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Drag Chains and Training

Elephant’s World posted two videos on YouTube last week of me training a young elephant named Jon (you can view them here and here). I was surprised to see the videos and happy to know they exist.

Many people found the videos interesting and some have asked why Jon is wearing a chain. The chain is called a drag chain; in Asia it is used to prevent an elephant from running away. One end of the long chain is fastened around an elephant’s wrist and the other end drags behind.

When a mahout is afraid that his elephant will run away, he puts a drag chain on him. If the elephant runs, the mahout wraps the loose end of the chain around a tree to stop him.

The mahouts at Elephant’s World were resistant to non-dominance training and even more resistant to removing Jon’s drag chain. In order to be allowed to demonstrate positive reinforcement target training, I agreed to the drag chain for the first two sessions. One end of the chain was on Jon’s ankle and the other end was loose.

My adherence to their tradition gave the mahouts time to get comfortable with the new training method I offered. They observed firsthand that Jon was more interested in the training game than in trying to get away.

Jon showed such promise that after the second training session the mahouts agreed to remove the chain.

There have also been questions about the “stick” used during training. The stick, or target as it is called, is a flexible pole with a soft cushion on the end. Watch my training tutorial to see how the target is used and learn the basic concept of target training.

The goal is to teach an elephant the name/word for different body parts, such as foot, head, ear, side, etc. Once understood—which takes most elephants only minutes to grasp—the elephant will voluntarily offer that body part when asked. The key is to ask, not demand, and always provide praise and a treat as a reward.

Before watching the videos of Jon’s training sessions, I suggest that you view the tutorial a couple of times. Then watch Jon’s first training session and see if you can identify what body parts Jon is learning. Notice that when Jon becomes frustrated he walks away, but returns almost immediately to try again.

Positive Reinforcement Target Training gives the elephant the freedom to walk away, take a moment to reflect on what is happening and return when he is ready to try again. Walking away reduces frustration and increases the elephant’s willingness to participate.

You will also notice in the video that Jon offers behaviors–kneel and lie down. This is common in initial training sessions. Many times the elephant will offer what s/he already knows before starting to “problem solve” and figure out what the trainer is trying to teach.

Learning to think for themselves is the first thing the elephants learn. After that, training is a breeze.

August 12, 2012
Welcoming Dr. Arjun Pandit to Our Team

Earlier this month, Elephant Aid International, in collaboration with the National Trust for Nature Conservation, engaged Dr. Arjun Pandit to oversee its elephant welfare projects in Nepal.

Dr. Arjun Pandit

While interviewing Dr. Pandit I was pleased to learn of his interest in elephants. We’re very fortunate to secure the services of such a highly motivated individual. He will make a great addition to our team, expanding our ability to develop and monitor elephant welfare programs in Nepal.

Dr. Pandit will have full-time oversight of the many projects developed by EAI/NTNC over the next few years. When I am in Nepal, he will assist with foot care and facility and welfare projects, as well as monitoring the health and welfare of the NTNC elephants. In my absence, he will oversee all of our projects, ensuring that they stay on track.

Dr. Kamal Giarde, the senior government veterinarian has graciously agreed to allow Dr. Pandit to participate in field work to increase his experience and expertise. Dr. Giarde has dedicated his life to elephant welfare and recognizes the importance of mentoring to build sustainable elephant welfare programs. Dr. Pandit and the elephants he will care for over the next many decades will benefit from Dr. Giarde’s guidance.

I am honored to work with such a dedicated team of like-minded conservationists at NTNC. We share a commitment to the welfare of Nepal’s elephants.

We are currently raising funds necessary to provide a salary and purchase equipment and supplies for Dr. Pandit for the next year.

July 31, 2012
Jon
Last year I had the honor of working with a young, energetic elephant named Jon. He was a recent rescue, living at Elephant’s World, a Thai-run facility outside of Bangkok.

To my surprise, two videos of Jon’s first training sessions showed up on YouTube (here and here). I was unaware that the videos even existed.

Watching Jon brought back a flood of memories: his intelligence, how he dealt with his initial distrust and confusion and how well he masked his fear. His energy was explosive and outdone only by his genius.

I can’t help but smile remembering his antics and eagerness to understand this new “game” — and his determination to prove that he could do anything!

Read more about Jon:
July 31, 2012
Rock Quarry Activity in India

Recently I read a scathing online article criticizing the India government for failure to enforce an order it issued on January 9, 1991. The order states that “No quarry or quarry lease should be granted to units in the one-km radius around the boundary of a national park.” The order was meant to preserve the no-quarry-zone as a safe zone for wildlife.

I am personally familiar with this problem. For three months this past spring I lived in Bannerghatta, the center of quarry activity.

Hundreds, if not thousands, of villagers live in this area. Many hundreds of these same villagers are employed by the quarry, creating a dilemma: protect the wildlife, the forest and public health or make jobs the priority.

The villages are poor, with limited means of generating a living outside of raising livestock and growing crops. Quarry work is a welcome alternative for many of them. In my area, one village has prospered immensely due to their close affiliation with the quarry. Dump trucks line the village road each evening as workers return from hauling rocks from the quarry to wholesalers. Their work is very lucrative.

Unfortunately, the personal downside to the quarry seems to have escaped the villagers. Chances are they are unaware of how detrimental it is to their health to breathe in the fine dust the quarry creates. In addition to transporting truckloads of the blasted rock, many workers spend the entire day smashing rocks—by hand—into small pebbles to create gravel for road beds. The dust created by their labor is thick in the air and they breathe it for hours on end. Much like black lung disease, which affects coal miners, lung disease is a real concern for these laborers. But no one seems to be concerned about their welfare.

My house sits at the bottom of a hill only a few hundred meters from the national forest. I could not see the quarry from my location, I felt its presence every day.

