The One Day with Rescued Heffalumps

At the turn of the century, Thailand boasted a population of nationally-revered Asian elephants 100,000 strong. By 1990, with the logging industry abolished in Thailand's diminishing rainforests, the elephant population, including of thousands of "working elephants", had fallen to an alarming 5,000. Today, a little over half of that number exists in the wild and in captivity. Alarming? Yes. Moving? Not until you've met some of these incredible creatures.

Arriving in Chiang Mai, visiting an elephant sanctuary was not at the forefront of my plans as a tourist in this thriving city and surrounding rainforests. But, after seeing a brochure for elephant rides -I took one look at a picture of a fat white man riding an elephant, a huge grin on his face, and a menacing sharply hooked cane in his hand, and I had second thoughts. With a recommendation from several friends to visit a small elephant sanctuary outside of the city, I began looking into the tour. At first I balked at the price: $2500 baht for a one-day visit (to give you an idea of how much this costs: meals are about $30 baht and a nights accomodation is around $150, an all-inclusive 3-day jungle trek including an elephant ride was only $1600), by the time I left the Elephant Nature Park, I was wishing I had $25,000 baht just to donate to the place!

Driving out to the park, I became painfully aware of why sanctuaries are needed in Thailand. We passed several elephant camps in which the animals looked overworked, underfed, and stooped with heartbreaking indignation. Pulling into the Elephant Nature Park, we were immediately greeted by a healthy looking 10ft tall bull elephant who had decided the park's driveway was a good place to have a snack from the hanging tree limbs. His mahout (trainer) had to resort to bribes of banana's to get the 6-ton animal to move out of the way.

After unloading from the van, our group was immediately given a safety briefing. I was humourously impressed by the examples of innapropriate (idiotic) behavior the tour guide gave us; it continues to amaze me how stupid people can be, especially in the presence of the worlds biggest and strongest walking animal. With a healthy dose of caution, we were led to the feeding pens where I had my first interaction with the big guys. I was obviously struck by the sheer size of both male and female elephants, but when their trunks wrapped around my hand to pluck the fruit from my grasps, I was shocked by the grainy thick skin and sheer muscular power of even the smallest elephant's trunk. Within minutes I was thouroughly in awe of the majestic nature of these huge creatures.

Next came bathing and a chance to meet an incredible woman who began the park in 1995. The elephants were led to a large and muddy river where they stood patiently as groups of tourists, including myself, hucked buckets of water all over their grey and pink bodies. Not many animals would take kindly to being drenched, but the elephants seemed happy to help us by hoovering water through their trunks before spraying it along their own backsides. Wet, muddy, and feeling overjoyed through my interaction with the gentle giants, I made my way toward the main buidling to washup before lunch. Wandering along a viewing deck, a petite Thai woman greeted me. After asking my name and where I was from, she kindly inquired how I was enjoying my day. Mid sentance I realized who I was talking to: Lek, the Park's founder and director. I almost stopped speaking just to hug the tiny woman, who's name means "little" in Thai. Not wanting to take up the busy woman's time, I told her I was having an incredible day, commended her for her dedicated work, and took her business card in the event I can ever manage to give back to the inspirational sanctuary.

I left Lek to her work, and the rest of the group settled in for a delicious Thai-style lunch. The mood was almost festive as complete strangers joyously talked and interacted, even the dogs were happily about. But it was not to last: shortly after lunch we were shown a documentary about the Park. It focused on the plight of the 34 animals who had been rescued and brought to the park and the incredible odds Lek defied to make the sanctuary a reality. We learned of Hope - a young elephant rescued as an infant after his mother was killed by farmers for wandering into their crops (which were located sheer feet from their encroached natural habitat), Chang Mae -a former working elephant who was blinded after her hours-old baby was left to die and she refused to work, Lilly -who's back was visibly broken in several places from carrying too-heavy tourists on too-heavy riding chairs, and Mae Do a 70-year-old female who because her broken hip (caused by being chained to posts during forced breeding) had been begging on the streets for her owner's profit.

