By AMY EARLY | Moonshine Ink
Growing up, I had a favorite book called “But No Elephants” by Jerry Smath. In it, a traveling pet salesman visits Grandma Tildy’s house in an unnamed place, pawning off everything from a turtle to an elephant. Grandma Tildy somewhat begrudgingly welcomes each of the animals into her home, one by one — even the elephant. “But No Elephants” helped instill in me a love for all creatures, big and small. This is a love that I recently had the amazing blessing of sharing with a group of like-minded travelers and a woman named Lek.
Lek is a Thai name meaning tiny or small, and Lek is just that, though her heart is anything but. Lek’s home is Elephant Nature Park, a 2,000-acre sanctuary about 37 miles north of Chiang Mai, Thailand. Set in a natural valley, with a river to one side and mountains to the other, the park is also home to about 60 dogs, 50 cats, 30 water buffalo, a number of transient volunteers, several permanent staff members, and, of course, 35 Asian elephants, called chang in the Thai language. Oh, and one pony. Just like Grandma Tildy, Lek cannot say no to anyone who shows up on her doorstep.
On my first day at the park, Lek gathered all the volunteers together to relate her history and the history of the park. Lek was born in 1962 in the mountains of Northern Thailand, where her grandfather had an elephant, Thongkhum, “the golden one.” From a young age, she learned to love elephants. Sadly, she also came to learn that her beloved chang were being mistreated across Asia and the world, where they were and still are forced into logging, begging in the streets, or performing circus tricks under extreme duress. As a young adult, Lek traveled around with veterinarians treating injured and sick elephants. But after treating the animals, she had to leave them in harm’s way, with no means to rescue them and no place to bring them.
After years of this vigilante lifestyle, Lek met a man from Texas and told him that her greatest wish was to have enough land to rescue all of the elephants in Asia and to reintroduce them to their natural habitat. The kind stranger soon offered to fund the land purchase, and Elephant Nature Park was born. That was in 1996.
A decade and a half later, the park is thriving. And while the elephants are the number-one priority, Elephant Nature Park is respectful of the land upon which it exists and is devoted to sustainable practices — the food purchased to feed the many creatures living and visiting the park helps support local farmers, and not a bit goes to waste. One of my tasks as a volunteer was to clean squash seeds so we could return them to the farm for replanting. Another was to wield a machete and cut down corn stalks, which are an important food source for the elephants. Other jobs at the park include washing the elephants, feeding the elephants, shoveling elephant dung (which is repurposed into paper notebooks and stationery sold at the park’s souvenir shop), and general maintenance around the park.
During our breaks from work, my fellow volunteers and I had the opportunity to hang out with the elephants, dogs, cats, and each other. The elephants get lots of playtime, and I found my favorite way to be with them was watching them from a distance; there is something both captivating and alarming about these creatures, whose size is only an indication of their radiant energy. Elephants are extremely intuitive and emotional animals, and the rescued animals at Elephant Nature Park exude an almost tangible loving happiness and gratitude.
Another highlight of my time there was an overnight visit to Elephant Haven, a camping spot in the mountains about an hour hike from the park. Elephant Haven is remote enough that the elephants can roam free, whereas at the park they are penned at night to prevent them from escaping and grazing at neighboring farms. In the morning, we hiked around searching for the elephants, and our guides taught us about the many medicinal herbs that grow in the jungle and are used to treat the elephants.
While Elephant Nature Park may seem like utopia, it is not without its worries. For one, in order to rescue the elephants, Lek and the other organizers have to raise funds to purchase them from their owners, no matter how poorly treated the animals are. This means that the park is constantly struggling to raise funds. Because of this, there is a small fee for visiting the park, even for volunteers.
There is also the issue of caring for deeply damaged beings. Lek has seen elephants arrive at her park going through withdrawals from the amphetamines they were forced to take in order to work around the clock as logging animals. Many of the animals suffer from physical deformities and emotional or mental disorders stemming from the decades of abuse they have endured. A popular training technique for elephants in Thailand involves “breaking the spirit” or pajaan, a cruel practice in which the animal is taken from its mother at a very young age and beaten to the point of torture. It is likely that every elephant in the entertainment and tourism industry in Thailand undergoes some form of pajaan.
Another issue that the park has dealt with more recently is a raid by the Department of National Parks. They accused Lek and her crew of stealing elephants from the wild. Of course, all of the elephants in the park are properly documented and after a few scary months, things seem to have returned to normal.
Of all my travels, visiting Thailand to shovel elephant poo ranks highest. The experience helped me understand that travel is more than vacation; it can provide us with opportunities to broaden our consciousness and align ourselves more peacefully with our environment. As residents of Tahoe, we know firsthand that tourism can be a double-edged sword; many of us rely on it for survival, yet deal with the seasonal invasions of the place we call home. Above anything else, my time at Elephant Nature Park taught me to be a considerate traveler. I hope to tread lightly, give back more than I take, and show gratitude wherever I go. And if a traveling pet salesman ever knocks on my door, my answer will be, “Yes, more elephants, please!”
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