I could track the quarry’s illegal activity like clockwork. When the sun set and dusk slipped into darkness, a shockingly deafening series of dynamite blasts would rock the land, causing me to nearly jump out of my skin. Even though I knew to expect the blasts, their intensity always shocked me. Sitting on my porch I could feel the vibration of huge granite boulders splitting apart, followed by the unnerving echoes of the blast reverberating over the hill into the adjacent forest. Following the blasts came the ghostly sound of tons of rubble cascading down the side of the quarry, bringing with it a thick cloud of granite dust particles that covered every surface, inhaled by all breathing beings within miles of the quarry.

As result of non-enforcement, the blasting continues unabated, leaving behind a layer of dust on everything. Leaves, plants, furniture, floors and even the lake are covered with a layer of fine granite dust. The daily ritual of dusting and sweeping was a constant reminder of what we and the forest residents inhaled with each breath.

According to M Devaraj, deputy conservator of forests, Bannerghatta National Park, “We are authorized to remove the quarry equipment or stop quarrying if the quarries are inside the forest. But since all these quarries are in revenue land, it is the duty of the revenue and mines and geology departments to stop quarrying as per the 20-year-old government order.’’

The government’s reluctance to enforce the order mirrors their response to other orders meant to protect the forests and her inhabitants. Just as the government order to remove elephants from zoos has lacked enforcement, the quarry order has failed to benefit those it intends to protect. Although government orders indicate knowledge of what is right, the lack of enforcement leaves one to question the real purpose of their enactment.

It takes a brave person to speak out in India. I am encouraged that Y Maheswara Reddy, DNA, spoke out about the illegal quarry activity. If enough people are willing to do the same, perhaps change will begin and the wildlife and forest can experience some level of protection from potentially lethal activity.

Read the original article written by Y Maheswara Reddy.

July 25, 2012
Sweetie Kali’s Water Trough

Paspat, mahout supervisor

When Paspat, the mahout supervisor at National Trust for Nature Conservation, asked about a water trough for Sweetie Kali, I nearly fell off my chair. Seriously— his question was a shocker because captive elephants are not given free-choice access to anything in Asia. The belief is that allowing them to make choices will spoil them for their mahouts. The great fear is that if elephants experience a sense of freedom and are content, they will refuse to respond to their mahouts.

The fact that Paspat asked for a water trough reinforced my belief that he genuinely cares about his elephants’ welfare. Even in the United States— land of the brave, home of the free—many captive elephants are not given free-choice access to water.

I was deeply touched by Paspat’s request—so outside of the normal thinking of mahouts—and I assured him I would make it happen. The grin that spread across his face when he understood my response was priceless.

It struck me that this might be the first time Paspat was in a position to create a practice contrary to tradition. A chill ran up my spine as I looked long and hard at this man, who supported the chain-free yard concept and suggested free-choice water. Even though we do not share one word of a common language, I felt the connection loud and clear.

First stop: the concrete factory

After securing the required authorization to add a water trough to Sweetie Kali’s yard, I posed my challenge to Kiran, the veterinary tech/nail cutter extraordinaire. He was excited to help.

I explained what I needed: a sturdy, bathtub-shaped, concrete drinking trough, with inlet and outlet holes, heavy enough that Sweetie Kali cannot knock it over.

In his broken English Kiran said he knew a man who could make the trough for us. So off we went on his motorcycle, zooming down the pothole-rutted village road toward the other side of town.

We arrived at the concrete factory. There was a yard full of custom-made concrete posts for building supports and culverts used for septic tanks but I did not see anything that vaguely resembled a water trough.

I also did not see a single person.

Kiran parked his bike and charged over to a three-sided shack, calling out to someone. There was a man inside who was fast asleep.

Kiran entered the building without so much as knocking. The man, who was lying on a thin mattress on a wood-frame sleeping platform, was the soundest sleeper I ever saw. Kiran was nearly yelling—and the guy did not move. It was only when Kiran shook him that he awoke.

Midday is nap time as it is too hot to do much else. The bewildered look on the shopkeeper’s face was not as result of being woken abruptly but out of surprise to see us out and active in the sweltering heat.

The man rubbed his sleepy eyes as he sat up, trying to understand what Kiran was asking. I watched—which is how things work when you don’t speak the language—once again ever thankful for Kiran’s willingness to be my translator.

Finally the man seemed to understand what we wanted and began asking questions. Kiran included me in the three-way animated conversations, complete with crude drawing on the shop’s dirt floor. We decided on the width, length, height and wall thickness. I kept emphasizing to Kiran that it had to be heavy and strong enough that Sweetie Kali cannot pull it over or break it.

We decided on a free-standing version because if the trough was ground-level, dirt would get into it.

There was much discussion about the wall thickness and amount of steel bar required to make it strong enough. Explaining the inlet and drain holes was a bit challenging. When I finally saw the shopkeeper’s eyes light up in comprehension, I knew he understood what we wanted.

I kept pushing for an estimate but the shopkeeper was reluctant to give one. He had never created a trough before and clearly did not want to underestimate the cost. After much prodding on Kiran’s part, though, we had a bid in hand and commitment that he would start on our project the next day. I was so excited!

How would he actually make it?

At no time during the process did I think to ask how he would create the mold for the trough. He would build a frame out of two by fours and plywood and pour the concrete in, of course. How else?

The concrete factory was halfway between Kiran’s house and Sauraha. He passed the shop each morning on his way to pick me up for foot trimming and kept me apprised of the progress. Indeed, work had begun immediately, as promised, with an estimated curing time of ten days.

The wait was excruciating, so after about five days I just had to check on progress myself.

When we arrived the yard was empty. My heart sank when I saw nothing that resembled a water trough. But as we drove slowly toward the back of the yard, which borders a neighbor’s cornfield, I saw it.

