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Published: November 22nd 2013
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One hundred metres of chain, connected on one end to a large tree and the other shackled to the ankle of Phu Noy, was all that stopped him escaping into the surrounding unruly Lao jungle, and despite his best efforts, this morning was no different to any other. He had dragged the chain to its tension point and tangled it around wet greenery and small trees, perhaps in the search of different food, perhaps to try to become more comfortable, or perhaps his simple primitive drive to be free of the life he has now. After instructing Gus to "Stop Here", the Mahout jumped into the dense patch of green, in which the elephant could not be seen but whose movement could be clearly heard. After twenty minutes of similar crashing sounds, harsh commands in loud Lao, and the chains loosening, tightening, pulling, loosening, Phu Noy emerged from the bush swaying his large trunk, ears forward, one hundred metres of chain folded evenly behind them, and the Lao Mahout sitting comfortably on the middle of the elephants back. Phu Noy stood before Gus, like a taxi waiting out the front post horn-beep. The Mahout quickly and carefully slid down the elephant’s right flank, sounding a clap as his thongs slapped between the ground and his soles, then signalled for Gus to come closer.
“Song! Song!” (“Bend Knee Up!”) “Song! Song!” The Mahout said loudly to Phu Noy, who obediently did so. The Mahouts actions pointed Gus to the top of the elephant, and after the unhurried and highly in-depth elephant lessons he had the day before, Gus planted his barefoot into Phu Noy’s raised and bent right leg and launched himself on top of the chains the elephant carried on his neck. The hide was thickset, feeling almost impenetrable, and the dwindling long spikey bristles of hair like stems of dried wheat after harvest. The ears would flap forward and back, and would swat against Gus’ legs, which clung tightly around the neck. The steps were slow and heavy, feeling purposeful but still seemed uncalculated, of course which they were not. The movement felt clumsy and swaying, of course this was just Gus’ unsteadiness perched atop the marvellous endangered mammal. The chains beneath Gus’ bum would clang with each step, and the memory of a movie Gus once saw sparked, where a prisoner walked, chained at the arms and at the legs, toward his cell, or to the gallows, or to the chamber, or to wherever his sad and negative fate awaited him. Gus decided his bums discomfort was not a concern as he imagined having to live an captive elephants life, and felt guilty due to the fact that he paid a substantial amount of money for this experience.
Gus truly believed the paradox lay between the 10 elephants at this camp appearing to be well looked after and well fed, despite Gus having no prior knowledge or experience in the field. He told himself to think positively, maybe to give himself an excuse for the event, or so it flowed better, or once fused together with the fact that these elephants see hundreds of tourists a day, hearing their painfully loud accents and arrogant complaints, carting their fat arses around the jungle and beautiful river setting, giving a million memorable digital photos that will “last a lifetime”, accompanied by the stories (and intelligent blogs) they can share with family and friends, and being able to say “I RODE AN ELEPHANT!!” Gus felt ambivalent, but could not escape the excitement of “RIDING AN ELEPHANT!!”
Gus thought his commands of direction were what assisted Phu Noy to the river, but again realised the elephant would do this every day and know exactly what to do, plus that the Mahout was riding in the middle of Phu Noys back the whole time. Phu Noy came gently crashing into the muddy water, allowing his whole body, head and trunk to go underwater so only Gus’ torso was above, while the Mahout would move like a cat around the elephants back, scrubbing it’s body as it bathed. Gus rubbed Phu Noys head and ears, attempting to clean him a little. The Mahout screamed loudly “Louk! Louk!” (“Stand Up!”), and Phu Noy did so almost immediately, followed closely with “Tak Boon! Boon Boon!” (“Spray Water!”), Phu Noy then sucked a trunk full of water, curled it behind him, and squirted it directly at Gus, soaking his remaining dry parts. The jolt of being saturated by a trained elephant woke Gus up enough to turn his smile into a loud long cackle of natural laughter. “Boon! Boon!” And again!! “Boon! Boon!” Again. The laughter increased with each spray. The Mahout directed Phu Noy out of the river and to the nearby feeding hut, where the chains were dropped to the ground, and large bundles of sugarcane and pineapple leaves were bought out by other carers for the elephants to feast on. Another five elephants were already there, some with their Mahouts aboard, roping the wooden double-seating to the elephant’s middle back for the day ahead of international arses and accents.
What a day ahead for them. Gus learned these elephants are reportedly ex-logging elephants, and was told they would work 10-12 hours a day carting logs from the jungle for sale closer to town, and, again reportedly, were subject to poor conditions and even poorer care. Maybe the tourists being there is helping the elephants have a better life. Maybe it’s just making someone rich. Maybe both. Maybe they all just get by. Maybe Gus is just like every other arse and accent there. Maybe everyone has that ambivalent feeling, torn between a memorable experience but knowing at the end of it all, it’s still simply taking advantage of a beautiful animal that is where it is because of gluttonous, consuming, overpopulating humans. Maybe it’s all worth it all, just for the laughter produced.
Maybe.
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