The elephant who helped me through one of the darkest periods of my life
One of the most significant moments in my life came one afternoon about five months ago, when I was volunteering in an elephant sanctuary in Thailand. I was tidying the park as part of my duties when I came across a beautiful, solitary elephant with a badly deformed front leg. Concerned as to why she was alone and curious about her physical health, I asked a guide.
Kabu was 26 years old, like me. She had been rescued about a year before but sadly never settled with a herd. She had been used for the illegal logging trade since infancy, pulling huge weights up and down steep mountain ravines. During one of these tortuous journeys, a log came loose, rolled into her and badly broke her leg. Forced to continue working, her injury never healed. When Kabu was finally rescued she was weak and traumatised. When she arrived at the park she had tears rolling from her eyes – from relief, said the guide.
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Wanting a photograph with her, I stood next to her, as I had done with the other elephants. I was not prepared for what happened next; Kabu mirrored my movement and leant into me. As she moved in closer, I could feel her sheer strength against my body. This gave me a sense of safety and security, so I pressed against her further as if to hug her. Moving closer towards her head, I looked into her dark eyes for several moments, and rubbed the top of her trunk. As she looked back at me, I was amazed. Here was an animal who had gone through unspeakable horrors, yet was still willing to trust and give affection to a human.
We were in the Elephant Nature Park (ENP), a 250-acre sanctuary for rescued Asian elephants like Kabu, founded by award-winning conservationist Lek Chailert (known as the “elephant whisperer”). Chailert was born in a mountain village in northern Thailand and grew up in a family that owned an elephant. From a young age, she was devoted to their care. She witnessed the traumatic circumstances in which many Asian elephants live and set about creating safe spaces for them.
An elephant is chained while performing in Yangon zoo during a special celebration in front of a crowd. Photograph: Ye Aung Thu/AFP/Getty
It is a little-known fact that Asian elephants are even more endangered than their African cousins. Perhaps just 50,000 are left. In Thailand there are about 6,000, half of which live in captivity. The ancient tradition of capture and domestication not only raises welfare problems, it is also a strain on the dwindling wild stock. On top of this many, some Asian elephants are subjected to a centuries-old domestication ritual known as “the crush”, which breaks the spirit of a baby elephant to make it submit to human control.
Here was an animal who had gone through unspeakable horrors, yet was still willing to trust a human
Animal rights groups report that some elephants in the south-east Asian tourism industry – whether being used for riding or appearing to calmly paint pictures in the street – have gone through some form of the crush. In the most extreme examples of the crush wild calves are separated from their mothers and tied in a pen so constrictive it cannot move or lie down. This treatment may last for several weeks, and observers describe cases where food, water and sleep are restricted, and injuries are inflicted on the animals.
Elephants are highly sentient, evolved animals, who form lifelong relationships with their families. Anyone who has spent any time with these beautiful creatures cannot doubt their sensitivity and intelligence, and the risk of lifelong damage from treatment such as the crush. Some elephants become withdrawn or behave aggressively towards humans – both examples of how psychological damage can be manifested.
Sangduen ‘Lek’ Chailert, the founder of Chiang Mai’s Elephant Nature Park, sings lullabies to the elephants in her care. Guardian
The ethos of the ENP sanctuary, surrounded by rainforest and rivers, is for rescued elephants to roam completely free, for them never to work and to live out their lives in peace, happiness and fun. They form new family bonds, and some even have calves. While it is still visible how much pain and suffering these animals have endured – some are blind and others are too emotionally unpredictable to interact with humans – most of the elephants are relaxed and enjoy their freedom. ENP largely raises money through sponsorship and tourism. Visitors can stay for one day, or volunteer for up to two weeks (as I did).
And how had I ended up here? A few months earlier I had been sitting in therapy, wrestling with conflicting urges to harm myself or to help myself. After experiences of abuse in my childhood, I began self-harming before I was 13. At this particular moment I was wrestling with hallucinations and beliefs that by hurting myself the disturbing images would go away. This time, however, I realised there could be another solution. I needed to do something life-changing, something that would take me out of my own head and into the world.
Anyone who has spent any time with these beautiful creatures cannot doubt their sensitivity and intelligence
I didn’t initially know where to go. But after some research I found the Elephant Nature Park. Being a vegan and animal advocate, I felt it had the right ethos. While both my therapist and my wife were encouraging, they did have some concerns. Would I be well enough to travel far away? Would I be able to stay safe if I encountered anything that triggered urges to self-harm? What if being in such an environment were disheartening as opposed to inspirational, as I hoped? Although I was giddy with excitement about my grand adventure, I had to admit that these were concerns I shared.
It took an overnight train ride from Bangkok to reach Chiang Mai province in northern Thailand, near the border with Burma. On the first day, everyone met at the ENP office in Chiang Mai city centre for registration and transport to the sanctuary itself. Our minivans were equipped with DVDs about how not to get trodden on by an elephant, something which had fleetingly crossed my mind before but was now crystallised as a legitimate possibility.
‘Elephants are highly sentient, evolved animals, who form lifelong relationships with their families.’ Photograph: Athit Perawongmetha/Reuters
Upon arrival, 50 or so excitable individuals waited to be paired up with roommates and organised into our volunteering groups. They were a lovely group of various ages from all over the world. Our first task was unloading the watermelon truck and filling up the “elephant kitchen”. We each got into single file, passing along watermelons from the van to the many giant shelves that housed the elephant food. I was hit with the heady aroma of sweet fruit, and willed my body to adapt to the heat while shifting the heavy loads.
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My first elephant encounter was in fact rather unexpected; a sneaky trunk peeking around from the back of the kitchen, curious to identify any chopped up pieces of fruit ready for eating. I instantly knew that this was going to be a wonderful fortnight.
The volunteering itself focuses on providing care for the elephants such as bathing, food preparation (I have seen enough watermelons to last a lifetime), and accompanying them to the vets. Volunteers also look after the park; scooping poop (there is a proper technique to this; shovel from the back of the pile, lift up from the centre) tidying shelters and planting trees.
All of us as volunteers were incredibly touched to have the opportunity to stay here and look after the elephants. My group of new friends and I would come together each meal time with new stories and experiences to share, and certain times of day became graced with new importance: 3pm, time to help bathe the elephants; 4pm, feeding time opposite our own dinner table. It would be unrealistic to say that I did not experience intrusive thoughts or that my hallucinations stopped outright, but I felt no need to act upon them, and my happiness far outweighed any negative emotions. The routine and the socialising was important, but the fact that I was helping these amazing creatures was by far the most important factor.
I think being in such an environment was therapeutic for all. There is a wealth of anecdotal evidence that animal assisted therapy can have a real impact on the social and psychological wellbeing of those struggling from both physical and psychological problems. I have a degree in psychology, and being here highlighted to me that there is a need for more formal studies to be conducted to build up the evidence base.
I have returned from ENP with a renewed sense of wanting to face and survive my own pain, actively working towards giving up self-harm. Although I have had challenging moments, I have not self-harmed once since coming back and I am approaching a year free of self-harm altogether. Kabu continues to be a source of inspiration. If an elephant can go through the crush and survive forced labour without giving up hope and trust, then there is no reason why I cannot overcome my own trauma.
Jake Dorothy lives in Cardiff, United Kingdom, with his wife and rescue cat. He works as a mental health trainer and volunteers for LGBT victim support.
If you have been affected by any of the issues raised this article, the Samaritans in the UK can be contacted on 116 123, Lifeline in Australia on 13 11 14 and in the US, the National Suicide Prevention Hotline is 1800 273 8255.