Himal Gaj is a six-year-old captive born elephant. His father is the dominant wild bull in the area. His mother is a wild born, captive resident of the elephant breeding center at Khosor, Chitwan, Nepal.
Himal Gaj was one of five young elephants trained together at the breeding center several months ago. Until their formal training, they lived with their mothers.
All five elephants were chained from the age of three months. Chaining is the practice all over Asia. Domestic livestock and captive elephants are tied or chained. It is the cheapest way to keep them in one place.
The training technique used with Himal Gaj and the others at the breeding center was a deviation from the traditional pujan, a brutal breaking of spirit. Introduced by a foreign NGO, a mixture of traditional methods was used—including the use of koonkie elephants, negative reinforcement and punishment—combined with positive reinforcement techniques known to be successful with domestic horses.
Unfortunately, once training began, Himal Gaj showed signs of aggression and resistance. He was frightened by the training process and responded poorly to his mahouts. A few months later his training was deemed unsuccessful.
No video, photographic or written records exist to document the daily training process and Himal Gaj’s progress and difficulties.
But it does not take such documentation to see that Himal Gaj is a very insecure individual.
Although Himal Gaj responds well when his mahout is riding, his weakness is responding to commands when his mahout is on the ground.
Himal Gaj is a good example of the importance of sound training techniques, mahout training and follow through.
Captive elephants are not domesticated—they are wild animals living in a captive environment. Even generations born in captivity are not domesticated. The scientific process of breeding selected individuals for specific traits is the process required to create a domestic species. This has never been undertaken with elephants.
In the case of all elephants born at the breeding facility in Khosor, the mothers are wild born living in captivity and the fathers are wild born living in the wild.
Himal Gaj’s mahouts are as gentle as I have seen anywhere. They are patient but frustrated. What the training process failed to do was give them the tools necessary to help Himal Gaj learn.
As a result, all are left feeling like failures. Without intervention, Himal Gaj is doomed to be a dangerous elephant for the remainder of his life.
The good news is that the mahouts and Kamal Kunwar, the chief commanding officer of Chitwan National Park, are receptive to Himal Gaj receiving additional training. His private training course will begin soon.
This is such exciting news. I feared Himal Gaj would remain a lost cause in the minds of the mahouts. But before his chain-free corral is completed Himal Gaj, will be well on his way to understanding what is expected of him and his mahouts will have gained the humane tools to understand and assist him in his training process.
It’s easy to look at an elephant shackled by both front feet to the ground, with open wounds, and blame the mahout.
But I challenge you to learn the facts.
Elephants belong to hotel owners
In Chitwan, Nepal, mahouts do not own elephants. Elephants are the private property of hotel owners, who use them to augment their income by offering elephant back safaris to overnight guests and daytrippers coming to Chitwan in search of fun and adventure.
Elephant back safaris not only provide a bountiful financial benefit for the owner, they are actually the life’s blood of Chitwan.
In Sauraha, Chitwan’s tourist destination, every shopkeeper, restaurant owner, hotel, bar, service provider, wilderness guide, money changer, street vendor and orphanage owe their survival to these elephants. Many falsely claim that without elephant safaris, this tourist destination would cease to exist.
Grueling work schedule
All day long, 24/7, mahouts and elephants give safari rides in the community forest.
Mahouts train, feed and ready the elephants for the rides. It is a grueling job for both. Up at 4:30am, the pair sets out on the long trek to the safari loading area as the rising sun lights up the morning sky.
During what is supposed to be a one-hour lunch and rest period, the elephants instead are taken to a riverfront area where tourists mount them to have their photo taken.
Walking back and forth to the safari ride area, tourist bathing area and home stable, while carrying hundreds of pounds of tourists for hours at a time, takes its toll on elephant and mahout alike.
At dusk, and even into the dark of night, elephants can be seen silhouetted against the sky trudging down the paved roads of Chitwan toward their home stable.
Mahouts: Overworked, underpaid and devalued
Elephant owners know nothing about elephants and rely on the mahouts to keep the elephants alive and working without killing tourists. This is a heavy burden to put on overworked, underpaid and devalued employees.
When mahouts “ask for more,” be it food for themselves or the elephants, they are chastised. Many owners view the mahouts as stupid, uneducated and unmotivated and blame them for the elephant’s unsanitary living conditions and poor health.
Yet mahouts are not provided even the most basic supplies to ensure the health and wellbeing of the elephants in their care. Owners fail to supply nutritious food but blame the mahouts for the elephant’s poor health. Stables are rancid cesspools because no provision is made for waste disposal. Many stables don’t even have a source of fresh water. For this, the mahout is unjustly blamed.
A marginalized community
The truth is that the mahouts are a marginalized community. The custom of treating them as poorly as the elephants is woven into the fabric of society and their living conditions are a mirror image of those of the elephants.
