Sitting in the passenger seat of the bright orange son tough (vehicle), the solo passenger bouncing down the dusty road, I left Elephant’s World. The tornado of emotion swirling inside made me dizzy, happy, sad, thankful, torn, already longing for the family I am leaving behind.

The last three days have been trying. Jon is in detention. He is fighting against the restraints of control being put upon him. Being as respectful as possible, I have made every effort to find common ground with management and the mahouts in order to ensure that Jon receive proper care during this critical time. They are not beating him, nor being overtly cruel, but they are punishing him by tightening the reins of control and reducing his freedom. They are mirroring their forefathers, who taught that disobedience results in punishment, which in this case requires deprivation.

Today was especially hard because I knew I was leaving. I felt I had failed Jon and the mahouts, and struggled for inspiration. I spent time observing the elephants in the morning. We were alone — the mahouts had gone to collect fodder and there were no tourists on grounds. I found myself melting into the elephants’ rhythm. It took no effort to feel their boredom, their thirst and their hunger. Their resignation hung heavy in the air.

In a near meditative state I found myself thinking about the mahouts and their families, living in their simple bamboo huts. Laundry hanging on bamboo rods to dry in the open air. Breathtakingly colorful violets draped from the rickety porch shaded by scraps of shade cloth. I thought about this for a long time. I tried to feel how it would feel to live here, to be here, to know nothing else. Would I yearn for something different? Do they yearn for something else? Or are they content, surrounded by their families and friends and their elephants?

Drawn back to the massive gods chained in front of me, I wondered if my need to help them resulted from an unrealistic personal projection, or could it be that they too recognize the lack of freedom of choice they live with day after day. The peaceful river flowed nearly silent on one side of me, while tethered elephants simply existed on the other. On the river side, life is abundant, rich with texture and color, teaming with bugs, darting birds, the swirling current and the wind. On the other side, a colorless one-dimensional backdrop of dust covered half dead trees rooted in a barren carpet of dehydrated earth devoid of vegetation did nothing to enhance the elephants, who were deep in the escape they have mastered, nearly void of life from being left on chains for nearly every hour of every day. They don’t even sway — they just breathe, hardly existing.

Being kept on chains creates a disconnect that cuts an elephant off from the natural world and, as result, their own nature. They look so out of place. Watching them, I’m sure the elephants know the difference between here and their real home, and they realize that the choice is not theirs. Some rebel, some accept and others go insane. I wonder if the mahouts ever feel this way.

Piza knew I was sad about leaving with Jon still incarcerated. Over the past three days, I asked about Jon’s food, water and chain-free time at every opportunity. Piza was always polite and kind and explained the current plan as best he could.

I had delayed my departure to the very last moment so I could see the elephants in the river one last time. I heard a familiar playful voice call out to Jon and spun around in its direction. I couldn’t believe it — Jon was running full speed ahead, hobbled, with drag chain trailing behind, making a beeline for the river and the other elephants. He was a whirlwind of energy, like a tornado, spinning rapidly while steadily moving forward. Piza had intentionally released Jon for the river, standing a few feet behind, wearing that “I love Jon, too” grim that stretches across his entire face.

I was overjoyed. What a sight Jon was, running FAST, glancing back at Piza every few seconds to make sure he was not being followed too closely. He was ready for this mad dash to the river; he had waited all day for it. My heart burst seeing the look on Jon’s face: he was ecstatic, about to explode with excitement. He did not slow as he approached the river and nearlycreated a tidal wave when he plowed into the water at full speed.

I looked at Piza. He had a cheeky look on his face and I realized that he had allowed Jon to go to the river for me. Piza knows how deeply I want Jon to have some freedom and I am eternally grateful that he created the situation where my last memory of Jon was watching him play with full abandon.

In the river, the scene was “watch out elephants and mahouts-on-elephants, Jon is here!” He flew into the water, eyes intense, wild in anticipation. He ran, hopped, swam and play-charged the other elephants. He literally dove into the water doing a sideways body slam not holding back an ounce of his boundless energy — he was on fire. The mahouts were on guard, but they were happy that Jon was able to experience a moment of fun as well.

