A new feature in National Geographic, “Captive Elephants Freed From a Life in Chains highlights EAI’s work in Nepal. Carol tells the magazine that “getting [the elephants] ‘chain-free and pain free’ is a start toward improving the lives of captive elephants across Asia.’”
A new documentary on the work of Carol Buckley and EAI improving elephant welfare throughout Asia has been selected for the 15th annual Wild & Scenic Film Festival.
“Unchained” follows Carol and her team in their quest to enhance captive elephant welfare in Nepal. Using gentle persuasion and showing by example that there is a better way to treat elephants in captivity, Carol takes a phased, pragmatic approach to changing attitudes that relies on winning the buy-in of owners and mahouts (elephant handlers).
Watch the trailer.
Learn more from the Unchained Facebook page.
When teacher and student connect, the elephants benefit! EAI’s Elephant Foot Care Workshop at Tiger Tops Elephant Camp is proving to be an amazing experience for all
Herds of wild elephants grazing peacefully in the vast grasslands of India.
57 DAYS UNTIL CLOSING! The ERNA land and the surrounding climate are tailor-made for elephants, ensuring that each elephant who calls ERNA home will thrive.
Researchers have found that elephants are highly intelligent and capable of many human-like emotions, such as happiness, sorrow and even empathy.
Beautiful Jon taking a refreshing dip in the water.
“The pure joy an elephant exhibits when given a resemblance of freedom is what drives me to do more.” – Carol Buckley
When I met Hanako less than two months ago, it was obvious to me that she was nearing the end of her life.
Hanako had spent close to seven decades in one of the most deprived environments I’ve seen.
Every surface in her barn and yard was covered with unyielding, moisture-robbing, highly abrasive concrete. There was not a blade of grass, a tree or a patch of dirt anywhere in the small space.
While at the zoo I learned that Hanako had recently stopped lying down to sleep. Instead of spending several hours each night on her side sleeping, she spent a lesser amount of time leaning against the barn wall, dozing.
After studying her records it was clear that Hanako’s appetite and drinking habits had also changed. The times when she would refuse to eat grew more and more frequent.
Hanako also refused to use her outside pool or allow her keepers to bathe her. As result her skin was dehydrated and her legs were stained with urine.
The staff could not account for these changes in Hanako’s behavior. But such changes are to be expected of an elephant of Hanako’s age.
It was heartbreaking to observe that her eyesight was failing, she shivered continually and she was physically inactive.
Each morning, until at least a month before her death, Hanako would walk the few feet from the barn to the outside concrete yard. There she would stand and engage in stereotypical behavior for hours before taking the few labored steps back inside her barn at the end of the day.
My first afternoon at the zoo I witnessed a change in Hanako’s behavior. Without any obvious provocation she seemed to startle from her catatonic state and began moving around her small yard.
Then the barn door opened and she became vocal and animated. She approached the door, placed her foot in the track and engaged in the most bizarre stereotypic routine I’d ever seen. She pushed her toe into the track, pulled back as if her foot was caught in it, removed her foot and then repeated the sequence twelve times. Keepers later told me she did this stereotypical sequence every time before she entered the barn. Not always twelve times—sometimes more, sometimes less.
After completing her stereotypic ritual, Hanako rushed into the barn, moving with an uncharacteristic urgency as if someone was trying to keep her from entering. Her eyes lit up and she became very vocal.
I assumed she was excited about the pile of fresh vegetables and grass on the floor. But it was not the food. It was her keepers she was focused on.
Hanako was obviously excited to see her keepers and anxious for them to pet her. She offered her foot through the steel bars that divided the elephant and keeper spaces, leaned up against the bars and turned to receive pets on her backside and hip.
She chattered to her keepers the entire time, soliciting and savoring their every touch. This was a side of Hanako I had not seen—her comfort with and attachment to her keepers.
The keepers appeared to enjoy the interaction as well. But fifteen minutes later, Hanako’s allocated social time was over. As the keepers turned their attention to barn duties, I watched as Hanako slipped back into her detached state of mind.