Mahouts learn their trade on the job, from senior mahouts. Their lot in life dictates they do as they are told without question. They hit the elephants because they are taught they must in order to ensure the elephant does not kill them.
Still, this does not excuse how the mahouts mistreat the elephants.
Abuse can be eliminated
Through education and culture shifting, elephant abuse can be eliminated.
Demonizing either owners or mahouts is not the solution.
The first step is understanding why the situation exists and accepting the challenge to help move culture forward.
Owners must be held responsible and mahouts and tourists must be educated.
This will result in improved welfare for the elephants in Chitwan.
How we can help
Developing sustainable assistance programs is essential. Live demonstrations, educational resources such as videos and manuals, translators and hands-on assistance are needed to improve mahout knowledge and understanding of new approaches to elephant care.
This is Elephant Aid International’s mission. By providing bi-annual foot trimming; training mahouts and vet techs in the skill of foot trimming; teaching positive reinforcement training philosophy and techniques; and constructing chain-free corrals, we are laying the foundation for positive change.
EAI doesn’t blame the mahouts. We give them the tools necessary to take better care of their elephants.
It was a 10-hour drive through mountains on rough roads. The 19-year-old driver of our rental truck scared the daylights out of all of us with his speeding, passing trucks on blind curves and nearly missing oncoming vehicles. Oh man — it was a stressful ten hours!
But our foot trimming program was a grand success. We had a fabulous trimming team: Dr. Gairhe; Kiran the vet tech; Hira, Kirti Kali’s phanet (head mahout) from the NTNC hattisar; and I.
Our students included Chantelle, our intern; Surajan, a new friend and translator; and the vet tech from Bardia.
In two short days we trimmed the feet of 24 government and privately owned elephants.
Honestly, the condition of the privately owned elephant’s feet was criminal, similar to the privately owned elephants in Chitwan. Their pads were dry, cracked and severely overgrown. The nails were equally as dry and overgrown and many had splits and deep cracks.
Private owner, broken shelter
I am always shocked to see how poorly the privately owned elephants are kept, especially since they are the breadwinners for their owners.
The good news is that 24 more elephants received pedicures and their mahouts were introduced to foot care. With time things can change for these over-used, abused and neglected elephants…I hope.
A huge thank-you goes out to the trimming team. Without their enthusiasm and hard work we could not have accomplished our goal to provide foot care for elephants in Bardia!
You can make a difference in the life of a captive elephant by supporting our Foot Care project. Thanks for your help.
Chain-Free Hattisar Project
National Trust for Nature Conservation – Biodiversity Conservation Center
Chitwan, Nepal
REPORT
Project completed Jan 10, 2013
Department of National Parks and Wildlife Conservation Jhamak Karki, Chief Warden-Chitwan National Park
Dr. Kamal Gairhe, Senior Wildlife Veterinarian-Chitwan National Park
National Trust for Nature Conservation Naresh Subedi, Senior Conservation Officer
Chiranjibi Pd. Pokheral, Senior Conservation Officer-Biodiversity Conservation Center
Babu Ram Lamichhane, Conservation Officer-Biodiversity Conservation Center
Dr. Arjun Pandit, Staff Veterinarian- Biodiversity Conservation Center
In collaboration with
Elephant Aid international-USA Carol Buckley, Founder and CEO
INTRODUCTION
In January 2013, construction was completed on a solar-powered chain-free hattisar at the National Trust for Nature Conservation’s Biodiversity Conservation Center (NTNC-BCC).
This first-of-its-kind pilot project was developed to study the benefits of working elephants in Nepal living chain-free.
Six elephants, ranging from seven months to seventy-plus years, currently live in five interconnected chain-free corrals designed to improve their welfare.
The elephants spend an average of fifteen hours in the hattisar each day. In the past they were hobbled by both front legs, chained under a shelter that prevented natural posturing and healthy physical activity.
Now, living in the chain-free corral, each elephant is free to move at will and engage in natural behavior such as dusting, foraging, sleeping, bathing, walking, playing. In the case of Man Kali and her children, eight-year-old daughter Prakriti Kali and seven-month-old son Hem Gaj, this related family is able to engage in normal social behavior.
Corral construction and operating system
The corral’s operating system is a solar-powered energizer with a double battery back-up. Three hours of sunlight is required to keep the batteries charged for 10 days.
Specifically designed for wildlife, the corral administers a mild shock upon contact. Due to the pulsating current, it is virtually harmless. Being highly sensitive to the clicking sound of the current, most elephants avoid the fence without ever coming into contact with it.
The chain-free hattisar consists of five interconnected corrals on approximately two-and-one-half acres of open and wooded land.
The corrals stand seven feet tall, constructed of rust-free steel posts and six strands of high tensile wire. Each post is encased in a protective tope.
Each corral has a front, back and side gate for ease of access for cleaning, feeding, moving elephants in and out and providing socialization opportunities.