Later, speeding down the paved highway toward the Kanchanaburi bus station, I found myself grateful for my time at Elephant’s World even as I pondered the plight of elephants worldwide. Can we help them? Is it possible to give them their lives back? I am optimistic because to fail them is not an option.

Because of this, I know I will go back to Elephant’s World. Not because it is a progressive facility where elephants’ needs are met first and foremost — quite the contrary. I will go back to help Elephant’s World reach these goals. They have good intentions and I believe that in the future EW will be an organization that I will proudly endorse. I will go back to help EW make a better life for Jon, for all of his elephant family and for the mahouts. This is my Kanchanaburi family and I will not forget them.

I am thankful for Jon, Piza and all the mahouts. I am especially thankful for all of you who made my unscheduled stay at Elephant’s World possible by your generous support. My life is enriched daily and today I feel like a billionaire.
Namaste

What I have witnessed over the past 24 hours has been both heart wrenching and illuminating. Change is indeed the only constant we can depend on. Learning seems to come in a consistent formula — two steps forward, one step back and, at other times, giant leaps in either direction. But one thing is for sure: any suggestion that the process of life’s lessons moves in a linier direction is illogical.

Yesterday afternoon as Piza was bringing Jon back from his morning foraging, they met up with another mahout carrying an armful of freshly cut produce. Jon was interested in the food but was told that he could not have it. In an instant, his cooperative attitude flipped to rage.

Piza recognized the flare in Jon’s eye as a signal that he was about to act aggressively toward the other mahout. When Jon moved toward the food, Piza, working upon instinct and his dominance-based training, struck Jon across the leg with the handle of his hook. Jon’s reaction was instantaneous and life threatening: he turned on Piza.

I was not present but was told that Jon first kicked Piza with his front foot and then swung his head, knocking Piza down. What came next was pure instinct on Jon’s part, the wild bull in him still smoldering below the surface. He lunged toward Piza, who was attempting to regain his footing and put distance between him and the outburst. Blinded by his rage, Jon tried to pin him under his tiny tusks. Piza escaped with a few bruises, but no broken bones or internal injury, and a deeper knowledge and respect for Jon’s nature.

This behavior was not new for Jon; in fact, it is why Elephant’s World invited me to come and work with him. Jon arrived at EW only two months ago and no one seemed surprised by this most recent outburst.

With Piza rushed to the hospital for x-rays, the other mahouts were left to secure Jon on his chain. What followed was not the scene I expected. The mahouts worked calmly,systematically, and I must admit, quite humanely. Jon remained defiant, a cover for his fear of what he assumed the mahouts would do to him once he was recaptured. He avoided their attempts to get him to cooperate, which of course made things a little tense.

The mahouts were calm and patient, and watchful for their own safety. Jon was given every opportunity to cooperate but we all understand why he was apprehensive. He is a wild male elephant living in a human’s world facing the greatest challenge thrust on anyone — denying his nature.

The mahouts surrounded Jon. At no time did he fully submit, but he finally resigned himself to the fact that he was outnumbered. The leg shackles he had worn when I first arrived, the long drag chain and nail-tipped bamboo poles, were reinstated. Jon had no choice but to acquiesce. Deep inside I know that Jon is smart enough to figure out his lot in this life, that the best thing he can do for himself is to find his strength in cooperation rather than defiance.

When I asked the mahouts if they felt Jon’s new training had contributed to his aggressive outburst, they said no and appeared genuinely surprised by the suggestion. They spoke of Jon’s actions as an emotional outburst of anger as opposed to a conscious choice simply to be defiant. They clearly saw that Jon had a temper tantrum when he did not get the food he wanted and were completely comfortable recognizing and acknowledging that Jon is an emotional being.

Modern science is slowly accepting what astute mahouts have known for centuries: elephants are highly intelligent and emotional beings. One mahout spoke for the rest when he said that they were happy I was working with them because the elephants seem, in his words, happier.

