The Jungle Twins

01 January 2011

In October 2010, a rare set of elephant twins was born in Thailand, leading to vibrant media interest.  The birth was a happy surprise partly because it had been the second set of twins born in Thailand in 2010.  Many Thais consider this auspicious, and two sets of twins in one year was very welcome news in the Kingdom.  Stranger still, the first set born this year were reportedly the first male twins in world history.  I cannot verify these claims.  In any case, I set off into the jungle to find the second twins -- both are girls -- and their mother.

Thailand and surrounding countries such as Burma, Laos and Cambodia have been traditional elephant country.  Neighboring Laos is still called “The Land of a Million Elephants,” though that the number is far fewer today.  Some years ago I was in an upstairs museum in Venice, Italy examining very old maps of Asia, and the area that today is known as Laos was marked by drawings of elephants.  In Thailand, elephant symbols, sculptures, paintings and t-Shirts are prevalent.  There is even “Chang Beer,” or elephant beer sold in Thailand.  When Thai children see a baby elephant they can be heard saying, “Luk chang, luk chang!”  (Baby elephant, baby elephant!)

The journey began after sunrise in the town of Chiang Mai in northern Thailand.

The relationship between man and elephant is long, wide, and complicated.  Most elephants in Thailand now are domesticated, and though it’s popular to characterize the elephant as hapless victim, the fact is when elephants get the upper hand they can just as well be the bad guys.  In Thailand, elephants have been known to stand in the road to stop a truck and steal all the pineapples out the back.  In India, a cannibal warned me about angry drunken elephants, which sounded incredible, but I checked into the cannibal’s warnings and they were true.  Elephants in some places like to get drunk on raksi (moonshine) that they steal from the villages, and then will destroy entire villages during drunken rampages.  A drunken group once attacked a power line and several elephants were electrocuted.  Hundreds of humans and homes have been flattened.  Indian villagers have tied hot peppers to ropes and hanged them from trees to burn the elephants’ eyes, or used fireworks to frighten them, or killed the elephants, but the struggle between man and drunken elephant continues.

Elephants and man have competed for the same territory and probably at one time the elephants always got what they wanted.  They are no different than dogs, monkeys, or man: elephants will take what they can get.

As we approached the area where the twins were said to live, we saw an elephant chained to the side of the road, apparently just the prop of a beggar.  We stopped to ask about the twins and this “kwan chang” (mahout) said they had gone far into the jungle but he didn’t know exactly where they were.  He pointed the direction and we kept going.

Little did we know that today’s journey would take us 246 miles (by GPS), and deep, deep into the jungle.

As we headed off the two-lane pavement, at first the road did not require jeep-strength, but soon a 4-wheel drive was needed.  Much of the jungle had been chopped down, and other parts were dotted by primitive agricultural villages.  Looking at their fields one couldn’t help but notice that expert farmers had introduced science to these villages.

Mile after mile, millions of flowers lined the way.  The journey was a feast for the eyes.

We stopped many times to ask directions.  Many did not speak Thai, or only broken Thai, because they were hill tribe people.  All were friendly and helpful.  The two women above said they had heard of the babies but never seen them.  This woman is very friendly and pointing in the wrong direction.  We could only laugh and keep trying, but by now our chances seemed low of finding the twins, and especially before sunset, and with my flight back to America the next day, spending the night in the jungle was not an option.

There were water buffaloes and pigs along the way.

I used a “Trackstick” device to trace our route.  The Trackstick also exports straight to Google Earth and will automatically marry photos to the location they were made.  (I did not marry the photos for this dispatch, but it does work.)

There were almost no road signs out there and many opportunities to take the wrong way.  If you don’t speak Thai or a hill tribe language, it’s probably not a good idea to try this without local help.  Also, if you try this, come loaded with a full tank of gas and plenty of food and water.  There are no stores or gas stations.   (Though I never have problems getting food from villagers anywhere in the world.  Just pat stomach, bring hand to mouth, and you’ll be having dinner.)

Smiles and millions of flowers were the hallmark of the trip so far.

Finally, we found what we thought was the right Karen hill tribe village.  We are about 38 miles (as the rocket flies) from the paved road we drove in on.  The driving route was much farther.

We found the village!

Mae Jum Sam village is at 18° 39.818'N, 98° 8.899'E

It has a rare road sign.  Don’t get used to signs; there are very few.

We drove into the village where it was obvious, as in the other villages, they don’t see many outsiders or palefaces.

There he is!  I remembered Mr. Maearhae’s face from a Thai newspaper that identified him as the owner of the elephants.

Mr. Maearhae’s Thai was not great, and then his Thai was translated to English, and so there is some wiggle room on facts derived from our conversations over the next almost three hours. I asked some questions repeatedly to pin down impressions and try to get to the truth, but there are no guarantees.

We sat down in the village center and people began to gather around.  I figured the story of the elephants and the story of the people are entwined like a rope through time.  To follow one strand is to follow the other.