The mold was not what I expected but, considering available resources, it made perfect sense. A hole the exact dimensions of the outside of the trough had been dug into the earth, then the concrete was poured and molded by hand. It was stunning!

I could not help but ask how he would get that heavy trough out of the ground. Kiran laughed and explained that several men would pull the trough from the ground by hand and load it onto a wagon for delivery. I did not think to ask how it would be off-loaded into Sweetie Kali’s yard.

The trough arrives

The day finally arrived and the wagon carrying the water trough was backed into Sweetie’s yard. All the mahouts gathered around, very willing to be of assistance.

I watched as the deliverymen discussed the best way to unload this 700-pound tub of concrete and steel. The weight and slick bottom of the trough made it a dangerous situation.

They decided to park the wagon at an angle, place a large tire on the ground just below the tailgate and slide the trough off the trailer onto the tire. I kept my nose out of the planning but two things nagged at me—the steep angle of the trailer and the weight of the trough. But, the deliverymen were in charge, so I kept my mouth shut.

Then it happened, catching the men by surprise. One tug on the trough sent it careening toward the open end of the wagon—and all the men. As it picked up speed, the men scattered. I heard my own “oh no!” pierce the silence as the trough became airborne, turned in mid-air and landed with a thump on its side, feet from its intended landing spot on the tire.

I scanned the scene to see if the trough had landed on anyone. The area was clear and everyone looked fine. But then I noticed Paspat rapidly exiting the scene with Babu Ram close behind. He was holding his hand high in the air. It was then that I saw blood running down his hand.

Paspat had caught his hand between the trough and the bed of the trailer, slicing across the top of it from thumb to baby finger. It was not a pretty sight.

Nandu fired up his motor cycle. Paspat climbed aboard, but not before washing the blood from his good hand so as not to soil the bike. With the entire group looking on in silence, Paspat was raced to the local clinic, hand held high above his head to help slow the bleeding.

The men wrestled the trough into place in a most unceremonious manner. The accident had dampened everyone’s spirits.

Within minutes we learned that Paspat had no broken bones, but the muscles in his hand were pressed back toward his wrist. The muscles were massaged back into place and he received twelve stitches. The biggest concern was infection. Paspat is diabetic so the doctor was concerned about how well he would heal.

Hand healed, trough in place

More than a week has passed and I am happy to report that Paspat’s hand healed without complication.

As for the trough, it is a work of art. Every angle is perfect, all the surfaces smooth to ensure that Sweetie does not scratch her trunk and that it is easy to keep clean. I marveled at the amount of work that went into the mold and the craftsmanship it required. I could not have been happier.

Sweetie Kali wasted no time making use of her trough. The mahouts seem to enjoy watching her almost as much as she enjoys splashing, bathing and drinking.

Some of you commented on the newspaper that covers the outside of the trough, making it look like papier mache. The newspaper was used to line the inside of the earthen mold to keep the concrete clean; now it’s nearly one with the concrete so the mahouts decided to leave it.

A huge thank-you goes to the mahouts for their willingness to try something new and to all the supporters who underwrote the cost of adding this trough to Sweetie Kali’s yard.

Thank you all so much.

June 18, 2012
another possible care center in India

For the past two months I have been in communications with a well-established foundation interested in collaborating with Elephant Aid International on a care center in Northeast India.

Early next week I will walk the land proposed for the care center. It took a bit of flight rescheduling to accomplish this layover, but passing up the opportunity to consider an additional site for a care center was simply not an option.

I have a short twelve hours to travel from the airport to the proposed site, walk the land, assess its suitability for a care center and meet with the foundation and forest department representatives to discuss my findings.

Am I excited? Absolutely!

I realize I posted a bevy of ChipIns this past week. All our projects came to fruition in rapid succession and I am eternally grateful to everyone who rallied to make the fundraising efforts a huge success.

This time I need to raise $421 for airfare to visit this proposed care center site in India.

If you already gave to Sweetie Kali’s yard or water trough or the pool for the babies at the government breeding center, don’t burden yourself thinking you need to give again. Others will contribute and feel the joy of giving to a good cause. I have complete confidence that the funds will be raised.

As always, my sincerest thank you for your compassion and concern for elephants.

June 4, 2012
On Patrol

When Nandu learned that I wanted to accompany Sweetie Kali on her anti-poaching patrol he directed me to Ram Kumar who graciously cleared my request with Paspat, the mahout supervisor. Realizing how much is lost in translation, I felt it best to experience Sweetie’s patrol duty first hand. I planned to walk instead of ride, which, for the most part, I did.

It was reassuring to watch Sweetie Kali voluntarily exit her yard without hesitation. The deepest concern shared by mahouts was that after being chain-free she would refuse to respond to her mahout. That fear has proven to be unfounded.
Puntea, Sweetie’s phonet (lead mahout) used a burlap bag to “slap off” the thick layer of fine dirt Sweetie had spent the last several hours throwing on her back. In places where the dirt was very thick he struck her firmly with blunt side of his crew pa (machete), creating an avalanche of silt cascading to the ground.

This approach to sweeping dirt off Sweetie appears a bit rough and indeed it is. But she showed no concern, moving gracefully from a lying, to half-sitting and then standing position to accommodate the process. I did catch myself questioning—for the umpteenth time–why the mahouts handle their elephants in such a rough manner. Nothing is gentle — not a touch or a word; no silent tactile moment of praise.

Reconsidering the decision to walk

In seconds we were on our way, me with a satchel of essentials — camera, water, hat, umbrella and Chap Stick — and Puntea perched on Sweetie Kali’s back with the multi-functional burlap bag as a seat cushion. He carried a small wooden switch and badly tattered umbrella. I noticed immediately that he was not carrying a bottle of water and mistakenly took it as a sign that our outing would not be rugged.