The thermostat was set, water barrel checked, food swept into a neat pile, lights turned off, doors closed and keepers gone again until tomorrow. Once again Hanako was alone.
Failed by the system
Hanako was denied a natural life of freedom with her natal family simply because humans are intrigued by this species. But humans failed her time and time again.
Even if they wanted to, the zoo staff was unable to evaluate Hanako’s health scientifically. Hanako and her keepers weren’t trained to carry out basic health checks and her antiquated facilities did not provide a safe environment for medical testing or treatment. Aside from tranquilizing Hanako, there was no safe way to compile a comprehensive medical work up.
The government owns and runs all the zoos in Japan. The keepers are rotated throughout the zoo system, transferred to a different zoo every two years. Knowing the social complexity of elephants, having keepers rotate in and out of Hanako’s life so often would have been stressful, even traumatic.
Decades ago Hanako had an extremely close relationship with one of her keepers. After he died she reportedly became aggressive and as result was kept chained for a length of time.
It is reasonable to assume that Hanako suffered both physically and psychologically from her lack of companionship and physical activity. In Hanako’s case, her social isolation was the most detrimental. But the damage inflicted on her by her isolation was never measured.
Taking comfort in the familiar
Hanako had a decades-long reputation of reacting negatively to changes in her facility and routine. As she aged, her tendency to be inflexible increased.
Weeks before Hankako died, the zoo installed a safety fence on the outside wall of her barn. Their hope was that by providing a secure outside space, the keepers and Hanako would spend more quality time together, something we all agreed would benefit her. Although the fence was not one of my recommendations, I completely understood why the zoo made the effort.
Unfortunately, directly following fence construction, Hanako refused to leave her barn. Since the construction was the most obvious change in Hanako’s life, it was blamed for her behavior.
In her tender psychological state Hanako might have been frightened and even traumatized by the noisy power tools drilling into the wall of her barn. The noise and vibrations most certainly could be heard and felt by Hanako, locked inside. Although it is reasonable to believe she was upset by the construction, another scenario should also be considered.
Hanako was dying, growing weaker day by day. Apparently she derived comfort from being inside her barn. She could conserve energy she would otherwise have wasted walking out to a barren yard that provided neither shade nor shelter from the cold. In her condition, the barn was likely the most comfortable place for her.
Too late for Hanako but not for other elephants
The zoo said that a necropsy will be conducted. The results will most likely point to death by natural causes. It is true that Hanako’s body condition was good for an elephant of her age, but there is no way to determine what her emotional and psychological condition were.
Against all odds, Hanako lived to the ripe old age of 69. Surprisingly, she was not emaciated or crippled and did not develop osteomyelitis or the pressure wounds that are so common among elephants kept on concrete. But even though her body served her well, captivity took its toll on her heart and mind.
Hanako’s celebrity increased near the end of her life as she became the focus of a worldwide effort to move her. It’s unfortunate her deprived existence didn’t come to light five years ago, ten years ago or even two decades ago, when she could have benefited from being moved.
But, although Hanako did not benefit personally from her celebrity, other elephants will.
Immediately after Hanako’s death the zoo announced the good news that it will not replace her with another elephant.
The truth is that Hanako is irreplaceable.
Three days have passed since I was in Japan to meet Hanako and assess her welfare.
Hanako has lived at the Inokashira Park Zoo for the majority of her 69 years. Her small concrete exhibit, antiquated dry moat and solitary existence are a far cry from what nature intended for this wild-born, highly evolved, social being.
In a better world Hanako would have lived her entire life with her extended family of mother, sisters, nieces, aunts and grandmother. Knowing that Hanako has been denied her natural life has led many people to believe that she must be miserable.
The common consensus was that moving Hanako to a sanctuary is the only way to improve her life. Under different circumstances that might be true.
But after visiting with Hanako and seeing her for myself, I realized that moving her now, at this stage in her life, is not an option. I prepared a report for the zoo with many recommendations for how staff can improve her life. Moving Hanako to a sanctuary was not one of them.