I asked Mr. Maearhae and others many questions about their lives.  They are ethnic Karen people originally from Burma and don’t know how long their village has been here.  They guessed about 100-200 years. As our conversation unfolded, more and more villagers came around squatting in a semi-circle.  According to villagers, there are 76 houses with about 700 people.  They have running water (there was a blue pipe just by my feet), and their meager electricity comes from solar which runs small florescent lights in the houses.  Some cooking is done with fire and some people have televisions.  They also have a school with two teachers who instruct Thai and other subjects – one kid tried a few English words on me.

The villagers grow or raise much of their own food and also sell rice and corn in the market.  Chickens, pigs and dogs roamed freely in the village and one group of people was squatting with a piglet eating just in their circle.  They have cows and water buffalos.  They like to eat monkeys and rats but the monkeys are far away.  I asked if the monkeys come steal their crops and they said sometimes, but the monkeys are mostly far away because they taste good and so do the wild pigs.

The nearest doctor is 94km (58 miles) away, which I thought must be the driving distance to the paved road, but one must be careful with distances given by the villagers.  All along the way, as we stopped to ask directions while coming here, villagers would say things like, “It’s 10 kilometers more,” when in reality it was more like a hundred.  We heard that about ten different times.  It became a joke.  Same often happens in Nepal – never trust a villager to give the right distance, or time.  They often just pick a number out of the air.

Mr. Maearhae knows who Michael Jackson is, but like some Afghan villagers did not know he is dead.

The villagers say they have opium but not much because they stopped growing it about twenty years ago.  You could see in getting out here that eradication likely would have led to war – just as the King of Thailand believed – and alternative crops was the solution, along with these dirt roads, and later paved roads, to get crops the market.  It would have been hell for an Army to fight in these vast jungles with people who live here permanently.  The Thai government puts much effort into teaching the villagers better farming techniques, which techniques obviously are in use in each village we had driven through.  The Thai counter-opium project was wildly successful.  (There is much to learn here that can help us in Afghanistan.)

The local school has two teachers and about fifty students.

They rarely see any farangs (foreigners), and not even many Thais come out, and no tourists.  I asked if they would mind if tourists visit.  The villagers were excited and said a big thank you that I would tell others it’s okay to come.

So then the villagers started explaining about neat things to see, such as a “giant waterfall” and a deep cave, neither of which did I have time to check out.  The mountains here did not seem big enough for a giant waterfall, but then my ideas of giant waterfalls come from the Himalaya.

They said the cave is about 40m wide and 100m deep, but I had the impression they didn’t know surely.  I tried to pry out more information about the cave, but sounds like they don’t venture down.  In any case, they were excited about the prospects of tourists and said visitors can learn how to feed and take care of elephants, and go riding and learn how to be an actual kwan chang (mahout).   I would suggest travelers think that through that offer before trying.  Kwan changs get flattened now and then.  I asked if the elephants are ever naughty or drink lao cao (rice whiskey), and they laughed at the question and I said, “Hey, Indian elephants drink it!”  They said the elephants are not naughty and also don’t drink lao cao.

But they said if you want to come visit and learn about the Karen lifestyle, please call the village chief (and they pointed to his house but he was gone to town).  The chief is Mr. Pakeur and his cell is 08-6913-1951, but to questionable avail because cell phones don’t work here!

A note on cell phones in remote places:  your cell might not work, but if you stop and ask the villagers in Thailand or in Nepal, they seem to have worked out ever tiny patch of earth where a cell will work.  For instance, one Nepalese village had a piece of bamboo staked in the ground.  It was the only place where you could get a signal in the entire village, and so you had to stand next to that bamboo to talk.  The owner of the nearby house kept his phone atop the bamboo so people could call in.  And so it was true with this village.  They had found an area where the phones worked.

There are no hotels but the villagers said you can stay in their homes for about 1,000 baht/night.  (About $33.)  Again, they were clueless and just threw a number out there.  That price would be negotiable and my guess is that 200 baht a night would actually leave people pretty happy.

They are Christians and have a church.  At some point they had a farang preacher but now the preacher is a local.  I asked if they still sacrifice animals for the ghosts and their old traditions, and Mr. Maearhae said yes, but now only once per year.  They sacrifice a wild pig.  Does not matter if it’s male or female and they do the sacrifice at around New Years time.  (Different peoples have different New Years Days, but they were talking about the same New Years the “mainstream” world uses.)

The villagers were not so hot on time: Mr. Maearhae didn’t know how old he was, but he put out a number (58), which I think he made up.  He didn’t know his birthday but said the kids know their birthdays.  You’ll see the same in many places such as Nepal or Afghanistan, and it’s places like this that remind you how long progress will take in Afghanistan.  Thailand is a very rich country (though it’s hard to convince Thais of that), with a strong government, and yet it’s still very difficult to help raise people out of the jungle life, but Thailand is doing it slowly but surely.   Some anthropologists may be unhappy with this idea of “raising people up,” but one of the alternatives here is that they were raising opium, and so it was that or more war.