The energizer and batteries are housed inside the mahout residence; two solar panels that charge the batteries are attached to the roof of the residence.
Each corral is equipped with a cut-off switch enabling independent operation.
This design has proven successful in many areas of Asia to prevent entry by wild bull elephants.
Fresh water is stored in an elevated water tank and troughs are filled by gravity feed.
All corrals have a custom-made concrete water trough that provides clean water.
Healthy trees are an important component of the chain-free corrals, providing shade, browse and a natural scratching surface.
To prevent serious damage to trees from elephant tusking activity, protectors were built around select trees.
GOALS AND OBJECTIVES
Reduce or eliminate stereotypical behavior caused by chaining
Eliminate low-level long-term stress caused by chaining
Increase physical activity
Encourage engagement in natural species-specific behavior such as foraging, dusting, bathing, walking, playing, socializing and exploring
Eliminate injuries and bone and joint damage
Improve foot health
Maintain elephants’ compliance with mahout authority
METHODS
Ethogram
Husbandry protocol
Management protocol
Feeding protocol
1. ETHOGRAM
In order to quantify the effectiveness of the chain-free corral, an ethogram spreadsheet was created to track a list of natural and stereotypical behaviors, including walking, eating, dusting, playing, exploring, drinking, socializing, sleeping and exhibiting stereotypic behaviors.
2. HUSBANDRY PROTOCOL
Manure removal and corral cleanliness standards were established to ensure the highest level of hygiene.
3. MANAGEMENT PROTOCOL
Training and management practices for inside the corral were established to give elephants a sense of freedom and security.
4. FEEDING PROTOCOL
Changes to traditional feeding practices were established to promote activity and alleviate boredom.
PROGRESS AND PRELIMINARY RESULTS
Each elephant spends approximately 15 hours each day in the chain-free corrals. The remainder of their time is spent in Chitwan National Park engaged in grass collecting, anti-poaching patrols and conservation work and jungle safaris.
Upon first introduction to the chain-free corrals, each elephant calmly explored the area, foraging, dusting and scratching on trees. Each evening they dig in the soft dirt of the forest, creating a comfortable sleeping spot; none return to the stable area to sleep.
The related family of Man Kali, Prakriti Kali and Hem Gaj are housed together. They bonded immediately when united in the chain-free corral and continue to exhibit healthy elephant behavior, with Prakriti Kali assuming the role of big sister to Hem Gaj.
A survey was conducted to track the behavior of the elephants toward the mahouts and drivers. Mahout compliance has not changed. Each elephant continues to respond favorably to mahouts and drivers—both inside and outside the corral—at the same high level as before being released from chains.
Photographic records are being kept to track foot health and bone and joint conditions.
Collectively, the elephants’ behavior represents a substantial improvement in natural activity and reduction in stress and stereotypical behavior.
CONCLUSION
The goal to eliminate stress from chaining and the resulting stereotypic behavior is realized. Adherence to the new feeding protocol ensures that both Prakriti Kali and Mel Kali do not engage in stereotypic, food anticipatory behavior. Since being introduced into the chain-free corral hattisar, all elephants engage in appropriate, beneficial, species-specific behavior; respond favorably to their mahouts; and appear to be calm and comfortable in their new environment, indications that the project is meeting its goals and objectives.
A hauntingly familiar sound of clanking chains passed by my window, so close I thought perhaps my wall would be crushed. The clink clink clink of cold metal bracelets was unmistakable; an escapee was passing by my room in his effort to disappear into the freedom of the bordering National Park.
Switching off the lights to avoid attracting attention, I pushed open the screen door and stepped into the darkness.
The rattle of chains chilled me to the bone as a silhouette passed in front of me. First one and then a second, moving silently except for the clanging of the chain hobbles secured around the front ankles of the smaller elephant.
On this, the night before I leave Sauraha, I wondered why I was to witness another unbearable scene of captive elephant suffering.
The escapee had entered through the front gate at NTNC-BCC and slowed when he found himself fenced in. The second elephant, a koonki, was being used to subdue and calm the young male, whose ivory glistened in the moonlight.
When the bull stopped, the mahout began to speak in a soft but firm tone. He told his elephant, the koonki, to bite, which means to stretch out on her sternum. By assuming this vulnerable position, the elephant appeared to bring comfort to the escapee.
It was then that I saw a mahout precariously perched on top of the young bull, no doubt frightened half out of his wits, with nothing at all to secure himself.
As soon as the koonki reclined, a command was given for the bull to recline, which he did without hesitation. The reality is that he was frightened and I believe the mahouts involved realized this. As soon as he reclined the mahouts switched elephants and the koonki left silently.
A little more rattling of the chains and the hobbles were removed, and the young bull moved swiftly back from where he’d come–the government hattisar (elephant stable) next door.