The news that Hanako will not be moved to a sanctuary resulted in an outpouring of emotional responses from her supporters worldwide. Many were angry. Some could not accept the fact that such a move would traumatize this geriatric elephant, causing her more harm than good. The universal reaction shared by all was mourning Hanako’s lost opportunity for freedom.
No one is more heartbroken than I that Hanako will never experience her birthright, living in a natural environment with trees, grass and other elephants. It would have been a dream come true, if not for Hanako’s advanced age, lack of teeth, failing eyesight, frailness, change in sleeping habits (she no longer lies down to sleep) and inability to cope with change. Hanako’s reality is that she is a senior citizen in hospice care.
I am convinced that zoo staff are sincere in their intention to better Hanako’s situation. Ulara, who is spearheading this effort for Hanako, will work diligently with them to implement the changes I recommended.
Even though Hanako will not be moved from the zoo, the deficiencies she has lived with for decades will be addressed. The outdated moat can be filled in or fenced off to keep her from falling in. Rubber flooring is a quick and viable solution to hard, cold concrete surfaces. Additional behavioral enrichment objects will help stimulate and keep Hanako active. Strategically placed infrared heaters and automatic waterers will increase her comfort. And Hanako’s keepers, whom she is so very fond of, will be encouraged to spend more time interacting with her to satisfy her social needs. This arrangement is not perfect, but Hanako will benefit from the improvements.
My goal for Hanako is to enrich her life while respecting her limitations. She is a grande old dame who has given her life to the people of Japan. In her final days, every effort should be made to bring her comfort and ensure that she feels loved, on her terms.
Hanako’s Report submitted to the zoo
EAI’s Chain Free Means Pain Free project, which frees elephant from chains is the first of its kind in Asia. Honestly I was surprised to learn that such an effort had never before been attempted for the thousands of captive-held elephants used in the tourist industry all over Asia.
Solar powered high tensile wire fencing is a simple and relatively inexpensive solution to the decades-long practiced of chaining elephants to a stake in the ground.
When our Chain Free Means Pain Free project was completed in Nepal in April 2015, I breathed a sigh of relief and felt flush with appreciation for what we’d accomplished.
It was not an easy project, working in remote areas, many times with no means to transport fencing materials, except on our backs. We crossed rivers, hiked through miles of jungle and dealt with hostile locals who saw the areas selected by the government for elephant corrals as their domain.
And then there were the naysayers, people incapable of embracing change, who made progress slower than necessary.
But through all the trials and tribulations, downpours, leaky roofs, river crossings, miles hiked in the searing heat and skeptics, we prevailed, creating corrals for 54 elephants and releasing them into their personal chain-free sanctuaries.
Without exception, introductions to the corrals were a phenomenal success, including for a few adult males with long tusks. Why not? The elephants clearly understood the freedom they were being given. Freedom and autonomy are great healers for a soul enslaved for decades. Each, without hesitation or concern, melted into the lush habitat that was their new home.
Mahouts feared change
Before their elephants were released from chains, the mahouts lost sleep, fearing that their elephant would take advantage of the freedom and become feral.
The consistency of the their fear surprised me. I naively assumed that mahouts knew elephant behavior and understood that freedom from chains reduces stress, which results in the elephants relaxing and becoming more cooperative. But they thought the opposite.
It was from this experience, repeated with every mahout, that I learned how little mahouts actually know about elephant psyche and behavior.
Hours spent in the hattisar (elephant stable) with the mahouts and the elephants taught me that most mahouts do not recognize an elephant’s most characteristic behaviors, such as playing, socializing, bonding and grieving. Mahout knowledge is limited to how to control an elephant and avoid getting killed. So much of what they think they know is superstition and folklore.
The first time the mahouts observed an adult elephant playing in her new corral they panicked. The mahouts wanted to stop her, control her, because they thought she was becoming aggressive. Awareness of an elephant’s emotional life or physical suffering is not something they are taught. Even minor physical problems are ignored until they become serious and require veterinary attention.
