Taking a (Real Big) Leap: What's been Calling for 58 Weeks in a Row
The place, Phuket, Thailand. The date, November 13, 2023.
We’re in the back of a passenger van and for someone who hardly gets motion sick, I’m fighting nausea as we snake up a steep, forested road. We’ve been told The Big Buddha is a must-see. A sight to behold, this 13-story white stone statue doubling as a sacred temple attracts thousands of tourists each year. A token symbol of peace and freedom is only minutes away.
But I feel anything but that.
How can I, when the sight we’ve just motored past makes me even sicker to my stomach.
It wasn’t more than a few seconds that I caught a glimpse of those half dozen elephants, each chained in place to a concrete slab the size of a four square court. Their ears wildly flapping in an attempt to keep cool in the scorching midday sun. They bake, awaiting the one chance to escape that platform in exchange for a further disfigured backside for the sake of visitors wanting “the ride of their life.” Supplemented by the perfect selfie to prove it. The natural curve of the elephants’ giant backs have become flattened lines thanks to decades of pressure heaped on top. They were never meant to be ridden. Never meant to be “trained” and whipped from their wild ways of life.
And when I say whipped, I wish I was exaggerating.
This is the scene that’s been living inside me for over a year now, since I flew across the world to learn more about the elephant/human conflict. I thought I was going for an immersion when my buddy Nikki and I signed up to volunteer for a week at Phuket Elephant Sanctuary—such a memorable, heartfelt time filled with learning and joy.
Yet if I’m being honest, I can’t say it was an immersion. Rather, an invitation beckoning me to dive further into what appears to be a darn complicated, pressing matter.
Often, I think of that saying that goes something like: The place it feels most unbearable to look is exactly where you should focus your gaze. For me, this place spans beyond a fleeting moment. It’s shown up in my dreams at night multiple times a week for, oh I dunno, 58 weeks in a row. And then some. Must mean something, right?
When I landed back in the States from Phuket, my parents asked me what stood out most from the trip. I blurted out the first thing on my mind. That one day, I knew I’d return.
Well my friends, that day has come.
Teetering on the Edge
But first, just because I’ve gotten an up close view, that doesn't mean others know how in danger these giants really are (the elephants, not the Buddhas). Especially the Asian variety.
We’re talking less than 50,000 left on the planet.
Of those, a third live in captivity (zoos, circuses, shows, trekking camps, former logging facilities and sanctuaries, many of which call themselves ethical yet still use bullhooks and offer rides). Their forest habitat are mostly gone. Unspeakable, barbaric methods are used to “train” every elephant into submission at these places. And Thailand tops the list when it comes to destinations tourists flock to get up close for the “ultimate elephant experience.” (Since neither of us have all night, you can read more about that here).
Add into the mix their keystone species ranking, meaning they’re some serious glue when it comes to holding habitats and ecosystems together. They literally plant trees with their poop (wild to see it sprout in 3 days!). And create pathways for animals to maneuver and survive thanks to trails they leave.
If we lose them, it spells further SOS for our planet.
So if you’re like me, you ask . . . HOW is this allowed to happen? And WHY?
I’m no tourism expert, scientist nor anthropologist. But from someone well-steeped in humanitarian issues, at least, girl can sniff out complexity. And from my not-so-light research, it seems this is a case of a “why” connected to dozens more whys. Like one of those snags in a sweater you try to fix by pulling on a single thread at the bottom, only to see the fabric bunch up in both sleeves when you tug it. So much hides beneath the layers, even if it looks simple from the outside.
During those disaster response years, I learned that one of the worst things you can do to help in these kinds of situations—no matter how hard you ache to do so—is throw yourself in with your own “solution” without knowing your lane, assuming you know the biggest needs. That kind of thing only detracts from tedious headway already being made by experts. (Here’s where you pull me off my “don’t send pounds of used clothes to a hurricane site” soapbox. Or if you’re a former teammate reading, jump onto it with me!)
Since that trip last November, I’ve been aching to be a sponge. I want to absorb and learn those threads to understand where I can lend my skills to actually help for the long-term without unraveling already brilliant work being carried out.
And time and again, volunteering has become a gateway for me to get up close and personal to areas I’m not well-versed in. Since I’ve made it this far west as a nomad, why not take it even further?
Destination: So Far West it’s East
In two weeks, I’ll trade the West Coast for the forests of Chiang Mai to work alongside experts for two months at a first-of-its-kind sanctuary called Kindred Spirit Elephant Sanctuary. It’s a place that re-introduces rescued elephants who have been forced for decades to give rides and perform in shows for the sake of tourism to their roots in a 22,000+ acre forest where, at all times, they roam freely. There are no enclosures. No demands. No hands-on interactions. No forced bathing. No sharp bullhooks or whips or kicks to the back of the ear.
Just elephants being elephants.
What’s also ridiculously cool is that the sanctuary has created a symbiotic relationship between the elephants, the local hill tribe village (known as the Karen people) and eco-tourists willing to make a five hour trek from the nearest city straight into the wilderness to learn about and support endangered species welfare efforts. (I hear they even have a new gibbon project!)
It was this model that stood out above the rest during my research. And I’m champing at the bit to experience it firsthand during my homestay with a local hill tribe family. I’ve been told the accommodations are “rustic but comfortable.” Think: spotty electricity, crowing roosters, home cooked meals and cold bucket showers. Also, a base camp resembling a treehouse in the jungle where we gather daily.
Not gonna lie, it took a second to surrender my ego to the beloved title of research intern at the age of 35. But titles ultimately mean nothing at the end of the day, right? I'll gather all kinds of raw data while observing elephants (including a baby!) every day, hiking miles to find them. I may get a chance to teach women in the village English and learn the Karen language. Help visitors appreciate the value of observing elephants at a distance. And do whatever else needs doing! (Will they need someone to cuddle the village dogs and cows?)
And yes, you know I’ll be talking to those elephants ;)
I’ll have so much to keep sharing with you and am still figuring out exactly how I’ll do that, given the spotty wifi and abundance of stories sure to come. But there’s always a way.
For now, I want to turn it to you.
What do you want to know about the elephants?
What do you wish you could ask them? Do you want to know about life in the jungle? Thai food? Rustic living or eco-tourism? How to not go batty on fourteen-hour flights?
Drop a comment below and LMK, or shoot me a direct note here. Until then, see ya on the flip side!
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