Keeping pace with Sweetie on foot was no problem. Her mahout allowed her to amble at a comfortable speed.

Our first stop was the river — spectacular. With ease, Sweetie Kali submerged herself in the water with Puntea still perched atop her back. He managed not to get so much as a toe wet — for what reason I don’t know, since it was already sweltering hot. Following one word commands, Sweetie tilted from side to side in the strong current, bobbing like a buoy.

At this point I realized my plan to make this excursion on foot was flawed. The current would make crossing a challenge but the bigger issue was slithering down the river in our direction—a large crocodile. Apologizing to Sweetie for the extra burden, I clambered aboard and we crossed safely to the opposite shore.

Grass: food and trimming tool

In front of us lay a vast grassland, high as an elephant’s eye, as the saying goes. In stark contrast, in the hazy distance rose a mountain range dense in vegetation, its forest seeming to pulsate in the early morning heat.

As Sweetie effortlessly ambled through the tall grass she reached to the side, grasped a trunkful of grass, pulled it tight and, with her next step, severed it at the soil line with a strike of her foot. All this without missing a step.

I remember watching in awe at the Sanctuary the first time I watched Jenny cutting grass in the same manner as she grazed. With each step she’d grab a trunkful of grass, casually swung her foot forward and effortlessly sever the grass with her toenails. There is quite a hypnotizing, even relaxing, rhythm to this action. The abrasive quality of grass works as a natural trimming tool; this is one way elephants keep their nails, cuticles and pads trimmed to a healthy length.

Joining the patrol

We traveled in complete silence for some time, umbrellas balanced overhead to shade ourselves from the scorching sun. But soon the silence was pierced when from out of nowhere we were joined by two young elephants and their mahouts. For the next five hours the mahouts chattered nonstop, like school girls at a slumber party. Since I don’t speak the language, I soon drifted off into my own world, taking in every scent and plant and animal sighting.

Two hours into our patrol we approached a circle of high arching trees where many elephants and mahouts had gathered. Some mahouts were sprawled out, fast asleep on elephant back, while others napped on the ground while elephants grazed close by.

In the middle of the partially shaded clearing an energetic young mahout was putting his equally young elephant through what appeared to be a training exercise.

I breathed a sigh of relief to think we were about to take a break. I was ready to continue this excursion on foot as planned. But instead of stopping we crossed through the clearing, exiting the other side.

The next hour-and-a-half was spent in serious patrolling, or at least that is how it appeared. The mahouts ventured off the trail continually, ducking under low hanging trees scouring the undergrowth for “something.” Obviously they never found what they were looking for or I would know what it was.

Rest stop

Then we came upon a circle of towering shade trees that created the perfect place for a rest stop. We no sooner disembarked when all three elephants moved outside the circle to cover their bodies with a fine layer of dirt flung effortlessly onto their backs.

I watched silently, wondering if they would exchange tactile greeting or show any sign of recognition. Although they stood centimeters from each other, they acted as if the other did not exist. The lack of physical interaction seemed so unnatural, and unfortunate. These three girls, close to the same age, have so much in common, including knowing that forming relationships with each other was discouraged by their mahouts.

They grazed the tall grass while we napped, burlap bags used as bed rolls. About fifteen minutes into our slumber Sweetie Kali tiptoed over to my sleeping spot. I felt her approach. When realizing she intended to make a personal visit I casually propped myself up into a sitting position from where I could quickly stand if need be — and cleared my throat. I would have loved to share a special moment with Sweetie but the truth is, we do not have a relationship and having her so close could be dangerous.

I know from experience that even while asleep, mahouts are on high alert. Hearing my unspoken warning sign, Puntea got to his feet and Sweetie retreated to the company of the other elephants.

My role

One trade-off that I have reconciled myself with is that I am a distant figure in the lives of these elephants. It is not appropriate to insert myself into their lives. I am here to improve their welfare. It is not about me having the chance to form a close relationship with them; it is about me encouraging the mahouts to form a healthy relationship with them. When we establish the retirement home things will be different and I will have a close relationship with all the residents, but for these elephants who are not under my direct care, a relationship between us would only complicate their lives.

The mahout-elephant relationship

The day was long and hot for everyone concerned. When we reached an offshoot of the river the elephants submerged while the mahouts quenched their thirst from a spring oozing from the side of the bank. All parties drank their fill.

The next hour was spent leisurely grazing the sandy grassland that borders the river. When we finally crossed we were immediately immersed in a dense vibrant forest. The temperature dropped by at least ten degrees, the trees blocked the glare and penetrating heat from the sun.

Umbrellas were closed and stored, mine in my satchel and others, hung by the handle from the back of the mahout’s shirt. What a novel idea and handy hanging location; the neckline of the shirt works perfectly.

Tree branches invaded the trail, making passage difficult. I was told that the noise in the trees was monkeys but I never caught a glimpse of one. Spotted deer and birds were abundant. At least one tiger had walked the same sandy path recently, leaving behind huge paw prints. Seeing the size of the prints made me reconsider—once again— my decision to walk instead of ride.

Soon and without a verbal farewell, our fellow patrollers turned off at different paths, disappearing into the dense bush, on their way to a different hattisar. As we traveled the last mile of our patrol I was lost in thought about the relationship between mahout and elephant. It is a strange one — no outward display of affection, no praise, continual directions and corrections. It takes a strong individual to do this job day in and day out, both elephant and human.

June 2, 2012
Fundraising for Sweetie Kali’s chain-free corral a success!

Sweetie Kali

I am sincerely grateful, as I know are Sweetie Kali and the entire NTNC staff, for your generosity toward the creation of Sweetie Kali’s chain-free yard.