Different approach to unchaining pays off
As result of the time I spent observing the mahouts with their elephants, I realized I needed to approach the unchaining process differently. I needed to teach the mahouts about their elephants—their behavior, fears, likes and dislikes—and explain why unchaining affects elephants in a positive way.
This approach paid off. Even though some mahouts remained skeptical, most felt more confident in my promise that their relationship with their elephant would get better, not worse.
No success without sustainability
Another lesson I’ve learned though our Chain Free Means Pain Free project is that we must build sustainability into foreign projects.
It is not enough to provide a great product with stellar results if the locals are not able or willing to sustain it.
I returned to Nepal eight months after completing 54 chain-free corrals to find that few were actually still functioning and being used. I was devastated.
It seemed incomprehensible that minor repairs were not even attempted. In some cases, fully functioning corrals housed elephants on chains!
But I knew there had to be a solution. I simply would not give up. Sustainability is the measure of success and I was determined to keep these elephants off chains.
EAI hires Nepali manager
Last November, thanks to generous underwriting from supporter Donna Marshall, EAI hired a manager for our projects in Nepal.
Kulendra Kunwar, a native Nepali, was well known to EAI prior to being hired. He’d volunteered in the spring of 2015 during corral construction at the largest hattisar in Khorsor. He proved to be a valuable asset then and the perfect manager for our project now.
In just a few short months, thanks to Kulendra’s ability to repair corrals and educate and motivate the mahouts, 14 out of 15 hattisars now have corrals that are fully functional.
Of these 14 hattisars, all but two keep their elephants chain free 24/7. Those two keep their elephants chain free during daylight hours but, due to fear of the area’s poisonous king cobra snakes and tigers, the elephants are chained close to the home fires of the mahout housing at night.
New mahout housing means chain-free elephants
There is an easy solution for the two hattisars (Sukivar and Khoria Mohan) that fear the poisonous snakes and tigers.
Currently, the mahout housing—a simple two-room wooden shack, outhouse and outdoor cooking area—is several hundred yards from the corrals.
If we raise the funds to build mahout housing adjacent to the corrals, the elephants will be left off chains 24/7.
Our goal is to raise $16,500 for improvements at the two hattisars. As soon as the funds are raised, housing in both hattisars can be built and the elephants can once again be left chain free 24/7. If you would like to donate, you can do so here.
I am quite the optimist, dogged about my dreams. Hard work and seemingly impossible challenges don’t scare me off, although I do wonder why some things have to be so difficult. Then I remember that there is Nepali time and there is U. S. time, polar opposites in many ways. But there is never a time to give up.
Please join me in continuing to dream the dream that releases elephants from chains, reunites loved ones and changes culture to benefit captive-held elephants and the people who care for them.
Another predawn awakening, like a recurring dream.
I’m woken abruptly from a deep sleep by the heart wrenching cries of a suffering elephant. All I can do is swing open my window and yell into the pitch black night, “Hatti la na pita!” (Don’t hit the elephant!). My plea echoes through the darkness, landing on deaf ears.
It is not yet dawn, the time when most elephants savor their sleep. My heart clinches when I hear the too familiar crack of a bamboo stick across the hide of an elephant slave.
I try to block the sound and associated pain from my ears but I cannot. The reality and degree of suffering experienced by captive-held elephants in Chitwan National Park is unconscionable.
If it were not for a drive to improve the lives of the elephants used in Chitwan National Park, admittedly I would never come back to this place. The air is perpetually thick with the sights and sounds of elephant suffering.
The apathy among tourists and owners alike is mind-boggling. Both the mahouts and the elephants in their care are merely money-making machines, no more.
The elephants’ day begins before sunrise and ends after most tourists are in their rooms preparing for sleep.
Before the rooster crows, the chained elephants are roused from their slumber and forced by threat of physical punishment to eat, drink and be readied for safari rides for the hundreds of tourists who visit Chitwan National park every day of the year.
