Around The World 2005-2007 travel blog

Almost Off Gefallen

Dang Dusty Elephant

Elephant Draw Elephant

Elephant Dung Snack

Elephant's Ear

Flying Dismount

Graduate Mahouts

Hauling Sugarcane

Making Elephant Dung Paper

Out of the Bath

Supat's Favorite

Trust Your Elephant

Watering Buddies

Uta Unchained

Cool Mahout


Elephant Antics

Elephant Drummer

Elephant Picasso

I Walk the Line

Copyright 2005

David Rich 1200 Words

40 Thai Baht=$1


I can identify with kids who hunger to join the circus. Personally, I've always wanted to boss around elephants. When I stumbled onto the website for a mahout school an hour south of Chiang Mai, Thailand, I knew I'd found my ideal back-up profession: elephant trainer supreme.

I grabbed the Elephant Conservation Center's first available three-day course, arriving with half a dozen excited students: a young German couple, Dutch sisters, a miniature Japanese girl and me. Supat, the course manager, escorted us to our home-stay quarters and handed out schedules listing the 14 basic elephant commands, none of which I could begin to pronounce. First hurdle: darn Thai elephants only speak Thai.

We donned baggy pants and spiffy shirts in bright blue denim, instant mahouts-in-training. Then came the big moment, introduction to "our" elephants. I solemnly shook Piajaub's trunk and she shook me down for bananas. Piajaub was a good-natured patriarch 72-years young, a feisty 5-ton behemoth of a blimp with a nose for trouble. Her occasional sudden gallops and frisking of fellow elephants were attributed to out-of-kilter hormones.

Uta, the German woman, and one of the nearly identical Dutch sisters, drew elephants that relegated them to living on gray submarines. When bathing, their elephants would sink, leaving them soaked to the tops of their frazzled blonde heads. Still, Uta loved every minute, wearing the widest grin for three straight days. The Japanese girl was assigned a near-baby elephant making them the cutest matched set. And we were off to the races.

First assignment, second hurdle, demand song soong and climb up the big-gray skyscraper from the side, onto the horny hairy head. When I'd pronounce song soong correctly, Piajaub would lift a huge front leg as a step stool. I'd leap and she'd lift, half tossing me onto her back. The execution of song soong assumed the immaculate coordination I'd never had, affording plentiful opportunity for repetition. Next came tag long, jumping down over her lowered head. Then non long, instructing Piajaub to lay down, requiring a scramble to avoid her sprawling on top of me. Every day we'd practice and repeat our 14 commands, sometimes to effect.

On the first trek into the jungle we quickly learned the most repeated command is bai, which means "GO". The jungle to an elephant is like a chocolate factory to a Willie Wonka kid; every jungle bit is luscious, edible and available. An elephant the size of Piajaub devours 200 kilos (440 lbs.) of fodder a day, an enormity of leaves, bananas and sugar cane. The Conservation Center's fifty-elephant results are reams of elephant dung paper.

Our next assignment was the joy of making paper. Fortunately, the near-National Basketball Association-sized dung had been bleached and washed before, up to our elbows, we re-molded it into 400 gram (one pound) balls. We remixed the pure fiber with water and jell, and swished it onto screens for drying into elegant papers tie-dyed into in a millennium of pastel hues.

The only downer was visiting the elephant hospital. About half the bulky gray patients had stepped on land mines littering the Thai/Myanmar border. The more unlucky half had become constipated. Land mine wounds eventually heal but a bowel-constricted elephant is often on the short list for the big tusk depository in the sky.

Elephants play so well together and with their mahouts that they become big gray dust-bunnies. Our last duty at night, after trekking into the jungle, and first in the morning when retrieving our charges, was to bathe the elephants. For the elephants, bathing was pure relaxation and playtime. For mahouts-in-training it was dodging exuberant trunk showers and playing submarine, while attempting to avoid bobbing paper-wannabees.

The evening jungle trek ended with chaining our elephant to a tree surrounded by an evening's bliss of munchables and dirt to roll in. On the trek in we'd bob high through the green morass and snarl, chains rattling, as our elephants galumphed majestically through the foliage. Sitting on the chain loops branded our butts like Cheerios strung across a bowl of milk.

In the mornings we'd tote in 10-foot (3 meter) sugarcane treats to begin the jolly giants' day in a good mood. First, we'd unhook the chain and bark, "Non long." When the elephants played dead, sugarcane clamped in their jaws, we'd whomp them with bundles of branches to dust off the night's accumulation of dirt. Then we'd mount up and galumph off for the splish-splash of their happy morning bath.

Every day was show time for the tourists flocking worldwide to the Elephant Conservation Center. I sat with Supat as he busily clicked his 8 megabyte Canon Digital camera at what must have been the thousandth time he'd watched the show. Utterly curious, I asked why he was still so enamored of elephants. He lowered the camera a split second and said, "Because they're so danged smart."

Supat was right on, illustrated twice daily at show time. Four elephants have formed their own jazz band, working on improvisations with marimba, gong, drums, cymbals and percussion, tutored by a jazz aficionado from New York City two week a year. Budding Picassos pen bouquets of daffodils and abstracts. One precocious big-gray chap produces a meticulous self portrait with mahout perched on top. The elephants are unaided in their art, the mahout's only role to dab paint on the brush.

The daily shows begin with a baby elephant raising the blue elephant flag. The elephants gently place a hat on their mahout's head, kick around a log, stack logs, balance on logs, play a concert, paint and generally cavort like kids in a chocolate factory. The mahouts-in-training put their elephants through routines: grab a floppy ear and jump up their sides, sliding off over their trunks, backing up their elephants and dropping spikes for the elephants to retrieve. On the third day those who don't flub will receive their diplomas, graduating to full-fledged mahouts.

Several nameless mahouts-in-training never properly learned the impossible-to-perfectly-pronounce Thai commands. Though Supat patiently took us through the unfamiliar words, after days of drill some of us necessarily turned inventive. We memorized the show-time routine followed faithfully and perfectly by our brilliant elephants, a mental crib-sheet for graduation. As we stood in the spotlights before the cheering crowd and accepted our diplomas, we realized that we, along with Uta, had been smiling for three straight days. Far more than qualifying in a back-up profession, we were the world's newest and happiest mahouts, and actually think we can boss around elephants.

When You Enroll in the School for Mahouts: See for available course-days, usually a month's wait, and sign up. Supat has posted great photos and detailed descriptions of the various programs offered at the Elephant Conservation Center. The three day course, including excellent Thai home-cooking, is $100, all inclusive. Plus Supat, photography-nut extraordinaire, provides each graduate mahout with a DVD of 1200 photos. These candid shots immortalize their happy little group for a reasonable $12.50. Sign up now for a three day smile.

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