The film was sad but served its purpose of making even the most aloof tourist into an animal rights activist (if only for the day). For me, it was a reminder of the falability of human nature and the inpirational change that can come from the most unlikliest of people and places. With a newfound respect for the elephants we had spent the day with (and the hundreds of employees and volunteers who run the sanctuary), I said my goodbye's to the Park and it's inhabitans before climbing into the waiting van. In the fading sunlight I reflected on my day and the how unexpectedly moved I had been by the experience. My mind wandered to thoughts of Lek and how one woman had risen from poverty to create one of the most successful and inspiring non-profits in the world. That day my world was changed. Lek and her elehpants made me believe that tomorrow, I too could change the world. 

-Ash

http://www.elephantnaturepark.org/

The One Time We Got Lost in Bangkok

'Dis way! Dis way!' the tuk-tuk driver yelled at us as he took a corner going well over the speed limit. The three-wheeled motorcycle squealed with protest as we shifted our weight in the direction the driver motioned and somehow whipped around the corner without overturning.

The other tuk-tuk team.

'This is INSANE!' I screamed.

'We're going to die!' Someone else shouted over the blare of the motor.As we shot between two hot pink Bangkok-style taxis the driver shifted gears and raced ahead to catch up with the tuk-tuk carrying our friends. 'Why did we tell him to race the other driver?'

'Because we want to WIN!!!' I yelled, followed by a half scream that turned into a shrill laugh of panic as we took another corner. 'Go go go!' I encouraged as we made the corner, flying past the other tuk-tuk. The motor noise was deafening, along with the wind blowing past at a bajillion miles and hour. We were on a vehicle that would never pass any street-worthy standards in the western world, and the whole ride was only costing the group two US dollars!

Convinced that another block of racing each other would end badly, I began voicing this concern when we joltingly slowed and pulled into a parking lot. Without hesitation, I rushed to untangle myself from the jumble of arms and legs around me. Finally on my own two feet I looked around and realized we were out in the middle of nowhere. The only other white people around were my friends and the locals were all looking at us strangely. To be fair, we were trying to find a bar across the street from a 7-Eleven, miles from downtwon Bangkok. The only problem is that there are over 5,000 7-Elevens in the city and none of us were too sure that this particular store in front of us was the correct one. Within a kilometer in either direction there were at least eight or nine of the mini marts. So, like all smart tourists, we walked in circles for nearly a half hour before asking for directions.

Waving a small square of paper around with Connor's friend's VERY bad directions written on it, I was able to attract the attention of a lovely young Thai woman who spoke broken English. After reading the paragraph of directions and the two or three words we had gotten translated into Thai, she shrugged, looked up, and mentioned it was going to rain, 'very hard, very soon'. We took note and then stood helplessly as nearly every Thai within earshot took his/her turn in trying to help us figure out where we were trying to go. When it became clear that a) the directions were absolutely useless, and b) it really was going to rain soon, we cautiously followed a middle-aged Thai man into a less than dodgy alley. 

Rain and dark alley lights didn't stop
 this badminton match!

Once in the alley, the man (who had a brilliantly friendly smile, as do most Thai's) proceeded to take a bottle of Thai rum out of his mobile bar and poured the lot of us a round of double-shots. As the shots went down the sky opened up and torrential sheets of rain drenched the sidewalk in front of us. Realizing we were not going anywhere until the storm passed, we settled in to teach the locals a few drinking games. Playing cards turned into playing badminton and before we knew it, the rain had stopped and the contents of the rum bottle were gone. A helpful local insisted we have her brother drive us to where the crew of street vendors and shop keepers had concluded we needed to be. Our group, deciding that things would have already gone bad if the locals meant us any harm, tried to pay the mobile-bar man (he refused to take our money) before piling into a plush 15-seater van.

We drove for some time before the young Thai pulled over in front of a very hip looking bar full of Thai university students. Connor jumped out, surveyed the scene, and announced, 'This is the place!' We enthusiastically cheered, thanked the van driver profusely and stumbled out. Once we began crossing the street Connor admitted, 'Guys, I have no clue where we are or who is inside there, but I felt bad so I told the dude driving us we were at the right place.' At that point I don't think any of us cared!

The taxi ride back to Bangkok

Once inside the bar we were informed that only entire bottles of whiskey or vodka were available for purchase - so we got a few of each. Soon an Australian couple joined our posse and we closed down the place. Anna, one of the Aussies, had been living in the city for some time and suggested she escort us back to our accommodation. We convinced the cabbie to let all seven of us ride together and, crammed in like sardines, we raced back to the city. 

