Elephants and Friends

Travel Story by Lauren Hayhurst

Kanchanaburi, Thailand

I had not expected getting on an elephant to be so difficult. My two friends had mounted and were riding off professionally into the distance. "Perhaps you should just walk and help bathe her in the river." I looked at Phot and sighed with determination. I then turned to Boonmi, slung my left leg over her back and heaved. She rose to standing and ruffled her shoulders, arranging me in the crook of her neck. I tucked my knees behind her ears and leaned my hands on her broad head; Boonmi flapped her ears in agreement. As the thin, rough skin of her lobes stroked against my bare calves, a wave of respect and understanding washed over me. I had fallen in love.

During my eight weeks in Thailand, an elephant encounter was undoubtedly top of my list. Traditionally, elephants in Thailand were regarded as hard labour animals and many worked twelve hours a day in the harsh logging industry. Despite the banning of logging in 1989, many animals are still used by illegal logging companies and their numbers continue to fall due to the encroachment of habitat and poaching. The prohibition of logging pushed elephants and their handlers towards entertainment and tourism, giving rides and treks, and performing in shows.

Having been fully prepared to partake in an elephant trek, my research led to the discovery of the elephant conservation centre, an appealing and environmentally conscious alternative. Despite the abundant selection of establishments, 'Elephants and Friends', although small scale, simply oozed personal attention and passion for its three animals, far outweighing any temptations from larger centres with elephant herds.

Elephants and Friends is situated 20kms north of Kanchanaburi, the town famous for the bridge over the River Kwai, and only 2 ½ hours west of Bangkok. The location is perfect for those time-restricted travellers looking for a unique day trip.

We were collected from Kanchanaburi by Phot, the founder and owner, and driven to the centre; nestled snugly between green-carpeted mountainsides. The three amigos were waiting to greet us. Boonmi, Kaewta and Sidow stood as elegantly as an elephant can stand, in the shade of three sprawling trees.

"Who wants the playful one? Who wants the biggest?" Not me, I thought. "Who wants Boonmi, she's the gentle old lady?" She sounded perfect. Boonmi was 72 years old and I felt too heavy for her surely creaking bones. John, a long-term volunteer from Australia, told me of her renewed strength. Boonmi had arrived at the centre, exhausted, ill, and without any hope of recovery. The 'tourist camp' where she had worked for ten hours a day since the age of three, had finally rung her dry and rushed her here intending to make a quick buck. For two days, Boonmi simply lay down; a fatal thing for an elephant as their sheer weight can sometimes crush their internal organs. The vet gave her one-month to live. Phot and the mahouts, or elephant handlers, persistently rolled Boonmi over and encouraged her to keep moving. At the end of the second day, she stood up, unaided, and continued to regain strength.

Both Kaewta and Sidow also had upsetting stories. Kaewta was 55 and had been kept by two separate owners. The first was a tourist company who sanctioned her to work eight hours a day, giving rides. The second was an 'independent' organisation, who employed her in illegal logging services for a further eight hours. Kaewta became exhausted and struggled to meet her demands, so one owner pumped her full of amphetamines, a drug to give her energy and force her to work. As a result, she is now permanently damaged and her synaptic nerves no longer send normal impulses, causing her to be slow and distracted, unable to immediately react to commands.

Sidow, a baby at 19, exhibited signs of a playful adolescent; he was cheeky, impatient and wonderfully wild in the water. He also had worked at a tourist camp, but instead of receiving proper training and then interacting with visitors, he was periodically neglected and mistreated as he got passed from one mahout to the next. Dominique, Phot's late wife and co-founder of Elephants and Friends, met Sidow during her stages as a trainee mahout. An irreplaceable bond was forged between the two. Dominique rescued Sidow and brought him here, the youngest of their three very lucky elephants.

Every morning, we all washed in the river and as I watched my friend being dunked by Sidow, I could have sworn he was laughing as he ducked and tumbled. Boonmi and I, on the other hand, entered the water slowly and thoughtfully, letting the ripples lap gradually higher over our legs and trying to avoid the jet-sprays from Kaewta. She was the only one of the three able to flex her trunk back and eject a load of mischievously snorted water over the victim on her neck.

After an hour of splish-splashing, we had to attend to our friends' empty stomachs. Fetching their food was an exhausting task, but watching Boonmi go to work filled me with absolute fascination. First, she would hold a banana tree trunk still with one leg, then stomp down to crush it with the other, and finally use her trunk and tongue to strip the branches of leaves. Her appreciation made everything worthwhile.

Sitting together one dusty evening, Phot told us a little of the elephants' situation in Thailand. It seemed not every Thai held their native treasure in high esteem and Phot wanted to spread awareness of their still precarious plight. He told me of the deceitful nature with which some tourist camps delude visitors, who are simply not aware of the unacceptable conditions and inhumane hours the animals can be subjected to. John explained that the big companies can afford to pay tourist offices large commissions to promote their businesses. Small organisations, like Elephants and Friends, have to rely on word-of-mouth and their limited funds prevent them from receiving the preferential treatment offered by tourist boards. Due to this lack of interest and financial support, sadly, some conservation centres are forced to refuse many elephants the assistance and relief they so desperately require.

Phot's passion was clear - he stated simply that his focus was attaining help with the work, not begging for monetary handouts. He needed volunteers, like us, to assist with the everyday activities, and those, like John, to invest their time in more long-term projects, such as the education hut they were planning. Despite my short stay, I felt my contribution and involvement was deeply appreciated. I had been totally immersed in the village reality, playing with neighbouring children who came to visit the elephants, and helping to install the long awaited second electricity line - no tourist barrier ever existed.

My goodbye to Boonmi was emotional. After recovering from my first and only bought of insecurity, the experience blossomed into the most heart-warming encounter of my life. If only more people knew about this ecological alternative, funding could go towards rescuing more animals from over-worked camps, instead of continuing to ensure their hard labour.

Since returning home, I have learned that Boonmi passed away, and although this plagues me with sadness, there is comfort in knowing she spent the last years of her long life in luxury. It is the sort of luxury that every elephant deserves.

Illustration by Bob Veon
(Bob Veon's Website)

Read more about the author of this story:
Lauren Hayhurst

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