The elephants’ food consists of cuchi—rice wrapped in mildewed, dehydrated rice hay—so unpalatable they must be beaten to eat it. The mahouts will strike them repeatedly with bamboo sticks until they have eaten.
Mel Kali—the lucky one
In the far distance I hear the familiar trumpet call of Mel Kali. She is one of the lucky elephants in Nepal.
Mel Kali was retired two years ago. She is the only retired elephant in Nepal. As a result of her advanced age—72—and near-death experience two years ago, Mel Kali is finally allowed to live a pseudo-elephant life, free to wander the national park free of riders and the continual domination of her mahouts.
Abuse woven into the fabric
Many tourists come to Chitwan National Park for elephant entertainment, but I come because of the elephant suffering. To experience their pain and not make an effort to help seems unconscionable.
It is not possible for me to return to my relatively cushy life in the US and forget the elephants’ pain. Their cries tear at my heart. Their incarceration and treatment boggle my mind. It seems like a dream, but it is reality for the elephants 24/7, 365 days a year, for their entire lives. It is an elephant slave camp.
When I am in Nepal it is my policy to stay only at guest houses that do not own an elephant. It is my way of not contributing to the exploitation and abuse.
But it is impossible to avoid the abuse completely; it is woven into the fabric of Chitwan National Park.
At all hours of the morning and evening, the haunting cries of elephants echo across the landscape of dozens of tourist hotels. They live in filthy stables, experience continual harassment and beatings and work from sun-up to sundown carrying heavy loads of riders seeking a fun day in the national park. I cannot help but absorb the feelings of despair and pain the elephants experience. How can the tourists, elephant owners, conservation organizations and locals be oblivious to such obvious suffering? What has become of the human race that we are so insensitive to the cries of others?
Progress is slow but steady
Hatti la na pita—do not hit the elephant¬—were the first words I learned after arriving in Nepal five years ago. A phase lost on most. But now, all these years later, the mahouts are familiar with my request. Although they do not comprehend why I ask that they not hit their elephants, out of respect for my work, most refrain from hitting their elephant in my presence.
But seeing the abuse is not the only way to sense an elephant’s suffering. I am now hyper-sensitive to the sharp crack of the bamboo stick, the body language of an abused elephant, the demanding guttural commands of the mahouts and the oppressive energy in the elephant slave camps.
After spending more than two dozen months in Nepal working closely with our Nepali partners to improve elephant welfare, I am discouraged by the slow process.
But I must remember that we have succeeded in influencing many mahouts to treat their elephants more kindly; educated private and government owners alike about the welfare needs of elephants; and, most recently, freed 56 captive-held elephants from chains by creating chain-free corrals. The lives of these elephants are seriously improved.
And we will not stop until all elephants in Nepal are treated and fed properly, and are living chain-free.
Lotus stood perfectly still while her mahout removed the chain from her ankle. Next came Pang Dow and, last, Wassana, a land mine victim who lost part of her foot several years ago in an explosion.
They were unaware that their next few steps would be monumental.
Lovely Lotus led the small herd, the family she chose after arriving at Boon Lott’s Elephant Sanctuary (BLES). She walked in the direction of the corral. For a split second she hesitated at the gate opening. A calculating glance from gate post to gate post and the open span between and she was satisfied that it was safe to lead her family inside. Almost in slow motion, Lotus entered the chain-free corral.
I held my breath, knowing from experience the joy the elephants, their caregivers and the crew that only hours before had completed this first solar powered chain-free corral in Thailand, would feel.
Pang Dow and Wassana followed close behind Lotus, less than inches apart, as they silently flowed into the expansive corral filled with vegetation and clusters of trees. The air was buzzing with anticipation. The elephants knew something was up. How could they not? Half a dozen people gave off quite a collective energy as we watched in hopeful anticipation of the elephants’ reaction to their new found freedom.