Not willing to witness the brutal scene I assumed would follow, I called out into the night, no pita (don’t hit). No response. As the elephant and mahout passed my room I called out again, which was when I saw a flashlight-wielding man walking behind the elephant.
“Government center hattie (elephant)?” I asked.
“Yes, Raj, from the government center,” he politely replied.
“The elephant is afraid,” I said. ”Do not add to his misery by beating him.”
“You are foot trimming lady, right?” he asked. “You trimmed Raj a few days ago–he had a bad nail.”
“Be kind, Raj is a wild animal,” I said.
”No, not a wild elephant, government elephant,” was his reply.
“Yes, a government elephant and wild,” I said.
There we stood under a bright near-full moon discussing the fact that although these elephants are living in captivity they remain wild animals, never formally domesticated and always to remain wild. When I said they deserve to be treated with compassion because of their circumstances, the mahout nodded in polite agreement. He spoke surprisingly good English and appeared to understand what I was saying. In seconds he vanished into the darkness, leaving me to contemplate what I had just witnessed.
For some time I stood listening to hear if Raj would be brutalized for his attempted escape. But this night I would not have to be reminded of the elephant suffering that permeates this tourist destination in Nepal. The only sound that pierced the night air was the soft repetition of forest birds and chirping insects.
I have held off writing this blog for weeks hoping that my experience was anecdotal. I also wondered if sharing my experience and expressing my concern could be beneficial or would simply broaden the already huge culture gap that divides humans who view all beings as sentient and those who do not. As the situation continues to repeat itself over and over again I realize—even though I am still unsure of the outcome—that an expression of my concern is required.
Over the past four months I have been immersed in creating a healthy environment for six captive held elephants in Nepal. The challenge to improve their welfare is relatively easy, their transition seemingly effortless. The problems we experience are not with the elephants, it’s with people.
Although the facility where I am working is a private NGO conducting wildlife conservation studies, the general public feels it is their right to enter the grounds and act in any manner they please, which at a minimum consists of invading the animals’ personal space to take photos—not of the animal but of themselves standing next to the animal. Sadly, the animal is insignificant; it is a photo of themselves that they wish to save for prosperity.
It has become increasingly distressing to witness the degree to which people disregard and abuse animals. Even authority figures are unable to protect captive held wildlife and wild animals from insidious abuse by humans.
This exasperating situation is repeated all over Asia, where wildlife, both captive and in-situ, find themselves harassed by frenzied mobs of non-empathetic humans.
Take, for example, the recent craze in Coimbatore forests in India, where crowds of people gather on a regular basis to incite wild elephants to become aggressive. Who has the power to change the mindset that gives people permission to harass wild animals on this grand scale? Where is common decency? And where does religion come into play in the cultural abuse of non-human animals?
It has been my observation that policing authorities have little influence on crowds of people unless batons and violence are employed. A seemingly docile crowd can erupt into an angry, violent mob in seconds. The trigger that transforms a crowd of people is simple: ask someone to stop doing what s/he is doing.
For example, request that a person not enter a private area and your request will be met with a refusal, followed by immediate argument. All the while, the offender will continue to enter the premises, totally ignoring the request.
The problem is compounded if the person is not alone but accompanied by others, which is most often the case. Everyone will equally ignore the request and add their voice to the argument. The volume of verbal resistance increases until a confrontation ensues, with the offending crowd encircling the requester, yelling their refusal in an attempt to intimidate.
The offenders appear to cross all lines of common decency, causing stress and trauma to the wildlife, who have no other way to respond but to become aggressive to protect themselves. At this point the animal is viewed as the offender and made to suffer further for his/her response to the abusive crowd of unruly people.
Trying to stop the abuse
I wonder almost every day what can be done to prevent widespread, systematic animal abuse. Education is the most obvious, but until such time as a new generation can be sensitized to the pain and suffering of non-human animals, the question remains, what can be done to protect the innocent?
We have tried posting signs, which are torn down and spat upon. Placing an educator in key locations to speak with the public, both about the wildlife and the appropriate human behavior in the presence of wildlife, proved equally ineffective. The public argues, demands to be allowed past the barrier, pushes past, verbally abuses the educator and demands to touch, feed and have their photo taken touching the captive wildlife.
I witness crowds of people taunting wild animals and intentionally abusing domestic livestock and street dogs on a regular basis. The lack of empathy and even malice shown toward non-human animals is mirrored in the manner in which a rioting crowd responds to authority figures. On too many occasions I have witnessed a complete disregard and disrespect for a reasonable and legal request, such as “please do not feed, tease, hit or touch the animal.” Surprisingly, many people appear to view these activities as one of their inalienable rights.
