Who Wants to Wash An Elephant?

On our holiday in Chiang Mai, someone threw out the ridiculous question, “Who wants to wash an elephant?” By a nearly unanimous vote of 7 to 1, we signed up for just such an adventure. I couldn’t think of any better option, that did not involve shopping, so I hopped on board our luxury bus at 8:30 am to head to the jungle.

Our transportation to the Elephant Jungle Sanctuary was actually a small flat bed truck with side seats, a roof canopy and open sides. The eight of us squeezed in, complete with assorted backpacks and elephant washing equipment, and off we roared. I felt like a migrant worker heading off to the fields to pick vegetables and had flashbacks of the Great Depression chronicled in Steinbeck’s Grapes of Wrath. (A little literary reference designed to impress.)

After an hour of singing such relevant work songs as Swing Low, Sweet Chariot and Old Man River we arrived at the final twenty mile stretch that led us up the mountain. The “road” definitely ranked in my top three worst roads ever travelled! It more resembled a dry river bed or a bomb damaged road into Damascus. Only two of our potential hearty elephant washers threatened to return their breakfasts into the bed of the truck on the bumpy drive.

Finally, we arrived at the mountain top and stopped in a hill tribe village that would have carried a no star rating in the Ozark’s. We began by descending about 200 metres to the valley floor and then ascending up the other side. We donned our local “feeding the elephants” shirts in order to appear more ridiculous that we already appeared by huffing and puffing and sweating as though we had just reached the base camp at Everest. 

We were then given a very informal lesson in elephant etiquette and headed up another mountain to make friends with and feed the elephants. And I admit, under no duress, that it was really fun! We were supplied with bags of bananas and cucumbers to feed the elephant family. By approaching the elephant slowly and calling out “bon” or something similar, we held our morsel up in the air and the pachyderm gently took it in its trunk and ate it. Four hundred cukes and ‘nanas later and we had fed the four elephants a mid morning snack. It was a lot of fun seeing the grandchildren develop the courage to feed and pet these rather imposing animals. I scoured the treetops for signs of Tarzan, but he must have been hanging out with Jane. 

We returned to the midway hut for lunch along a path that would have challenged Indiana Jones. The path hugged the side of the mountain and we had to cross cricks on thin twin bamboo poles, vault over deadfall, tiptoe along a muddy one foot wide path and envision our life flashing before us should we slip. Then to really test our mettle, we returned on the same death defying muddy path to bath the elephants, the reason for our special trip in the first place.

Bathing the elephants was an event I passed on, but enjoyed being the paparazzi, taking photos of the family for reasons of future blackmail and memory. The grandkids again were reluctant starters, but quickly began to splash and scrub the dirty elephant hides with a brush. The water babies on the safari had a ball. The Grandpa got his big kick out of recording the extra special event. The last order of the day was to participate in rubbing mud on the elephants to cool them down and heal mosquito bites. I have lived my entire live with an aversion to dirty hands so the last fun activity I wished to partake in was a giant mud pie throwing contest. 

The final highlight of a great day was the return journey across the Indiana Jones obstacle course, the hike up and down two mountains again and a return drive down the highway of detonated land mines. We returned to civilization eight hours after we left, and I still haven’t washed an elephant, but I had a heck of a good time! If you ever go to Thailand, give it a shot!