One Day as a Mahout: Hanging Out with Elephants

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“Yo-od,” I hear myself stammer out as my elephant steadily lumbers towards the river--one step throws me back and threatens to upset my balance. I repeat the command to stop--but it is more of a request or a plea even. “Yood,” I say again in my most confident voice. ‘Please, please stop’ I think to myself and I hold tighter to the top of her head--pressing myself into her coarse black bristly hair and wrapping my legs tighter around her neck. She rapidly fans her pink-speckled ears--a cooling method for the elephant--and, in turn, lightly slaps my ankles. As she takes another gigantic step closer to the river, I turn to see if my mahout (the elephant trainer) is watching. He is not. He is sitting on a sun-soaked rock, slowly dragging on a cigarette, snapping pictures of himself and two girls. In the mahout’s direction, I deliberately say the universally-recognized word for concern, “Um” in hopes that he will do something. From behind a screen of rising cigarette smoke, the mahout’s eyes meet mine and instead of help, he offers me a gracious Thai smile before returning to his cigarette.

I close my eyes--blocking out the sun and the golden rice paddies--and try to remember the other words on the “Elephant Language” sheet we had seen just two hours ago. How do I say ‘left’ or ‘right,’ I wonder. Does ‘please don’t kill me’ translate easily into Thai Elephant language? As if the elephant can read my mind, she suddenly stops and settles on a patch of long green grass. With amazing dexterity, she vigorously wraps her trunk around several blades, tears them from the ground in one tug, and--this is my favorite part--she cleans the grass (by shaking it back and forth quickly--loosening dirt and bugs) before tossing the treat into her gapping mouth. It’s almost dainty, I think. In my dangling ankles, I can feel her jaw flexing as she chews the grass. I pat her on the head, lean a little closer to her ears, and say, “Good elephant,” before I add, “Yes, this is good grass, right? Aren’t we happy now?”

On the way to lunch, the mahout had been singing softly to the elephant. I tried to ask if elephants like music, but the mahout didn’t speak English, so I just let it go. Now--alone with this huge creature--I am willing to do pretty much anything to keep her happy. Of course I don’t know any Thai songs, so I scan my mind for something that might sound similar. I don’t know if Michael Jackson’s recent death brought this particular song to mind or if it did in fact sound a bit like a Thai mahout song, but I start to hum the tune “Man in the Mirror” as I pat my elephant behind her ears. “…If you want to make the world a better place, then take a look at yourself and make a change…change…” I sing softly to the lunching elephant. One of the elephant “camp directors” catches me doing this. She snaps a picture and says, “I love that you are talking to her.” With a little embarrassment, I try to joke, “Yeah, a little ambient music for her lunch or something like that.”

Meanwhile, I can see that Pierce is happily sitting atop his elephant in the shade of a tree and in the comfort of the lounging mahouts. Pierce’s elephant is newly a mother and--between bites of grass--she is keeping a close eye on her mischievous 5-month-old son, James Bond. It’s really an amazing scene. It’s about noon, the sun hangs brightly in the sky, and a very slight breeze blows from the river through the tall grass. In the distance, dramatic green mountains scissor the horizon before tumbling down to golden terraced rice paddies and brilliant green banana palm trees. The gold and the green of the landscape is only broken by clusters of shifting silhouetted elephants and the cresting of a woman’s conical-shaped hat over the rice stalks.

Elephant lunchtime is a relatively sedate activity compared to the previous two hours where we learned how to saddle an elephant (which can be delineated into three techniques: elephant sits on the ground and person swings leg over the elephant’s back, elephant bows and person lays on the elephant’s head before being sort of tossed up to the elephant’s back, or elephant bends knee and person climbs up the side of the elephant), how to steer the elephant (which is when we practiced our Thai Elephant Language), and taking a bath with the elephant in the river.