It is not possible for me to turn my back and walk away when animals are being abused. As result, on too many occasions, I have become the focus of an enraged crowd of near-violent humans ready to bash my head in because I have told them to stop harassing the elephants, to not hit the dog or even to refrain from tormenting the baby rhino. Admittedly, nothing I have tried has worked to stop the violence except to stand between the tormentors and the animal they have targeted. But this approach is not sustainable. So then, what to do?
Fencing has been used to keep captive wildlife in. Until a new empathetic generation emerges it appears the same approach must be taken to keep the human wildlife out.
I am back in Nepal. So much has happened during my first month here!
I accepted a kind offer from the National Trust for Nature Conservation’s Biodiversity Conservation Center to live on-grounds. It was a good decision. There is always something interesting going on, local and foreign students visiting and opportunities to learn about the work of the many conservationists on NTNC-BCC’s staff.
We have already trimmed feet at the two government centers, NTNC and some private stables, but foot trimming has taken a back seat to other projects for now.
Expanding the chain-free corral in a big way
When I arrived, the first order of business was identifying a location for an additional chain-free corral at NTNC-BCC for Man Kali and her new calf. After I described my long-term aspirations for NTNC’s elephants, senior staff suggested that we petition to expand our chain-free corral pilot project to include the entire hattisar (elephant compound). I was deliriously happy with the idea that we might be given permission to convert the entire hattisar all at once.
Chitwan National Park’s chief warden and senior veterinarian, the Department of National Parks and Wildlife Conservation’s ecologist and NTNC’s officer-in-charge explored the idea and unanimously endorsed it. The project is scheduled to begin December 15th.
The funds to build the expanded corral were donated by EAI’s dedicated supporters including a most generous and timely donation from the Harrison Sanford Jackson estate. This donation has come at the perfect time for EAI to make a serious impact on elephant welfare in Nepal with this chain-free hattisar, the first of its kind in the country.
Not only does the chain-free corral expansion mean that all six NTNC-BCC hattisar elephants will never again be shackled, the design enables them to socialize with each other.
Reuniting the family
Knowing the importance of the mother and calf bond, you can imagine how excited I was when Dr. Gairhe, Chitwan National Park’s senior government veterinarian, suggested that the family group at NTNC be allowed to live together in the same corral.
Even though Prakriti Kali and her mother both live in the same hattisar, they have not been allowed to socialize for four years, since Prakriti Kali was formally trained. This practice of separation is traditional, meant to break the mother/calf bond.
But onlookers can see that the bond between Prakriti Kali and her mother is still strong. On occasion when they are relatively close, Prakriti Kali rumbles, her mom responds and Prakriti Kali instantly assumes a posture that the mahouts refer to as “four feet together”: an awkward, stereotypical posture she exhibits when she appears to be soliciting comfort.
Dr. Gaihre’s recommendation and the blessing of PasPat, the mahout supervisor, means that Prakriti Kati will be reunited with her biological mother after four years of separation. She will also meet her baby brother Hem Gaj, for the very first time. Together the three will share a chain-free space designed specifically for them.
Anyone who has witnessed the reunion of Shirley and Jenny in the award-winning documentary “The Urban Elephant” can imagine what this reunion will look and sound like. Elephant reunions–there is nothing more moving.
Watch this short video on EAI’s work and hear from Prakriti Kali’s (aka Sweetie Kali) mahout about the difference a chain-free corral has made in her life:
A life lost to herpes
Shortly after I arrived in Nepal, a two-year-old calf at the Government Breeding Center succumbed to the herpes virus. This insidious disease is relatively new to Nepal but has claimed the lives of many captive-born elephants in the US, where extensive research is being conducted.
The loss of any elephant is heart wrenching, but to lose a baby is particularly difficult. The mahouts were quite obviously grief stricken as they gathered in near-silence to bury one of the youngest members of their family. Incense was burned and prayers given as the mahouts dropped flowers into her grave. One of the young veterinarians in attendance said that the mahouts view the elephant as having personhood status. To them, losing this calf was the same as losing a family member.
Since herpes is a virus, there is no vaccination to guard against it. It appears and kills quickly, usually within days of the first signs (lethargy and dark spots on the tongue). The medication prescribed to help combat the disease has had mixed results and, as I found out, is not available in Nepal. Thankfully, our friends at Wildlife SOS-India came to our rescue. Dr. Yaduraj spent days locating the volume of drug required. After three shippers refused to ship to Nepal, he found one who was willing. There was one last delay—when the package was returned to Wildlife-SOS for additional address information—then it was finally sent on its way. Our sincerest thanks go to Dr. Yaduraj for his assistance purchasing and shipping the medication to us.
Getting accurate weights in case
All babies and their mothers at the breeding center were weighed. If any of the babies become ill, Dr. Gaihre will be able to prescribe an accurate dose of medicine.