After we talked and the villagers fed us, it was time to see the elephant twins in the jungle.   We loaded up with Mr. Maearhae and drove first to a nearby village to get his friend Mr. Kupor, who is “part owner” of the elephants.  I never worked out the details ownership part even after having asked about ten different times.  In any case, they said there are 13 elephants in total with 4 babies, including the twins, and so that makes 9 adults.  We passed by the schoolhouse on the way.

This is a typical house, and so if you come stay it’s a good idea to bring a sleeping pad and bag.  Bring a pocket knife because they can make just about anything out of bamboo and it’s good chance to learn.

You can’t be afraid of dogs, cows, chickens or cobras. Mr. Maearhae said an elephant was killed by a cobra.  There are some giant snakes in Thailand.

We picked up Mr. Kupor in this village and headed even “deeper” into the jungle.  Possibly deeper than Major Payne has ever been.

Misters Kupor and Maearhae said that the elephants don’t work anymore but they just live in the jungle as pets.  I asked how long they’ve had the elephants and the men said they had their mother’s mother’s mother just passed down through time in their own family line.  And so the elephant families and the village families are all twined up together, and when the elephants stopped working, the men said, they kept them sort of like giant dogs.  Just pets.  Can you imagine?   (If there is more to this story, I didn’t work it out in three hours.)

As we bumped down the rough road, elephant signs were everywhere.  Dung in the path – elephant prints in the mud, trees knocked down.  Elephants are like tornados.

Kupor and Maearhae kept asking my guide to stop so they could look.  Finally, they got out, telling us to stay in the truck.

Mr. Maearhae could hear them and so Mr. Kupor went straight into the jungle followed by Maearhae.  A few minutes later, Mr. Maearhae came out of the jungle saying they found the elephants, and that we should drive downhill and they would bring the twins and mom.

So we waited about 15 minutes by a hut, which happened to be a hut were two guards lived who protect the elephants.  “From what?,” I asked.  Apparently there are elephant rustlers in Thailand.  While we waited, I found some rat traps and asked how they work, which is a different little story that I explained on Facebook.

This old gun was hanging on a wall.  Years ago, I went hunting with a Thai villager who had a gun like this.  When he shot a frog, the frog didn’t even die!  Very weak gun.  I ate the frog for breakfast.

And finally there she was.  Momma and her two daughters, whose birthday, Mr. Maearhae said, was 8 October. The very rare luk chang fad, in person.  (Baby elephant twins.)

Mom gave us a hard look but then just walked on by.  She had a chain on her left front foot and so I wondered why she was hard to find in the jungle, but I didn’t ask if she was tied up out there.  (Should have asked.)

Mom’s name is Maekummoon and she 32 years-old.   I asked about the dad, and Mr. Maearhae said the dad was Maekummoon’s brother, and the calves are incest babies.

After a few minutes, Maekummoon let out a loud purr that elephants sometimes do, and so I thought it was safe to come close, and the two men said it was okay.

The babies just looked at us but didn’t come close or seem concerned.  If your mom is an elephant, a grizzly, or a woman with a shotgun, there isn’t much to be concerned about.

The men said that Maekummoon was having some kind of eye problem and they had called the elephant doctor down in Chiang Mai, and he was on his way.  Talk about a house call.  I asked how much it would cost and they said it’s free.  That sounds like a story for another time.  (The higher resolution photos are made with a Canon Mark IV 1d and a 5d Mark II.).

To nurse, or to play, that is the question: the babies couldn’t seem to make up their minds.

The luk chang fad would not stray farther that about the range of momma’s trunk.  They often stayed between her front legs or under her stomach, but if you came close they would come out to play.  The twins don’t have names yet.  Maybe one of those Thai naming competitions might unfold.

The daughters decided simultaneously to go for Misters Kapor and Maearhae.  This one started gnawing on Mr Kapor’s shoulder.  Kapor laughed saying she doesn’t even have teeth.

She kept at it and wrapped her trunk around Kapor’s neck for better gnawing, and Kapor just kept laughing.

Meanwhile, daughter #2 ploughed her head into Mr. Maearhae, who also was laughing and he got lower on the ground to play with her like she is a big puppy.  You could sense that the men love those baby elephants.

She kept at it.

Daughter #2 pulled back for another go, but now Mr. Maearhae decided it was time to turn the tide.

She was like, “Uh Oh!”

“I’m outta here!”

Ran back under mommas’ leg but Mr. Maearha kept after her.  Momma seemed to ignore it all and when I went up to her shoulder, the baby came out and started bumping me, too!  Baby elephants are pretty strong.

Sadly, it was time to go.

The next day I flew back to America but along the flight kept thinking how fun that trip was.  The entire roundtrip was 246 miles from Chiang Mai, though if you don’t get lost like we did, you can probably do it in less than 200 miles and you’ll need about 10 hours.  My Thai guide has a nice 4-wheel drive and his nickname is “Paul.”  (All Thais have a nickname.)  His English is good and you can reach him at:

srivichai1968@hotmailcom
Mobile: +66 80 675 8903

It’s far better to see the elephants living in the jungle than walking around some town begging for bananas.  The closer people get to elephants, the more they’ll want to protect them.

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