The funds raised to date cover the cost of Sweetie’s one-acre power fence enclosure, which she has immersed herself in from day one; her custom water trough, which will be installed tomorrow; and two shovels and a new wheel barrel requested by the mahout staff.

The mahouts are so proud of this pilot project.

The second half of the funding goal was intended for a training wall, which is not necessary at this time. Those funds can be raised at a later date and the wall built in a few months when I return to Nepal.

So, consider this fundraiser a grand success! Pat yourselves on the back. Without you this history-making event would not be possible. Together we have created the first chain-free elephant corral in Nepal, hopefully starting a trend that will change how captive elephants are kept in Asia!

May 30, 2012
Update on Nepal pilot project

Starting on May 8th, 2012, I put everything on hold while I focused exclusively on Sweetie Kali’s new chain-free corral. The bandh (country-wide strike) caused a bit of delay in the beginning, forcing the fence crew to wait several hours at the Nepal boarder before entering. Clearing customs with 400 KG of power fence materials added to the delay.

Upon arrival, Dibyandu Ghosh, the contractor, explained that his fences are not only functional but beautiful as well. He was not exaggerating. No matter the challenge—including keeping a captive elephant in while at the same time keeping wild bulls out—he never balked and consistently came up with solutions that were both functional and visually pleasing.

Realizing that I did not speak the local language, Dibyendu quickly identified the go-to man, Paspat, the mahout supervisor. They hit it off immediately, as if they had worked together for years.

Once construction started, it progressed quickly. Each morning Sweetie Kali would leave her stable for a day of patrolling and grazing the forest, leaving several men working diligently around her yard. Each evening she returned to be chained in her stable with the men still busy at work. She was soon encircled by the project.

As the fence began to take shape, the mahouts became more interested. Seeing is a powerful tool to grasping a concept. By the end of four days, the corral had been completed and everyone gathered to witness Sweetie Kali’s release.

I wouldn’t say that anyone was apprehensive, but there was definitely a feeling of doubt. One researcher with years of wild elephant and rhino experience commented that the mahouts would now have to be with Sweetie Kali constantly since she would be off chains. His comment caught me off guard but showed clearly that the chain-free concept was difficult for them to comprehend. While I tried to explain that the fencing is what contains her, making a mahout unnecessary, his reasoning was revealed. He stated his concern that without the mahouts Sweetie Kali would not be able to function, would not know what to do, where to walk, even how to walk. I was dumbfounded. My response was, just watch, she will do just fine.

I thought long and hard about this mindset — that elephants cannot function without their mahouts ordering them around. It actually made me sad to have to accept how misunderstood elephants truly are.

The chains come off

When Sweetie Kali’s chains were removed for the final time, she stood motionless next to her mahout. Indeed, she was waiting for instruction, expecting discipline if she acted without direction.

Her mahout obviously did not comprehend his role either. When he was told to walk away from Sweetie Kali and leave the yard, he stood frozen, apparently confused.

When the mahout finally left the yard, it took a matter of moments for Sweetie to realize she was chain-free. She took a tentative step away from her stable area and abruptly stopped, ears perked, anticipating a sharp correction. When no correction was forthcoming, she relaxed a bit and began to walk the fence line. Unable to let go, the mahout also hovered at the fence line. Sweetie Kali was clearly apprehensive. The other mahouts, administrators and vet techs looked on in anticipation.

I grabbed some kuchi (rice and molasses wrapped in grass) and tried to get the mahout to walk the fence line into the forest and throw the kuchi deep inside. As always, training the elephant trainers is always more difficult than training the elephant, so it took several attempts, in his native tongue, for the mahout to understand that he was not to hand feed the kuchi, but to disperse it in the habitat.

Chain-free environment and free-choice food are two equally incomprehensible concepts to most mahouts. But after much-repeated instruction from his peers, Sweetie Kali’s mahout finally, almost reluctantly, hurled the last kuchi into the forest.

That was Sweetie Kali’s signal that she was free to roam the premises. The last thing everyone saw of her was her petite backside as she disappeared into the dense brush. I felt like saying, “Sweetie Kali has left the building!” but realized my humor would be lost on this crowd.

Bundles of fresh cut grass were deposited on the edge of her forest to be consumed at her leisure and the tech set up watch to record Sweetie Kali’s behavior until dark.

Reinforcing: No chains

The next morning, Sweetie was still nowhere in sight, which pleased everyone tremendously. As I sat in the open-air mahout hut reveling in the success of the project, Sweetie’s mahout entered her yard. Watching silently, I wondering if the schedule had changed; was she going to the forest early or was there a special tracking program? But then I realized that the mahout intended to chain Sweetie Kali under her shelter.

I leapt from my seat. With as much composure as possible I rallied the mahouts, telling them, “No chains, no chains.” My heart sank but then Paspat, the mahout supervisor, appeared out of nowhere. Usually a quiet, mild-mannered guy, he barreled over to the mahout with raised voice and expressive body language to deal with the situation.

The mahout explained that he wanted to stick to Sweetie’s normal morning routine, which of course included chaining, but was told, in no uncertain terms, that chaining was not allowed. He now clearly understood his directions. When the drama died down I suggested that the chains be removed from the stable area so they would not “accidentally” be used.

New routines

That afternoon when Sweetie returned to the hattisar and was released into her yard, she knew exactly what to do. Without hesitation she made a beeline for the forest and did not come out again until it was dinnertime.

Before mealtime, kuchi and bundles of grass are stored outside each shelter, inches from the elephants’ reach. The routine is to feed the kuchi first, placing them at the elephants’ feet, and then piling the fresh-cut grass within reach. The elephant knows from years of experience that dinner is served precisely at 6 pm.

Being chain-free meant Sweetie Kali was free to approach the inviting pile of food and beg to be fed early, thereby creating a situation where she might begin to bob in frustration.