If treatment is needed, the veterinarian must know the patient’s weight in order to prescribe the accurate dose of medication. It was decided that all the elephants should be weighed in the event another baby is stricken with the virus. There is a scale on-grounds but the elephants needed to be trained to step onto the platform. They all did great but the calves were especially fabulous. They all took their turn to step onto the platform. None showed a bit of fear; each of them walked confidently across the platform to receive a tasty treat.
Checking tongues
As an added precautionary measure, the babies were also trained for tongue examinations, a simple and painless procedure to detect the disease in its early stages.
The babies were willing participants in the Compassionate Elephant Care training method, which uses only positive reinforcement. Within three days all the calves were happily laying their trunk back across their forehead and sticking out their tongue for their reward: a juicy orange slice. With the trunk and tongue in this position mahouts can easily examine the calf’s tongue for abnormalities.
EAI paid for a shipment of medication used to combat herpes and worked with mahouts to show them how to train the babies for tongue examinations.
The mahouts are now checking the babies’ tongues twice a day–once in the morning before going to the forest and then again in the evening when they return. Hopefully the virus will not strike again but, if it does, the mahouts’ vigilance could make all the difference.
Still fighting for Mali
Efforts to move Mali from her solitary existence in a zoo in the Philippines to a sanctuary in Thailand continue. An op ed by Carol comparing Mali’s life to that of Tina, who came to live at The Elephant Sanctuary, appeared this summer in a paper in the Philippines. Since then, Carol’s op ed has also appeared in Sri Lanka’s Sunday Times and, most recently, the Bangkok Post.
And now we are three
EAI will soon celebrate its third anniversary. It’s hard to believe we have come so far and accomplished so much in such a short period of time.
We have been able to do so much – and have such an impact – because you share our dream and continue to support the important work we do. With so many needy elephants in situations that, at times, are overwhelming, it is essential to know that you are backing our efforts to make life better for captive-held elephants in Asia.
It doesn’t matter if we are building chain-free corrals, teaching mahouts to handle their elephants in a gentler manner, providing pedicures to any elephant in need or stockpiling medicine to treat baby elephants infected with the herpes virus, you are always there to make sure that we are able to provide swift and humane assistance, one elephant at a time.
We cannot do it without you. At a time when elephants are fighting for their very existence across Asia and Africa, you help EAI make a real difference. I know you will remember these hardworking and many times neglected elephants in your year-end giving.
2013 promises to be another year of challenges and change for the better. I look forward to continuing our work together.
It’s been a pretty intense week. A two-year-old female calf at the breeding center was diagnosed with herpes. Even though she received treatment, she passed away two days later.
Herpes is near-epidemic among elephants in the US and recently reared its ugly head in Chitwan. Young calves between the ages of one and three seem to be most susceptible but there are records of juveniles and adults dying from the disease as well.
You’ll remember Bhadra, the fabulous flaming redhead we trained with positive reinforcement in Sauraha, Nepal. He died of the herpes virus last year, shortly before his second birthday. His mahout was so devastated that he left his job and returned to his home village.
Famciclovir, the treatment of choice for herpes, is not available in Nepal and must be imported from India. A small elephant can require as many as 1000 pills to fight the virus. The exorbitant cost—75 cents per pill—and large quantity needed, made stockpiling the medication impossible.
The calf was given available medication and was under treatment and constant surveillance as I arrange for a shipment of Famciclovir from friends at Wildlife SOS-India. Unfortunately, the drug did not arrive in time to save her. She died in the night with her mother stoically standing by. Records indicate that even with Famciclovir many calves do not survive.
I accompanied the team for the necropsy and somber burial; both were done with the utmost respect. All the mahouts were present and, for the first time in my observation, near silent. As Dr. Gaihre led the exploratory necropsy, examining and collecting tissue samples for lab work, the mahouts dug a grave. It was a sad and sobering experience. This calf had the classic symptoms of herpes–severe hemorrhaging–but otherwise was a very healthy elephant.
When it came time to lay her body to rest, I instinctively glanced around for wild flowers to place on her grave, just as we always did at the Sanctuary. After her precious body was covered with a sparkling clean white linen cloth, incense was lit and ceremonial red powder and flowers were sprinkled over her covered body. When the flowers I collected left my hand and floated down into her grave, a wave of gentle remembering engulfed my heart as I thought of the beloved elephants who had lived and died at the Sanctuary. At this moment we were all one, sharing the loss of a sacred soul.
The senior wildlife staff presided over the burial. Although the words spoken over her grave were in Nepalese and foreign to my ear, I knew exactly what the prayers were. It was the same ceremony, the same prayers uttered each time we buried another precious elephant at the Sanctuary. Like never before, I felt a connection with the mahouts who care as deeply for their elephants as we do ours.
Preparing for next time
The signs of herpes include dark spots on the tongue. By checking the tongue twice a day, the disease can be diagnosed in the early stages. In an effort to monitor the other three young calves at the breeding center, I was asked to train them for tongue examinations, a request that I was happy to fulfill.