The rest of the evening is a bit foggy. Buckets (take a cocktail and super-size it) were consumed, dancing was done, and I believe I made a few phone calls to the States. By the time we made it back to the hotel, sunlight was streaming through the windows. Yes, the hangover was severe, and no, Connor did not catch me on video praying to the toilet gods (regardless to what he may claim or have evidence of)! It was a highly entertaining, if not slightly irresponsible night, but in the end we were all safe and sound in our beds... if not a bit worse for wear!

Fun Fact: Bangkok is actually just a westernized version of the city's Thai name which is (get ready): Krung Thep Mahanakhon Amon Rattanakosin Mahinthara Ayuthaya Mahadilok Phop Noppharat Ratchathani Burirom Udomratchaniwet Mahasathan Amon Piman Awatan Sathit Sakkathattiya Witsanukam Prasit

The One Where I Engage in Monkey Warfare

Looking 30 meters below me I could only see my mate Connor as he looked up the cliff to check my progress. My feet were pressed between two 25-foot stalactites (think creepy caves) and three chalked fingers on my left hand were keeping me upright as I squeezed them furiously into a small hole in the rockface. My right hand searched frantically for a higher hold before finding enough of a grip on a slimy stalagmite to pull myself upward. One more tricky (and not-so smooth looking) move with my feet and I was standing upright on a small ledge. Finally, I was able to rest after 12 exhausting minutes of rock climbing.

Dripping with sweat in the tropical heat, I heaved air into my lungs and flexed my screaming muscles. The anchor point for the rope in which I was harnessed into was only another five meters above my head but already I was higher than I’ve ever climbed on anything before.  I was mentally preparing for the last surge of energy that would bring me to the top of the climbing route when I heard a rustle in the bushes and a less than friendly growl.  Suddenly, a monkey the size of a house cat jumped into view and effortlessly rushed toward me on the near vertical wall. I screamed. He screeched. I screamed some more. ‘Monkey! There’s a monkey up here! AHHHHHH!’ My last terrifying yell caused the monkey to bare his fangs before disappearing silently out of sight.  Dave, the cruisey and calm guy who was belaying me asked if I wanted to come down. I tried to gain some sort of composure, thought about being attacked by an 8lb monkey on his home turf, and decided not to push my luck.

Once my feet were back on horizontal ground, Connor pointed over to two others in our rock climbing party.  Both Mandy (a ripped Aussie who climbs like it’s her birthright) and Katrina were climbing to our right, directly below a cave. Somehow during my short climb a clan of 40 or 50 monkeys had descended into the cave. Our friends were surrounded. To their credit, Mandy and Katrina quietly got off the wall and calmly moved away from the primate family.

That’s when the first rock flew past my head.

Confused as to how a rock had landed so close to me when I was so far from the wall, I looked up just in time to see a juvenile monkey huck a rock that nearly caught me in the shoulder. ‘Uh guys? I think the monkeys are throwing rocks at us!’ I called out.

‘Really?’ Dave asked incredulously.

‘Monkeys don’t know how to throw rocks at people.’ Connor answered, just as another rock exploded on the boulder directly in front of him. ‘Sh*t ! The monkeys are throwing rocks!’ He laughed out as he and the others rushed closer to the cliff wall and out of the monkey’s range. I waited for Curious George to leave his post (probably to reload) before making a mad dash myself.

For the better part of a half hour ,the five of us ‘superior’ primates lay helplessly pinned against a wall as a three-year-old monkey pelted rocks from his perch every minute or so. Mandy pointed out that I had started this whole guerilla warfare when earlier in the day I had thrown a rock at some monkeys who had been trying to get into our gear… I still claim innocence.

As soon as they had arrived, the crew of monkeys left and we were finally able to move from our shelter. Scanning the mouth of the cave, we noticed the smart little buggers had left two or three of their family members behind to guard the cave. Over the next hour we proceeded to climb quietly and cautiously. It seemed that without the rest of the family around we posed less of a threat.  After several climbs each we finally packed up our gear and called it a day. Definitely the most exciting one in Ton Sai to date!

