A magical river moment. Photo: Chanchai Rojanaporn, ENP guide.
Like thousands of others, I too wanted to visit Chiang Mai, but unlike most visitors, my objective was not the various markets, temples or the amazing Northern Thai cuisine, it was elephants.
It’s not difficult to find these personable pachyderms here. You can watch daily elephant performances, take any one of numerous opportunities to ride or trek on them, and apparently there are sometimes elephants and their mahouts begging on the streets.
My “ethical elephant engagement” conscience had been awoken after I rode one around Angkor Wat and subsequently considered that my patronage could be contributing to an inhumane lifetime of training from very young and a life lived confined and unfulfilled.
I don’t mean to make you feel bad if you have or will partake in any of these activities. I enjoyed the experience of riding the elephant and acknowledge that this provides a livelihood for the mahout who dedicates his life to being with the elephant. I just wish that the prevailing methods of training and managing these type of activities were humane, and in my heart believe that these animals should live wild and free like their much larger African cousins.
This is how an elephant photobombs! Photo: Tanya Accone
Having researched the elephant options, it’s no surprise that I signed our family up to volunteer for a day at the one place that has won international acclaim for its commitment to liberating and reintroducing formerly working elephants to the jungle: Elephant Nature Park.
Our day centred around learning and caring for four elephants: the cautious Kanchana (who eventually tracked me down in the jungle and deigned to eat some food from me to her minder’s surprise); the calm Metamoon; the smaller and friendly Mae Deng, and the people-loving, senior matriarch Wassana, who stole my heart.
One of many reasons to wear clothes you’re fine with filthying turns out to be elephant saliva and snot. We got to be very familiar with this substance as we introduced ourselves to the elephants, talking to them so they would learn our voices while they investigated us with their trunks and enjoyed the watermelon and sugar cane we fed them.
Then it was off to walk with them through the jungle in the surrounding hills for the next hours. These elephants have no chains or collars, their carers have no bull hooks or anything else. Communication is through voice and a relationship built on mutual respect.
Psst! There’s something behind you! Photo: Tanya Accone
Essentially, the elephants choose where they want to walk, what bamboo grove they’re going to devour, when they want to stop (at one point we were all halted in one spot being feasted upon by mosquitoes as Mae Deng decided she wanted to just stop for a while), and when they’re going to pop up and gently convince you to part with a piece of sugar cane.
For three hours we accompanied our family group, clambering up and slithering down pathways, wobbling across streams and jumping across rocks. C and I ended up in an elephant sandwich on a narrow and muddy pathway — with Wassana in front and MaeDeng behind.
We were very alert! Being sure to not get too close to Wassana’s rear and making sure we spoke calmly so she knew where we were (they don’t like people behind them but this was unavoidable — there was nowhere else to be) and keeping MaeDeng patient behind us. It also gave us the opportunity to admire how something so large is so careful about picking its way through narrow, muddy and perilous pathways — a slip can mean death to an elephant if they break a leg or can’t get up.
As we arrived near our lunch spot the monsoon heavens opened and we were drenched!
It seems almost impossible for Thai food to be anything but delicious, and so it was with making our own papaya salad under the thatch-roofed picnic table and enjoying a feast of spring rolls, pad thai, mixed vegetables, mango sticky rice and fresh pineapple — the latter of which we later shared with the elephants.
Then it was off for a swim in the river. All of us. If you didn’t feel small next to an elephant on land, standing next to one in the middle of a fast-moving river will do it. C and I fought our way across the current to Wassana, who then obligingly turned sideways, immediately creating a pool of calm in her wake. Then we got to splash her with water.
A special kind of ambush! Photo: Chanchai Rojanaporn, ENP Guide.
Among those we got to splash were, of course each other, and to our surprise and even more so theirs, every passing rafting group who had freshly put in a little way up the river. Needless to say, the smallest member in our party was very disappointed when it was time to get out.
Our last stop was the main park area to watch different family groups take their afternoon baths. We watched as one of the young elephants delighted in his body’s buoyancy, completely submerging himself and letting the current bob him along.
Founder, Lek Chailert, stopped by with another group of visitors, trailed by an elephant who had affectionately draped its trunk on her shoulder. Then, with the sun literally setting on our day, we headed back to Chiang Mai.
ABOUT ELEPHANT NATURE PARK
ENP is vision of one woman, Lek Chailert, realized by a dedicated army of staff, a large number of paying volunteers like us and those who stay for much longer, donors and the admirable support by the Thai Government which covers the cost for veterinary treatment and has the world’s leading experts in pachyderm health. Thailand has built this capacity because the elephant is a revered animal in Thai culture.
This is no joke, as we got to meet four elephants who had all or part of one of their legs blown apart after stepping on land mines in neighboring Myanmar. Getting an elephant in this state literally back on its feet takes two to three years.
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