The first day of training was a heart-lifting success. We were able to get the calves to place their trunks on their foreheads—for a tasty piece of banana—and took photos of their tongues.
Additionally, I ordered Famciclovir. Even though the drug may expire before it can be used, I feel strongly that having it on-hand whenever possible is important. We were not able to help one precious elephant but if the disease strikes again we will be better prepared.
Working in Asia the past two years I have learned a tremendous amount about how culture and tradition affect collaborative conservation efforts. Among the most important lessons is the need to ensure project sustainability. No matter how groundbreaking or beneficial the project promises to be, it must be sustainable to be successful.
Ways to sustain the project must be identified during the planning stage, otherwise the effort put into it will have been wasted. Sustainability determines success and people ensure sustainability.
Before returning to Chitwan, I wondered if our chain-free yard pilot project for Sweetie Kali, aka Prakriti Kali, would prove to be sustainable. Although I prepared myself for less, I hoped the mahouts had truly embraced this welfare project. Success hinged on their acceptance of this approach to elephant care, which is nearly the polar opposite to their tradition.
As I approached the elephant stables I saw Sweetie Kali foraging in her personal forest. The dense scrubs were a faint memory but the mature trees were standing tall, providing shade and enrichment, just as they had when we built the yard last May.
I was pleased and honestly a bit relieved to see that the chain-free fence was in pristine condition. The staff, under the direction of Chiran Pokheral, the officer in charge, did a fabulous job of ensuring the success of our pilot project.
It’s my nature to push headlong into the next project forgetting to take a moment to bask in the glow of a collaborative project well done. It is too easy to get swept away in the excitement of something new and forget to thank the people responsible for making everything happen.
In addition to Paspat and the mahouts, who were completely receptive to the changes in their routine that a chain-free yard required, many other individuals, including Chiran Pokheral, Dr. Gairhe, Ram Kumar, Babu Ram, Nandu, Vishnu and Dibyendu and his crew, made this project possible. Without their support and assistance, this project would never have come to fruition, much less become sustainable.
Special thanks goes to Chiran Pokheral who, after securing the required clearances, made sure I had access to plumbers, electricians and day laborers, and the cooperation of everyone needed to complete the project. Without Chiran we would still be dreaming about a chain-free yard instead of watching Prakriti Kali thrive in it.
Dr. Gairhe, the senior government veterinarian, also played a key role in the project’s success. A true conservationist, Dr. Gairhe’s endorsement and oversight of the project provided the much-needed assurance at the government level.
Now that I am back in Sauraha, it’s time to identify a location for the second chain-free yard. This yard will be for Man Kali and her three-and-a-half month old calf Hem Gaj. Once again we turn to Chiran Sir, Dr. Gairhe and the NTNC staff to lead us in our effort to improve elephant welfare in Nepal.
My first morning in Assam, I awoke to learn there was an elephant emergency.
Thirty-five-year-old, Bahabur, a skilled koonki (elephants trained to assist mahouts in the capture, training and management of wild elephants) who only days before successfully pulled a wild rhino from a mud bog nearly lost his right ear in a fight with a wild bull elephant.
Bahabur is intimately familiar with both captive and wild elephants. He lives with a non-related herd of koonki elephants whose job it is to assist their wild kin by participating in human-elephant conflict mitigation.
When wild elephants emerge from the forest in search of food and water, they raid crops and create havoc. In an effort to protect both elephants and humans, Bahabur and his herd, guided by their mahouts, becomes a formidable barrier between wild elephants and trouble, literally saving the wild elephants’ lives.
Many elephants are killed as result of crop raiding–poisoned, shot, electrocuted, their mouths blown apart by bomb-laden food. These koonkis are the front line of protection for their brethren and the villagers whose encroachment and farming activity create such a dangerous situation for everyone involved.
Bahabur stood motionless, his right ear ripped in half, dangling painfully under its own weight. The cartilage was ripped apart at the top ridge of his ear. The flesh that covered the back of his ear was torn from the ear, creating a huge gaping pocket between the skin and cartilage. It was a seriously gruesome sight and no doubt painful.
The attack had happened eight to 12 hours before, after Bahabur, just coming into his annual musth season, had uprooted his tether tree and headed straight into trouble.
Mahouts tracked Bahabur and received no resistance when they instructed him to return home.
The expert mahout staff managed Bahabur while Drs. Bhupen Sarma and Anjan Talukdar assessed the injury. In a natural self-medicating fashion, Bahabur had packed the gaping wound with dirt, which needed to be removed before surgery could begin.
Without complaint Bahabur reclined in a half-sitting position, giving the veterinarians access to the wound. No one yelled, hit or in any way badgered Bahabur. Instead they spoke calmly and confidently, patiently waiting for Bahabur to respond to their commands and get comfortably situated.