Everything had been progressing so well, I wanted to avoid creating such a situation. Getting the mahout to disperse the cuchie in the forest earlier than Sweetie Kali’s normal feeding time was not a problem, but then I saw that he put all her grass in one pile under her shelter.

His fellow mahouts were all talking at the same time, telling him to take the grass to the forest. But he simply ignored them and walked away.

This time Paspat did not come to the rescue. I was the only one who did not know he was off-grounds. Luckily, another official appeared and after several phone calls got the mahout to return. In a melodramatic display of unwillingness, he dragged the grass to the proper location—and then stomped off, muttering that he would not take orders from junior mahouts.

By the next day Sweetie Kali’s mahout was over his seniority snit and began to show great pride in the accomplishments of his elephant.

Many thanks

That’s it, the entire story. Every day, Sweetie Kali immerses herself in her personal forest when she is back at the hattisar. She comes out to play in the dirt pit or chase birds and was seen and heard dashing in and out of the trees during the last big storm, but otherwise she is basically unseen except by Ganash, the young tech assigned to her behavior study, which he has taken on with great seriousness. Recording her behavior is an important tool for documenting her response to chain-free living.

When Sweetie Kali leaves for her daily patrol of the forest, I inspect for habitat damage. I am pleasantly surprised at how little damage there is. She excavated a relatively small sleeping area, sheltered by huge trees and another smaller area for dusting. Aside from the thick curtains of edible hanging vines that are rapidly thinning, the damage is minimal.

I have so many people to thank for the success of this pilot project including all the staff at NTNC-BCC, the forest department, Naresh, Ram Kumar, Chitran, Dr. Gairhe, Paspat, Nandu, Babu, Kiran, Ganash, Veena and Vishnu at IBEX Gallagher, Dibyendu and crew and especially the mahouts, because without their cooperation, the project would not have been possible.

And finally, I thank Sweetie Kali for unknowingly volunteering to participate in this important pilot project, one that will undoubtedly have a huge impact on how captive elephants are kept in Nepal.

Please visit EAI’s Facebook page so I can keep you updated on our progress as it happens!

May 23, 2012
One With The Storm

The storm blew in with little warning — fierce, bending saplings to their breaking point. The wind swept fine particles from the dry, dusty roads and newly plowed fields to create a cloud of dust that blocked the late afternoon sun’s rays, bringing premature darkness. Soon the metallic vibrating of nearby generators created a surprise calm, a base pulse underscoring the mighty storm.

Second only to elephants, I love storms. The more wind and rain the better.

The swirling, all-encompassing embrace of the storm’s powerful wind reminds me of Tennessee. Trees dancing outside my door, drapes floating to and fro, bed sheets lifting like butterflies and gently floating back down. Although these storms don’t produce the same spectacular lighting show as the ones back home, the power of their display is identical.

Sitting in the middle of a storm I can effortlessly be in the moment. I feel engulfed by ancient gods and nature’s grandeur. I feel at peace, one with the world.

Here comes the gentle tap, tap, tap of raindrops, which I bet will soon explode into a deafening downpour—my favorite part. Metal roofs become their keyboard, magnifying their music, creating one of nature’s unmatched symphonies.

Oh thunder — here it comes — the exclamation point! Reminds me of Jenny, thumping her trunk on the ground to accentuate her excitement, sending vibrations in every direction to be absorbed by sensitive receptive feet.

The lightening has finally arrived — what a show! The wind carries a light mist of rain through my open door, bringing with it the scent of fresh flowers, refreshing my skin and lifting my spirits.

Together, thunder, deep as mighty drumbeats and lightning flashes like a trillion intermittent flash bulbs.

Being in the moment with such power is inspiring. I can think of nothing more impressive and awe inspiring than storms…except for elephants, of course.

And now the long awaited crescendo–the skies open up in a deafening downpour. Not to be outdone, the thunder increases its volume. The rain responds in sheets of water. The drapes now beat against the windows, violently flapping back and forth, in time with the storm’s well-orchestrated concert.

Nature at her finest.

Bathed in the joy storms create for me, I silently sit in the very center absorbing every glorious bit of her, knowing that like all good things, this storm too will soon pass.

The storm is spent and quiet begins to settle. Distant ripples of thunder suggest that she is moving on. But not before sending one last gust of wind and splash of rain, rattling the roof tops and reminding me what joy nature brings.

May 19, 2012
EAI’s May e-newsletter

Two exciting new projects are underway in Nepal!

This e-newsletter kicks off EAI’s first fundraising projects for Nepal this year. I hope you will help make it a success by telling your friends and neighbors how far the US dollar stretches in Nepal. Be part of the solution, one world, one elephant at a time!

No more chains

Between trimming feet and brainstorming about a retirement center for elephants in Sauraha, Nepal, we—you, I and all of EAI’s supporters—are about to embark on a very exciting pilot project at the National Trust for Nature Conservation Biodiversity Conservation Center (NTNC-BCC) hattisar (elephant stable).

Pursuing last year’s recommendation to create chain-free enclosures for the BCC’s five forest patrol elephants, Naresh Subedi, an EAI advisor, and other NTNC officials have enthusiastically agreed to allow EAI to build a chain-free enclosure to demonstrate its functionality.

No chains = cooperative elephants

This is huge. It gives us the opportunity to show mahouts how cooperative elephants can become when allowed the freedom to move around unrestricted.

Eight-year-old Sweetie Kali will be the lucky recipient of this new and improved yard, where she will be off chains 24/7.

In addition to the direct benefits to her psychological and physical wellbeing, Sweetie Kali will demonstrate to the mahouts and NTNC administrators that elephants do not “go wild” when allowed to spend unsupervised time off chains.

