater,

I was even more alarmed, since slipping off into the swampy-looking river, dotted with great clumps of elephant excrement, was not particularly appealing.  (Thailand is no place to be a germophobe, let me tell you.)  Besides, I had no idea how I would remount.

 Mark did slip off Ana right into the drink, and yet somehow climbed back up on the proverbial saddle. 

In the main I think the swimming was more fun for the elephants than it was for us, although we do appear to be enjoying ourselves.  

Still, the smiles you see on our faces below, I think, are largely smiles of relief at not having fallen off and been unwittingly stomped by our pachyderm friends.

Once back at the camp the mahouts chained up our sweet animals and we bought a basket of unpeeled chunks of green banana and unpeeled, spiny pineapple chunks to feed them. 

Sarrapurn deftly conveyed the improbably edible fruit to her beautiful, deep pink tongue and mouth,

 and in a single gulp swallowed the fruit.  Satisfied, she willingly posed for some photos.

It was her eyes that most intrigued me.  I wanted so much to commune with her, to be able to get a sense of the state of her heart and soul.  But as I peered into her eye all I discerned was a Divine Indifference. 

I had the definite sense she was not unhappy, though she was not beholden in any way.  It seemed she was content enough to be safe, to be with her child.  The human world was not her concern.  Still, notice the heart at the corner of her eye in the photo above.  

Notice the heart.