In soft tones, treatment instructions were given. The wound was cleaned, flushed out with clean water and Betadine.
The veterinarians and mahouts worked seamlessly together, voices low as they repaired the half-severed ear of this full-grown bull elephant.
From time to time Bahabur needed to stand in order to readjust and, I believe, to distract himself from the pain. After a few seconds standing he would once again respond to the patient command given by his mahout to recline.
With only a local anesthetic to deaden the pain in the area to be sutured, Bahabur’s ear was expertly reconstructed; the torn cartilage stitched together with sutures and ripped flesh reconnected. The result was amazing.
Bahabur is a mesmerizing example of this highly evolved, profoundly intelligent species, who for so long has captured my respect and awe.
The annual monsoon season is nearly over. Asia is calling me back, once again.
These weeks home have flown by, filled with taking care of business and preparing for my return to Asia. This coming trip will be my fourth in two-and-a-half years.
Looking back over my work in Asia has given me a clearer perspective. Each visit built upon the one before, resulting in a firm foundation for elephant welfare programs.
At first I had no idea what I could accomplish, so I just went and investigated. The search led to discoveries, which resulted in an avalanche of ideas.
Filtering through all the possibilities, I decided to hone in on areas where I felt most confident. Providing services in a foreign country is challenging enough.
Doing what I know best has proven to be a wise decision. This is where the mantra “One world, one elephant at a time” got its foothold.
The idea of trying to save an entire world of suffering elephants is overwhelming, but helping one needy elephant at a time feels doable. The idea actually calms me. I know that we can help one and then another and then another after that.
The Sanctuary: one elephant at a time
With Tarra as my inspiration, this is exactly how the Sanctuary began. My initial goal was to create a safe and healthy place for her to live out her life, away from zoo and circus.
With Tarra safely in her sanctuary home, our focus turned to rescuing six solitary female Asian elephants living in zoos and circuses. And we did it—one elephant at a time.
First came Barbara,
an ex-circus elephant living alone in a Florida backyard.
Then came Jenny,
living alone in a dilapidated dog and cat shelter outside Las Vegas.
After Jenny was Shirley,
rescued from a solitary life at the Louisiana Purchase Garden and Zoo
then Bunny, darling of the Mesker Park Zoo
Sissy, from the El Paso Zoo
who had lived alone for two decades at the Frank Buck Zoo
and Tina, born at the Portland, Oregon zoo
living alone at the Vancouver Wild Animal Park.
All were elephants who had lived alone for decades. Each was rescued because we believed that we could help, one elephant at a time.
Starting again
Now I feel we have come full circle, back to the starting point. A huge challenge lies ahead of us with so many elephants in need. But instead of being overwhelmed, experience has taught me that focusing on one needy elephant at a time is doable. I know that we can help one and then another and then another after that.
As always, I will let Tarra inspire and guide me.
With that vision of possibility firmly planted in my mind, I understand how we now find ourselves—a short two-and-a-half years later after I first went to Asia—experiencing such fabulous results.
Focusing our efforts on our strengths has been incredibly well received by our colleagues in Asia. Working together has been the key. Together we are improving elephant welfare with foot care, mahout training, chain-free yards and our continuing efforts to develop elephant care centers and retirement homes.
The ideas for these projects were planted like so many tiny seeds and now they are growing like weeds. I need to get back to Asia and continue where we left off.
I am thrilled to announce that in my absence, requests have come for expansion of our programs. Yes, they want more chain-free yards, more pedicures, more mahout training and retirement centers for aging elephants. I am so excited about how our elephant welfare programs have caught on! The future is indeed bright.
Preparing For Pedicures
On my last visit to Nepal, 84 elephants received pedicures. The goal for my next visit is 100 elephants–400 feet! With that goal in mind I need to restock our foot trimming tools! Using disposable trimming blades ensures trimming accuracy and the highest level of hygiene; one package of two blades services one elephant. The easy-to-grip handles are perfect for precision but they wear out after a dozen or so elephants. The heavy duty farrier rasps are perfect for the job and the mahouts like this tool, but the rasp becomes dull after a short time.
I hope you will join in the excitement and help us purchase trimming blades, handles and nail filing rasps. I have posted a chipin to meet our goal of foot trimming supplies for 100 elephants. If you prefer to purchase the pedicure tools separately, please visit the EAI wish list.
To paraphrase a popular saying, helping one elephant won’t change the world. But helping one elephant will change the world for that elephant. This next trip to Asia promises to be incredibly beneficial for many more elephants, thanks to your continued support.
A HUGE THANK YOU to all who donated to the Foot Trimming Tools ChipIn. We reached our goal, in record time, all thanks to you!
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.
Developing sustainable assistance programs is essential. Live demonstrations, educational resources such as videos and manuals, translators and hands-on assistance are needed to improve mahout knowledge and understanding of new approaches to elephant care.