Sweetie Kali, her fellow herd members and most of the government elephants are taken to the forest each day. Although they spend eight hours a day wandering the forest foraging for food, they are still under the strict control of their mahouts. Their lives are measurably better than those of privately owned elephants, who are required to give rides to tourists all day and are tethered in a stable overnight.

But, together with NTNC, we can do better.

Sweetie Kali and positive changes to come

Sweetie Kali was chosen because she is the youngest elephant in the herd, born at the NTNC-BCC. Her incessant head bobbing is a concern for the mahouts and management alike. The staff was witness to the onset of her stereotypical behavior, which started when she turned 3, following her formal training and induction into the traditional world of chains.

Currently, all the elephants are tethered under their own private shelters. Once everyone is comfortable that the fence provides the security necessary, chances are that Sweetie’s mother will be allowed to join her in the yard. Imagine what a moving reunion that will be.

The new chain-free yard will allow Sweetie Kali to engage in natural behaviors she has been prevented from in the past. She will be able to explore her new yard, dust herself to her heart’s content, create mud wallows and feel the soothing sensation of scratching on a huge tree. Instead of sleeping tethered between two poles, she will sleep in any soft and comfortable location she chooses.

EAI’s goal is to get this corral up and functioning before I leave Nepal in June. That is a rather optimistic expectation but I am determined to move the project forward as quickly as possible.

Vishnu Narain, a collaborative partner in our Bannerghatta, India, care center project, operates IBEX Gallagher, a power fence company. We could not be more fortunate to have this connection. I have his bid in hand and a commitment to install the fence as soon as we are ready.

Training and foot care wall — a prototype for Asia

If we built only the electric fence for the corral it would mean a world of improvement for Sweetie and would keep the cost of the project down. But a training and foot care wall—a two-sided, free standing, steel pipe structure—is essential to our efforts to improve elephant welfare in Nepal. Once the wall is in place, foot care will become a required duty of each mahout, integrated into their elephant care responsibilities, and all the NTNC-BCC and government elephants in Sauraha will have access to it.

The cost of the electric fence, including area preparation, materials, shipping and installation, is estimated to be $3,240. The training and foot care wall, including pipe, delivery, welding, concrete and labor, nearly doubles the cost of the project. I believe this will be $6,000 well spent as it will create a prototype that can be duplicated throughout Asia.

Help us hire a veterinarian to oversee our Nepal projects!

EAI has the exciting opportunity to engage a veterinarian in Sauraha, Chitwan National Park. The timing is perfect!

This is our third year in Sauraha. With the ongoing foot care and mahout training and the new chain-free enclosure and training and foot care wall, it is essential that we hire a veterinarian to coordinate and supervise our activities. It will also be much easier to expand EAI’s welfare projects in Nepal with a professional in place.

Simply building a chain-free corral and a training and foot care wall for the mahouts and their elephants is not enough. We also need to formalize our Compassionate Elephant Care training and create incentives to encourage the mahouts to become more engaged in all aspects of their elephants’ care and wellbeing. Once our collaborative effort to create an elephant retirement home is realized, our veterinarian will monitor the daily care of the resident elephants.

In addition to overseeing EAI’s projects in my absence, our veterinarian will work closely with Dr. Gairhe, the senior government veterinarian, assisting in wildlife captures, rhino counts and regular animal management activities undertaken by NTNC-BCC.

EAI will be responsible for the vet’s salary as well as all necessary equipment, lab work, travel and any other expenses we deem appropriate. Resumes are currently being reviewed.

Our budget for the first year is $15,000. Yes, you read that right — $15,000 includes the veterinarian’s salary and other costs associated with his/her work for EAI.

Update: Elephant Care and Rehabilitation Center Project, Bannerghatta, India

Earlier this year I learned that a portion of the land intended for our care center project was designated as revenue land.

Revenue land is owned by the government and designated for agricultural use or forest restoration. There are cases when the government can gift this land but the recipient must abide by strict use requirements and restrictions, is never allowed to sell it and the government has the legal right to reclaim it.

The process to acquire permission to use revenue land in India moves slowly and must take into consideration the villagers’ needs and legal rights.

EAI collaborating partner Vishnu Narain reports that progress continues for the care center. He has met with local government officials and regulators, who expressed support of the project.

EAI is taking a wait-and-see attitude on this project. Once we have written authorization from the government to fence off and use the land for the intended purpose of an elephant care center, EAI will once again become active in the process moving forward.

I look forward to keeping you up to date on our exciting new projects.

Please visit EAI’s Facebook page so we can keep you updated on our progress as it happens!

May 8, 2012
Forest Dwellers

Today’s foot trimming adventure was over the top, a marathon day with Dr. Gairhe—the senior government veterinarian—leading the way.

Kiran and Chitran, the two vet tech/3rd year foot trimming students, and I fit perfectly in the back seat of the full-size pickup truck…or so I thought when we all piled in. If it had not been for the road conditions, the ride would have been…well, let’s say, less memorable. I’m not complaining — far from it — and I enjoyed every minute of our 14-hour adventure.

One thing that struck me this time in Nepal is realizing my unconscious expectation of comforts that I take for granted in the US. Sitting between two large men, bouncing down a seriously bumpy road and being slammed side-to-side like bumper cars, I realized that I accepted this assignment with an unreasonable expectation of transportation comfort. The reality of the situation made me laugh.

The Nepalese don’t fret over physical discomfort, they simply accept it. So when I started joking about the guys staying on their own side of the seat, it soon became a humorous game. When Kiran would absent mindedly crowd my space, I drew an imaginary line between us and said, “You have crossed the line,” and like two adolescents we’d crack up with laughter. Soon everyone got into the game of not invading each other’s space, so when Kiran flopped his entire arm over Chitran’s leg, he was abruptly chastised—jokingly. Everyone broke out into hysterical laughter. It was refreshingly silly to experience such discomfort and be able to laugh about it together.