Lotus, Pang Dow and Wassana cleared the gate opening, walked single file for less than 50 feet and then erupted into excited squeaks and trumpets. They broke line and huddled together, a tangle of trunks and tails, chattering excitedly, gently touching each other in reassurance.
The mahouts stayed silent to ensure the elephants knew they were free to do as they pleased–a novel experience for a captive-held elephant, especially in countries like Thailand, where elephants are a commodity used for tourist entertainment, always under the control of a mahout.
Before finding sanctuary at BLES, Wassana, Lotus and Pang Dow did not know freedom of any kind. Now they were about to experience the next level of freedom–autonomy. The ability to make their own choices about where they walk, when and with whom. What they eat, where they sleep and, most important, who they share their life with.
It took mere seconds for all three to realize they were free to wander at will. They moved like a school of fish, close together, in step with each other, exploring as one. Happy squeaks, trumpets, chattering and ground thumps echoed across the hilly terrain.
They soon forgot the humans who observed from outside the corral. They were in their own world, with their family, free from chains, to interact and share the natural habitat together.
After sampling the tender vegetation underfoot, they made their way into a thicket of trees. With low rumbles and tender chirps they disappeared into their personal mini-sanctuary.
Each time I witness the release of an elephant from chains, I am flooded with such deep emotion and with such gratitude, it’s as if it’s the first time I’ve experienced such a joyful event.
I see their immediate shift, their letting go of the past. They accept the gift provided and without looking back immerse themselves in their new found freedom.
I know that we have given a gift so great it transforms them. Being witness to an elephant’s release is life changing, the most powerful experience I’ve ever had.
Elephants living in captivity are stripped of everything meaningful in their lives; autonomy, freedom of choice, family. Sanctuary life begins to restore some of these things. Although most captive-held elephants will never experience a real family of their own, they form bonds as deep and meaningful with unrelated others as if they were biologically related.
The pure joy an elephant exhibits when given a resemblance of freedom is what drives me to do more. Chain free does mean pain free to these elephants. It is an honor to give back some of what has been taken away.
Watch their release:
and their introduction to their new chain-free corral:
Caring for male elephants in captivity is a challenge at best.
Attempts to provide a quality of life within the parameters dictated by their captivity produce poor results. Their size, natural tendency toward dominance and drive to breed, combined with their innate wildness, is a recipe for disaster in a captive situation.
Males are especially dangerous when they are in musth, a natural biological function when testosterone levels increase. During their annual musth season, captive-held males become too aggressive to approach and stop responding to their mahouts.
EAI respects the true nature of each elephant and would prefer that no elephant live in captivity. But elephants whose lives are forever altered by captivity need our help.
Lambodhar Prasad: In musth, out of water
We were building chain-free corrals when Lambodhar Prasad came into musth. He was unapproachable. His front wrists were chained together, secured to a large wooden timber that was buried 10 feet deep to prevent his escape. He had no shelter from the hot sun, the seasonal storms that pellet him with golf ball-size hail or the frightening earthquake that devastated entire villages in Nepal earlier this month.
And he had no access to water to drink unless the mahouts brought it to him.
Because of his aggressive state, mahouts could not get close enough to Lambodhar Prasad to give him water, which concerned them and made them anxious to find a solution. Their only option was to offer Lambodhar Prasad water in a large metal cooking pot.
Out of trunk’s reach, several mahouts struggled to push the heavy pot close to Lambodhar Prasad with a long bamboo pole. A thick handmade rope was tied to one handle of the pot in order to pull it back, out of Lambohdar Prasad’s reach, after he finished drinking.
But things did not go as planned. Lambodhar Prasad was irritable, not in a mood to cooperate. He grabbed the pot with his trunk and before the mahouts could yank it away, he crushed it under his foot.
The mahouts were out of ideas and had no resources to solve the problem, so they came to EAI for help.
A simple solution
An immediate solution was devised, simple but effective.