I arrived in the tiny climbing mecca of Ton Sai a week ago. My expectations were to check out the sights, play on the beach, watch people climb some of the most famous cliffs in the world, and just maybe - give climbing a go myself. Then I met who I refer to as the “Colorado Boys”. This crew of seven young men are a combination of childhood friends, school/work mates, and Sebastian, the token Canadian.  All the boys are accomplished rock climbers with Tyson having climbed the longest and Seb having less than a year under his belt (but don’t let that fool you, he climbs things that scare me to look at). Mike and Thew (a much more original shortened Mathew) are brothers and Connor and Jeremy are their childhood friends. Dave is the groups lone-ranger who also doubles as Mike’s best friend.

The irony of meeting these boys began before I had even met them. In one of my ‘what am I going to do with my life?’ Internet searches, I had come across an adventure travel company called Bold Earth Adventures. Within minutes of surfing their website I added it to my list of “Jobs you would sell your soul to have” and thought I would look into it further when I got home. Low and behold within a half hour of meeting the Colorado Boys over lunch they began to asked the typical series of questions one traveler asks another including, ‘So what do you do for work?’ I half explained a handful of the jobs I’ve had over the past few years before saying that what I really wanted to do is work for an adventure travel company. Suddenly Thew perks up and tells me that’s what most of the group does every summer and that his brother Mike is one of the managers for a company in Colorado. I ask the name and nearly die when he says, Bold Earth Adventures. High on the ironies of life, I show him my notebook and turn to the “Jobs you would sell your soul to have” list and he is almost as surprised as I am by the coincidence. As if I had spoken some secret password, I was in like flynn with the Boys and we haven’t looked back.

Then something happened that I had never expected: I fell in love… with rock climbing. The Colorado Boys invited me to come climbing with them despite my lack of experience (note: my experience = zero if you don’t count the time I went rock climbing indoors with girl scouts). After borrowing what seemed like a piece of equipment from almost everyone, I was shakily taking my first steps on vertical rock. Tyson looked as if he might fall asleep at any moment while belaying me (meaning the climb was that easy) while I, on the other hand, would climb a few feet before stupidly looking down and becoming paralyzed with fear. A few confident words of encouragement from Tyson and I would relax enough to move up a bit more. I finally made the ascent and heaved an exhilarated sigh of relief as rush of adrenaline coursed through me. 

Over the past few days I have done a number of climbs of varying levels of difficulty, but always with an extremely supportive and helpful crew of fellow climbers. A few routes have left me too pumped to send (translation for normal people: some climbs were too hard for me to get to the top) but for maybe the first time in my sporting career; I’m not too bothered by my lack of ability. Just getting on the wall and doing a move that I didn’t think I could do, or getting higher than I expected to get, is enough to leave me smiling for hours. The vibe here is unreal and my two-day stopover has turned into a two-week adrenaline-filled adventure!  And to top it all off (Desi), I’ve even started doing Yoga. =)

-Ash

Fun Fact: Minutes before the 2004 Tsunami hit the west coast of Thailand, climbers high on the cliffs above Ton Sai Bay could see the massive wave coming and were able to warn everyone below to run to high ground. Unfortunately, many climbers did not have time to rappel to safety and were forced to clip into the rock walls and pray. Luckily no climbers were hurt, though many were stuck for hours, and in some cases, through the night before rescue was possible.             

  

The One Where a Blind Lady Upchucks, I Teach the ABC's, and a Tourist Gets Ripped Off

I have bad line karma, this is a fact. So of course when I go to use an ATM I get behind this harmless looking Thai woman who is nervously withdrawing large amounts of money from the machine. The money comes, her card is spit out and immediately she shoves it back in and starts the whole process of withdrawing the maximum amount allowed again. 'Odd...' I think to myself as I wait for her to finish. After her sixth or seventh withdrawal I am now very curious as to why someone would need to take that much money out of an ATM. Then it dawns on me... its probably not her card. I look at my mates and ask, "Is it normal to take out that much money?" and one of the boys responds with, "Do you really think that's her card? Some poor tourist bastard is getting ripped off and doesn't even know it yet." Welcome to Thailand eh? Not that there is much we could do in the situation. By the time we realized what she was doing she hurriedly made one last grab for cash and then practically ran across the street and ducked into an ally. If I wasn't already being careful about my cash and cards i'm hyper alert now!