Bathing with the elephants proves to be good fun--save the dangers of tripping over the elephants legs or being stepped on by the non-motorically developed (but exuberant) baby elephant, James Bond. When we arrive at the river, the mahout instructs the elephant to lay down and offers a hand to me as an invitation into the rushing water. I accept and find myself waist deep in a cool mountain stream, tripping over the elephants submerged legs as I struggle to get my footing on the muddy river floor and tossing buckets of water onto the elephant. My elephant blinks as the water splashes over her face--patiently partaking in her daily bath with a foreigner. Just as I am starting to feel like I might have a knack for bathing an elephant, I am struck by a wave of water that temporarily blinds me. As the water clears from my blurred vision, I see my mahout smiling broadly at me--softly laughing and brandishing a large bucket in his hands. This signals the beginning of a group water fight--with the elephants happily being caught in the crossfire. Before long, Pierce and my mahout have formed a tacit alliance and I am fending off a double attack--shielding the onslaught of water with my bucket. Eventually, I suppose, the elephants are clean and the humans are drenched. A job well done.

Also on our tour, is a kind Filipino girl and a nervous Japanese girl. The Filipino girl speaks nearly perfect English and she tells me that she is traveling alone through Thailand at the young age of 21. I am impressed by her independence and spend parts of the day learning about Filipino culture and talking U.S. politics. I am again impressed with her knowledge of U.S. politics--when she throws out names like Gore, Bush, and Liberman, She makes me laugh when she admits, “I am so glad you guys are not Republicans…you just never know who might be a Republican.”

The nervous Japanese girl is also a source of entertainment. When we first arrive at the camp, we spend a few minutes learning about elephants from the camp director. While the director talks--with her back turned to the group of elephants and mahouts--one of the elephants begins to slowly creep towards the group of tourists--no doubt, in search of a banana snack. Her huge feet inch gingerly towards the group, she occasionally takes a glance back at her distracted mahout, and continues in her pursuit. The Japanese girl is seated next to me and I hear her let out a small shriek of fear as the not-so-sneaky elephant (because---after all--how can an elephant really be sneaky?) approaches. Moments later, the Japanese girl has jumped up, leapt behind the bench, and huddles behind the small group. The elephant is not bothered by her fear in the least and persistently sticks out her trunk in search of a banana. Her trunk reminds me of a huge snake as it winds between each of us, probing us for a banana, and breathing hotly on our shirts. Like a frantic beggar, the elephant’s trunk insistently searches for food and finally stops directly in front of the Japanese girl (who, unfortunately, happens to be standing next to the bag of bananas). One of the camp directors comes to the aid of the terrified girl and hands the elephant a banana. The elephant’s trunk quickly recoils and for a moment the Japanese girl seems to relax. The camp director and I exchange glances and both think ‘it is going to be a long day for this girl.’

As our day with the elephants comes to a close, we are taken to a mud hole and have the chance to “take a mud bath with the elephants.” This activity--just like the river bath--is also a lot of fun. For a few brief minutes, we indulge in the requisite child’s play that is swimming in the mud. Human and elephant alike splash in the mud. My mahout jumps into the mud and laughs heartily as the mud sprays us. James Bond the baby elephant lays on his side and spins in circles. He races around the mud hole with excitement and actually head butts one of the camp directors, but fails to push her into the mud. The elephants tire of the mud before the humans and they excuse themselves for another snack in the near-by grass. We persist in playing in the mud--scooping up tiny frogs from the stream and throwing mud everywhere we can.

In the end, the elephants carry us back to the camp and we take one final shower--sans elephants--in the clear waters of the river. We return our dirty mahout outfits before we adjourn to the shade to sip coffee and watch the setting sun on the rice paddies. When it is time to go, we say surprisingly-sad goodbyes to the elephants. The camp director takes us to a small shrine where each person lights incense and offers a prayer for good luck--but I can’t imagine being more lucky than I am, so I just say ‘thanks’ to the Gods that be and wave goodbye.

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Comments

[Beth]

Wow!!
This is so incredible! As if your love for elephants needed any encouragement... :) What an amazing adventure! I'm so glad you decided to do this!!

[Rudy (dad)]

Career change
Beth, If you decide to change career paths, a mahout, is a great choice, you look like you would be a natural. And yes, james bond, is cute.