Humor aside, I realized that if I continued to be thrown back and forth between the football player-size shoulders on either side of me, I was going to be very sore, if not crippled by the end of the day, so I pulled rank (age, actually) and claimed the window seat. This was much better for me as I could press myself against the door and hang onto the armrest for security.

Four outposts, seven elephants and a canoe like a swimming pool

Our mission for the day was to visit four government outposts to trim the feet of seven elephants. Our first stop was Gadini outpost, a place we visited last year. After driving for nearly two hours we arrived on the bank of a beautiful river. The flimsy wooden canoe that would carry us to our destination was on the opposite side of the river. The boat man soon appeared and to my amusement proceeded to bail out the canoe—it had taken on quite a bit of water—before heading in our direction.

In order to board in peaceful waters we hiked a short distance upstream. The day was already steamy hot. Tiny frogs scattered as we approached the water’s edge, disappearing into the calm shallows.

Our canoe was waiting when we arrived and we gingerly climbed aboard. A real man, or woman for that matter, sits on the floor of the boat. But customs are changed for foreigners. The government guard post on our side of the river provided tiny wooden seats for our canoeing comfort—and to keep our backsides dry. I kind of wondered where the life jackets were, since the canoe was already taking on water through cracks in the flimsy wooden planks strapped together with giant metal staples. To add to the drama, Dr. G asked “Can you swim?” I can’t remember not knowing how to swim, and wondered the level of fear one would experience crossing this fast-moving river in a boat that resembled a swimming pool, not knowing how to swim.

With a smooth push off from a ten-foot bamboo pole, the boat master expertly guided us into the swiftly moving current. The water picked up volume and speed and within minutes we were deposited on the opposite bank without incident. We disembarked and hiked the short distance into the forest to the outpost. The forest was lush and green and teaming with active, boisterous bird life.

Gadini outpost: Healthy feet and relaxed elephants

Namastes were exchanged and then it was right to work. Kiran requested that the crew pa (machete) be sharpened, which is effectively done on a large rock with sand. No power sharpening tools here: they use the available resources and manage just fine.

Elephants Sano Chanchal Kali and Rampyari were tethered under separate shelters bordered by the forest. The stables were clean and the girls looked on calmly.

With a simply utterance of bite (lie down), Sano Chanchal Kali slowly folded to the ground without resistance or concern. We were all so pleased to see that her pads were healthy and evenly worn and her nails were only slightly overgrown.

As I took “before” photos, put on my girly gloves and prepared my exacto blades, which are also kind of girly, the guys were already trimming excess nail with precision that is hard to imagine when using a machete. I am in awe of how well the men handle this tool, but they grow up using it, starting with cutting grass to feed livestock and later as a knife to cut anything.

Sano Chanchal Kali took this special time of hati la na pita (don’t hit the elephant) to drop off into a fairly sound sleep for most of her trimming. She shifted to her other side without resistance and allowed us to give her one of the most beautiful pedicures to date!

Almost in an identical fashion to her sister, Rampyri folded to the ground following a simple verbal command. The mahouts have gotten the word: if you want this crew to trim feet, no hitting allowed. Refreshing for us and for the elephant. Rampyri’s feet were another pleasant surprise, pads evenly worn and supple, nails only slightly overgrown and no sign of decay or infection. The crew commented on “what easy feet” these were.

Our work in this camp was completed in record time thanks to the healthy condition of the elephants’ feet and the relationship they share with their mahouts.

Honestly, I can’t remember if we had our home cooked meal at this outpost or the next — those details seem to blur together — but I do remember that to get to the second outpost we got back into the canoe and floated downstream for some time. A black egret fished on the shoreline ahead and a white breasted Kingfisher swooped past us in pursuit of a meal. Without any initial sign of elephant or mahout life, we landed again on the riverbank and hiked a short distance to the second camp.

These camps are inside the national forest, which, in this location, is an island. Dr. G told us that wild bulls do not cross the river encircling this island. No one knows why, but as result of this phenomenon, captive bulls can be kept on the island without fear of being attacked by wild bulls.

Kurauli post: More healthy feet and easy pedicures

As with Gideni, the elephants at Kurauli post were aware of our arrival. Dhirendra Kali and Gandaki Kali, were waiting—mahouts casually mounted on top—surveying the approaching team.

Before having hardly a chance to settle in, I heard “bit” followed by “raw,” which meant our first client had reclined and was awaiting her pedicure. We now operate quite smoothly as a crew. While I unpacked trimming tools, gloves and camera, the others examined the client’s feet and prepared for trimming by sharpening the machetes.

We all commented on how great Dhirendra Kali’s feet looked. I liked the pattern I was seeing. The more remote the outpost, the better condition the elephants and their feet were in, the more skilled the mahouts were and the less pressure the elephants experienced when requests were made for their compliance. But of course, they were living in their element with the river nearby, sheltered under giant trees, on natural substrate and plenty of exercise combing the forest for poachers.

With such healthy feet, there was little work for the crew. Shave off overgrown nails a little, check for decayed areas and she was done. Another easy pedicure!

When Dhirendra Kali left the trimming area she let out a “Queenie-squeak.” It transported me back in time to the Sanctuary overlook at the Q-barn with Minnie, Lottie and Queenie playing in the mud, Queenie making her distinctive squeaks nonstop. Dhirendra Kali’s gentle sound brought back a very a pleasant memory for me. I accepted it as the gift it was.

But this was not time for daydreaming because Gandaki Kali was already in place and waiting for her pedicure. I was pleased to see that her nails and pads were also healthy and only slightly overgrown.

It is so encouraging to see that these elephants are getting sufficient exercise, on appropriate substrate, which is why their feet are so healthy.

To be continued….

May 7, 2012