Despite the scams and cons and rip-offs (which in most cases only cost the average tourist a few bucks and are about as common as identity theft in the US -which I have been a victim of twice) Thailand has been filled with friendly helpful folks and some incredible scenery.

The boys and I started our journey into Thailand at the Thai embassy in northern Malaysia. While waiting for our free visas I was happily munching on some fruit when I noticed something crawling in my bag. I nonchalantly picked it out, only to realize it was a scorpion! I quickly hucked it into the grass with a yelp that ended in laugh of relief that it hadn't stung me! Once our passports were stamped we haggled a taxi driver to take us to the border. A relentless argument ensued before we got the guy to agree to what we considered a fair price... a few hours later we found out we had jipped the guy almost half the expected rate. I felt bad but by the time we were crossing into Thailand we had a whole day of travel negotiations ahead of us. The highly "dangerous" border crossing was uneventful and we soon found ourselves in a minivan headed to the west coast. We weaved in and out of military road blocks at break=neck speed and when a storm turned into a downpour the driver didn't bother to slow down as we hydroplaned all over the shop.

When Llouis, Guilliem and myself boarded a bus I was relieved to have a few hours of carefree travel. I even got a cute blind old lady as a seat-mate and was enjoying her jabber toward me (she obviously didn't realize I was a foreigner) when suddenly, Grandma's chatter stopped and she rapidly pulled out a plastic bag before vomiting her lunch into it. And I thought the hydroplaning was bad! The up-chucks lasted the duration of the trip as I willed myself not to join the party. Arriving in a little coastal town called Satun, the boys and I raced through a downpour to find a hotel room. To save on money we pushed the two small beds together and exhaustedly slept three across. The next morning, in our search for a bus station, we came across an American named Harry. Harry has been living in Thailand for over a decade and was most helpful with directions and advice. He was so interesting that we all decided to have a chat. Low and behold it turns out that Harry graduated from Chico High School a few decades before I was born. His description of Chico in the 'good 'ol days' was a far cry from the hometown I know and love, and boy did he have a few hilarious stories! From getting drunk with the high school janitor to stealing the school bus to go joy riding, this guy and his buddies made even the biggest pranksters in my classes seem like amateurs!

Biding adieu to Harry, we began our journey to the tropical Island of Ko Lipe. The tiny Island is about the size of Chico State's campus and is home to both aboriginal fishing villagers and ethnic Thais. Right away the boys began an advanced diving course as I took a few days to acquaint myself with the Island. In between downpours that were loud enough to drown out conversation, I wandered the beaches and even spent a half day gardening with two incredibly nice Thai women who shared the same name. The next afternoon some local kids bounded up the steps and made themselves at home on my porch. Soon we were playing tic-tac-toe and I was giving an impromptu English lesson to the two older girls. Within an hour they were all happily singing the 'ABC's' and trying the hand-motions of the 'Itsy Bitsy Spider'.

Another afternoon was spent snorkeling as the boys practised their diving a few meters below me. At lunch we boated to a tiny village of aboriginal fishermen and their families. We had coffee and cakes with one of the village elders as children around us played this awesome game that could only be described as extreme dodgeball mixed with bowling and freeze tag. After lunch and our village visit, the boat went to the second dive sight. One look at the deep bottomless water and massive swells and there was no way in hell I was getting off that boat. So instead I waited an hour as the boat Capitan fished using aboriginal fishing methods (no rod and an interesting jerking motion with the fishing line). As the wind picked up and the swells got bigger, I became greener and woozier. I willed myself to keep lunch down by singing every song I've ever even partially memorized, even continuing to sing as the divers returned and we sped to shore.

A few more rainy days, some coconut eating, and several enthralling conversations with an English gentleman named Al and we were leaving Ko Lipe and headed for the mainland. A HORRENDOUS two-hour boat ride (during which I was convinced we were going to capsize in the 4-8 meter high swells) and I was safely ashore. The Spaniards (Llouis and GuilL) and I are now in Krabi as we organize a rock-climbing trip over the course of the next week. I was lucky enough to run into a Czech guy named Radek who happens to be a climbing guru so the boys and I have lessons in exchange for beer! Let the good times roll!