Day 11: Soi Yak/Kanchanburi, Mali and me

Elephants are amazing animals. A-maz-ing.

Even to a cynical buffoon like me, elephants are something special. I’ve just had two of the most amazing days of my life, where from metaphorically dawn to dusk L and I were among 9 unchained, uncaged, free range elephants. Strictly speaking, we weren’t actually with them all of that time, it would be cruel and unusual to force almost any animal to spend that much time with me (the exception would be for cats, as I’m easily trained and put out a decent amount of body heat).

L and I took the overnight option at the Thailand Elephant Sanctuary in Soi Yak, 40km from Kanchanaburi. They’re affiliated with a sanctuary Chiang Mai, the first of this kind, opened in 1995. The Soi Yak branch has only been open for 2 years. Prior to this, it was one of those places where elephants did tricks, took fat farangs on rides, and generally made the animals earn their keep by doing things that are quite unnatural, and require a serious amount of mistreatment to become compliant. Then in 2015, they changed to being an elephant rescue sanctuary, where elephants previously forced into working, or being tourist attractions, could live unchained, allowed to roam and eat what they choose, when they choose, and not have to shunt large westerners around. During our time there, they had 9 female elephants, ranging in age from mid-20s to Thong Koom, a ripe old 61 (elephants in the wild live 60-70 years, when they run out of teeth; in captivity special diets can extend their lifespan past 100+).

And you know what?

Elephants are just like 3-ton naughty dogs. They are strongly motivated by food, and so would you if you needed to eat 150kg+ each day, that doesn’t leave a lot of time for other things. Leave them alone, unsupervised, and you may find one with her trunk in that 20kg bag of rice bran you left out and opened. That 1m tall barrier that helps keep elephants and tourists organised come feeding time? They can step over it, one foot at a time, and they look damn funny doing that, but if the pile of bamboo is just sitting there…

Each one has a mahout to supervise them, keep them out of too much mischief. And if one does get caught with their proboscis in the bamboo, they act a little bashful (though may cheekily grab a good snoutful of bamboo while they retreat, because let’s face it, who’s gonna argue with 3-tons of hunger over a few blades?

There’s a rough routine at the haven. Between 8-9am, when the first tourists start to arrive, the elephants come out of where they’ve been sleeping and line up in an open pen-type area. It’s not really a pen, a couple of rows of simple wooden frames, open at the back. It means they can form a line while the tourists wave bamboo at them, which they then happily grab with their trunks, break off the stalk, strip off the dead leaves, and then munch on the good bit. Some, like Chopper, the cheeky one (so-named because she sometimes makes a sound like a motorcycle), will multitask, and be grabbing for more while still having a mouthful. Then it’s time for a tourist safety instruction, basically don’t do anything stupid enough to give them a surprise, touch them when they walk near you to let them know you’re there, don’t piss them off while they are eating, and don’t get between two in case they decide to lean on each other and accidentally turn you into strawberry jam. Oh, and give them a bit more space behind, as that tail isn’t for show, they don’t beep before reversing, and not all of that 150kg is gonna be digestible, if you know what I mean. (FYI, elephant poop is about the size and shape of a coconut, a bright yellow-green, and mostly fibrous grass husks and watermelon seeds. It also floats, and is quite fertile, L got a pic of one that was sprouting. It also doesn’t smell particularly bad. Now you know.)

Then there’s the cooking class, where half the group makes banana sticky rice balls, and the other half chops watermelon. First, if you’ve used bug spray wash your hands because elephants don’t like their food tasting of that crap. Then it’s quite easy, the rice ball ingredients are waiting ready to go in a bucket for each attendee (this morning I helped prep these), then it’s a case of mushing up the rice and banana, adding a handful of rice bran, and rolling, coating the final ball in more rice bran. For the melon, simply quarter, or take the ends off first and quarter if easier (standard knife handling skills apply, count your fingers before and after, in case of discrepancy don’t bleed on the food because elephants are vegetarians).

By now the elephants are getting a little impatient, that greeting bamboo only goes so far. So grab your bucket of rice and try not to give it all to Chopper (she has a trunk that seems to stretch when food is in front of her neighbours). Then comes the baskets of watermelon pieces, which are hoovered up.

Then it’s time to take a walk with the elephants. This takes as long as it takes, some decide they’ll stop and scratch that itch against a tree or three, some will grab a few snacks for the road, others will make their own path, and maybe meet up with everyone later. Did I mention elephants are the stealth bombers of the jungle? They can walk almost silently, certainly quieter than a hoard of tourists. Unless the elephant drags their feet, those mighty paws make no sound. It’s incredible to watch. It’s also surprising just how narrow a path they can traverse, sure they need a bit of room for their hips, but an approximately 75cm ravine is no real issue.

The walk finishes in a semi-clearing, there’s some huge (20m+) bamboo on one side that some of the elephants are slowly pulling down, lots of edible grass and plants, and here they are happy to graze while we wander around and say hi to them, take pictures, etc.

Then it’s vegetarian lunch for us, a buffet of good stuff (including at least one dish that looks like it has meat, but it’s not). At this time a couple of local kittens will turn up, maybe the two dogs that live there, or a skeptical chicken. There’s usually a bit of waiting here, as the stars are still munching their way through the forest.

They come back eventually, some of them anyway, and then we walk to the mud hole, where they might be a little playful. Chopper decided a mud bath was in order, and sprayed a bunch of it around. Pim Jai wanted to play with the water hose, while Mali just wanted to stand next to me and get her cheek massaged. Really. I spent more than five minutes with this huge beast who just wanted to be stroked, and tickled under the chin and behind the ear. You try to be bitter and cynical after that.

Then came the real fun, walking down to the river to see if any of the elephants wanted a bath. Mali was all in, so a bunch of us splashed water on her, rubbing off the mud she’d spent so long applying (elephants like dirt and mud, it protects their skin from bugs and the sun, and helps keep them cool — they only sweat from their eyes and between their toes). Then Chopper went in, and decided to put on a show, rolling onto her side, ducking completely under water.

It’s a bit scary, being waist deep in a fairly strong current, splashing water and getting up close with an elephant. Today more so, as there were a couple of moments where guns/fireworks went off in the distance, enough to make the elephants a little edgy at times. Pim Jai and a couple of other elephants came in, which helped with the current as the river goes around them. Remember that thing about the tail? While washing Pim Jai I copped a glancing flick to the back of my head from Chopper, nothing malicious or serious, but I’d hate to be on the wrong end of a serious swipe. Then, as the elephants decided to get out of the water, I found myself between two, where I could touch both with outstretched arms, which i did to let them know I was there, and they showed their appreciation by not making me a lot taller and thinner.

Elephants are wonderful, amazing gentle giants. They want to do their thing, and if people want to help them do that, they think it’s great. They are crazy intelligent, just watching them use their trunk for any number of things shows that. The trunk is amazing, it grips, smells, sucks up water that they then blow into their mouth to drink, it can close underwater, if a piece of bamboo is to dirty or tough, they’ll hit it against something to tenderise it and shake off the dirt. The trunk also looks like the most scary thing ever created by the BBC special effects team, a probing proboscis that can suddenly and silently appear over your shoulder, sniffing for food.

Elephants aren’t clumsy, either. To get that nice covering of dirt, they’ll use their front feet to dig the ground, and then push this into the curve of their trunk before flinging it over themselves. They’ll climb a barrier, one foot at a time. They can spot a piece of melon or banana on the ground and pick it up effortlessly. They can strip the good leaves off a blade of bamboo like a boss.

Elephants rock. Trust me, I gave one a cheek massage today.