Jenny sent me some pictures of the elephant trekking so this post can finally go up! Travel back in time about three weeks ago. The whole OEG group is still at orientation. We had just been dropped off at this beautiful resort with private balconies and two pools and a view of the river where everyone sang karaoke way too late into the evening…
I was told by an OEG alum that riding an elephant was like off-roading with no shock absorbers while the car is stuck in first gear. This description is quite accurate. So when we awoke after a late night no one was feeling great, even those who snuck to bed early, and the prospect of swinging around on an elephant at 7:30 in the morning suddenly didn’t sound so appealing. These feelings evaporated the moment the bus pulled into Taweechai Elephant Camp and everyone spied the baby elephant strutting around the pen near the driveway. We darted off the bus and started snapping hundreds of photos while he posed for us. Then I turned around and saw a massive elephant move inches past me on the way to the boarding platform.
“What to share an elephant with me?” Jenny asked.
“Oh, yeah,” I replied.
We migrated with the rest of the group to these huge platforms where you do your best to climb onto the elephant. I wouldn’t recommend a skirt in this situation, as there is no graceful way to board an elephant. It’s mostly a jump/pull sort of motion followed by a frantic search for the railings of your chair because you feel as though you’re going to fall and get stomped on any minute. Without warning we were off.
Elephants are a lot like the Thais in that they don’t keep to any lanes or speed limits. They seem to enjoy running into each other. They are also thoughtful, like the Thais; one girl dropped her camera and our elephant went right over, picked it up with his trunk and handed it up to our driver.
Our driver was a small Thai man who didn’t say much in the beginning. His mouth is a disgusting palate of blood red, a side affect of eating the local stimulant betel plant. He looks like a zombie munching on someone’s innards. He warmed up to us after a while, getting off the elephant so Jenny and I could take turns riding on the neck. The elephant can feel when your balance is shifting too much to one side and holds your legs to his neck using his ears. Very thoughtful.
There is a chaotically blissful cacophony of American voices all around us. We are all taking pictures of each other, waving to others as their elephant speeds by. I look over to my left at my friend Allison and we start laughing like children who just discovered chocolate. Then she lights a smoke. I’m about to tell her that probably isn’t the smartest idea when I see her passing them out to all the guides on their elephants. I tap mine on the shoulder.
“Excuse me, can I smoke on the elephant?”
“Cheyeah!” was his reply.
After that I sort of left the boundaries of everything I’m comfortable and use to. It wasn’t the normal culture shock feeling I’d been dealing with but something else. I was moving into the realm of the completely absurd. It was so absurd I was sure this wasn’t really happening (remember, still a little dazed form jetlag at this point.) I’m swaying on the back of this mammoth beast with a barefoot, red mouthed zombie dude as my guide. Absurd.
Then we moved into a clearing and the elephants waddled into the river. They started filling their trunks with water, drinking and splashing, getting us wet. I looked around and noticed the mountains densely covered in trees and shrouded in fog. The experience becomes real: I’m on the other side of the world in a jungle smoking a cigarette on an elephant. Cross that one off the bucket list.
beautiful!
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