EAI volunteers headed to town to buy a replacement cooking pot/water dish. We purchased an electric water pump and water hose and hired a plumber to hook it up to the existing well where the mahouts bathe and wash their cloths and dishes. The Chitwan National Parks Department provided a large water storage tank as a back-up for when the electricity is out, which in Nepal is more often then not.
While the plumber was installing the pump, connecting the water hose and setting up the water tank, the mahouts wasted no time wiring the pump at a nearby building.
There are no inspections required or codes for electric and plumbing work at the hattisar. You just do it!
In a couple of hours our solution was up and running. The mahouts were relieved and excited about the prospect of being able to water Lambodhar Prasad and give him a bathe as well.
Then came the moment to test out the new watering system.
As suggested, the mahouts filled the water pot before maneuvering it in front of Lambodhar Prasad. He was seriously thirsty and drank hurriedly for several minutes. But as he quenched his thirst, his drive for dominance surfaced.
The muscles in his face tightened as he grabbed for the pot in an act of defiance. The mahouts recognized his attitude shift and pulled the pot out of his reach. The pot lived to provide water for another day.
Learn how you can support EAI’s pilot project to build Lambodhar Prasad his own steel pipe corral.
Mahouts know we care
Every effort in Nepal is unnecessarily difficult due to limited or nonexistent resources, expertise and motivation. Generations of mahouts have grown to believe that nothing can or will be done to make their job easier or the lives of the elephants in their care better. They have stopped asking for help, or perhaps they never started.
But now, because you, our supporters, have enabled EAI to offer new resources, options and solutions, the mahouts know that there are people who truly care about them and the welfare of their elephants. They have begun to ask for help. They have begun to believe that when they ask, their concerns will be heard and their need for assistance will be answered.
The most encouraging shift we have observed is that mahouts are beginning to speak up for their elephants. Improvements in elephant welfare can be encouraged from the outside but true sustainability comes from within. The mahouts are the key to improved elephant welfare in Nepal.
EAI is honored to partner with them. Learn how you can support mahouts and their elephants.
Chitwan National Park’s annual rhino count is underway.
50 government elephants, from all over Nepal, take part in the survey. Elephants and their mahouts fan out through the jungle, covering Chitwan National Park from east to west. This is the most effective way to gain an accurate count of the rhino population in the park.
The elephants benefit because they spend a couple of weeks inside the jungle, day and night. Being immersed in their natural habitat is rejuvenating.
In preparation for the count, the elephants gather at two central hattisars–Khorsor and Sauraha, the two hattisars where we completed our chain free corrals last week.
Four boarders arrived at Khorsor yesterday. The scene was mesmerizing. Thanks to our chain-free corrals, families were reunited.
Simsar Kali and her mother were as one, floating peacefully, side by side, chain free. Tumor Kali was also with them, a threesome of chain-free compatibility.
Young Amaltari Gaj was also in elephant heaven. He and his mother grazed peacefully, chain free, a tearful reunion of joy.
Change is happening!
Below: Mom, daughter and a friend reunited when mom visited from another hattisar.
This release was a surprise to all of us and the reason we build a chain-free corral for each elephant, even if we are told the elephant will remain on chains.
You just never know what will happen tomorrow. Changing minds, changing culture!
Yesterday was a day of celebration for EAI and all who support our work. In addition to the work over the past year and a half, culminating in the release of tens of elephant from chains, it was the day you could actually feel the consciousness at the Khorsor hattisar shift.
Without prompting, Puja Kali’s mahouts released her from chains.
Earlier in the week, mahouts insisted that Puja Kali could not be released from chains due to her history of aggression. But they brainstormed and decided that if three mahouts were present when they approached Puja Kali, the situation would be safe.
Without any further discussion they released her from chains.
This is a seriously significant turn of events. It is the first time we have witnessed the mahouts trouble shooting a problem, putting the elephants’ needs first.
The mahouts deserve all the credit!
Ganesha Kali and her unnamed calf were the first to be released in a procession of another seven elephants in our Chain Free Means Pain Free program. Their mahout was surprisingly receptive to having his elephants go chain free. Attitudes are changing.