This morning I waited until the mahouts were off-grounds collecting food for the elephants before going to check on Jon. He did not act particularly emotional. He did not appear fearful, angry or despondent. He was not exhibiting stereotypical behavior, but did appear hungry. Although I do not concur, I do understand that the mahouts’ method of dealing with Jon’s attack includes withholding or reducing food. This method is not limited to Asia; it is used by some elephant trainers in the US today.

For nearly one hour I watched Jon, without focusing too much energy on him. Tears streamed down my face at his fate, wild and captive. I wondered if there is anything we can do to make the injustice of that reality right again. With no safe wild left to elephants, it is up to us to create an alternative, one that protects and respects this species that so many of us are drawn to.

I will admit to being relieved that in the hour I observed Jon he never engaged in stereotypical behavior or acted stressed. He was not angry and did not even display signs of being confused. He was not despondent, he was resigned. And, thankfully, he was relaxed enough to play. A large rope had been wrapped around the tree he was chained to. Jon flipped the rope over his neck and wiggled his head back and forth, tugging on the rope playfully with his ears. I heard a huge sign leave my body; I don’t know how long I had been holding my breath.

As I left Jon, I could not help but ponder the dilemma humans have created for our planet and her inhabitants. Deep in thought, I realized that an EW staff member was waving her arms trying to get my attention. Looking in the direction she was pointing, I saw Jon in the banana plantation, happily reaching for the highest leaf and, with much gusto, tearing it loose and stuffing it into his mouth.

I assumed that Jon had slipped his chain. I decided to try to head him off by getting to the food hut first and loading up on his favorite treat. I felt confident that if I could drop a trail of bananas, I could get him to follow me back to his stable area.

When I got to the hut I was surprised to see Piza casually lounging in one of the flimsy plastic chairs, watching the DVD I had given him of “All Our Girls so Far.” I hesitated for a moment, so pleased he was watching the video of my girls, but realized I must interrupt him with the news of Jon.

With my best body language yet, arms flailing and in ridiculous broken English — yes, broken English. That’s what happens when everyone you talk with speaks broken English. You begin to speak like them! — I told Piza about Jon being loose. He smiled and said it was okay. I thought perhaps Piza had suffered a concussion and didn’t understand what I was saying — that Jon was loose! — but a huge grin spread across his face again, and I understood.

Even though Piza had told me last night that Jon would be kept on chains for up to three days, he had decided that Jon was ready for a degree of freedom. It was then that I remembered that Piza had said Jon would be kept on chains until he was no longer angry. I had seen for myself earlier in the day that Jon was not angry. Piza was true to his word and, as a result, Jon was having a feast in the banana forest.

Once I understood that all was well and Jon was no longer being punished, I turned to thank Piza. When our eyes met I felt deep admiration for this young man. He has such love and respect for Jon. In my heart I know that these two are matched souls, brothers from another time. They are meant to teach each other and the world about what it means to be held captive, because the mahouts are no less captive to the elephants than the elephants are to them. Let’s dream that together Jon and Piza will make a new world for captive elephants.

Feb 6
Today we experienced a major breakthrough with Jon’s training…I passed the training target over to Piza.

Oh man, was it hard to stand back and let Piza make mistakes and see Jon struggle with the resulting frustration, but it was time. Jon kept coming towards me, soliciting my interaction, but I had to return him to Piza. It was time for the game to be something the two of them share.

Jon finally accepted the change and fully engaged with Piza. I clearly saw that they will invent their own version of the training game, which will serve them well.

The game is as much about a philosophy as it is about technique. I understand that this type of training will not replace the customary training in Asia, at least not any time soon. But it is a therapy that can help strengthen the trust and bond between mahout and elephant.

I see now that the training game has the power to heal the deep emotional wounds caused by traditional training, which serves to break the elephant’s spirit. Piza’s love and respect for Jon has grown tremendously over the past few days and the trust and respect returned by Jon is obvious in the way he relates to Piza. Their budding relationship is a gift to behold. Jon’s broken heart is healing. Even thought young Piza might not be aware of the depth of what is happening, he is filled with joy and a fatherly pride in Jon.