One of the most significant moments in my life came one afternoon about five months ago, when I was volunteering in an elephant sanctuary in Thailand.
I was tidying the park as part of my duties when I came across a beautiful, solitary elephant with a badly deformed front leg. Concerned as to why she was alone and curious about her physical health, I asked a guide.
Kabu was 26 years old, like me. She had been rescued about a year before but sadly never settled with a herd. She had been used for the illegal logging trade since infancy, pulling huge weights up and down steep mountain ravines.
During one of these tortuous journeys, a log came loose, rolled into her and badly broke her leg. Forced to continue working, her injury never healed. When Kabu was finally rescued she was weak and traumatised. When she arrived at the park she had tears rolling from her eyes – from relief, said the guide.
Wanting a photograph with her, I stood next to her, as I had done with the other elephants. I was not prepared for what happened next; Kabu mirrored my movement and leant into me. As she moved in closer, I could feel her sheer strength against my body.
This gave me a sense of safety and security, so I pressed against her further as if to hug her. Moving closer towards her head, I looked into her dark eyes for several moments, and rubbed the top of her trunk. As she looked back at me, I was amazed. Here was an animal who had gone through unspeakable horrors, yet was still willing to trust and give affection to a human.
And how had I ended up here? A few months earlier I had been sitting in therapy, wrestling with conflicting urges to harm myself or to help myself. After experiences of abuse in my childhood, I began self-harming before I was 13.
At this particular moment I was wrestling with hallucinations and beliefs that by hurting myself the disturbing images would go away. This time, however, I realised there could be another solution. I needed to do something life-changing, something that would take me out of my own head and into the world.
I didn’t initially know where to go. But after some research I found the Elephant Nature Park. Being a vegan and animal advocate, I felt it had the right ethos. While both my therapist and my wife were encouraging, they did have some concerns.
Would I be well enough to travel far away? Would I be able to stay safe if I encountered anything that triggered urges to self-harm? What if being in such an environment were disheartening as opposed to inspirational, as I hoped? Although I was giddy with excitement about my grand adventure, I had to admit that these were concerns I shared.
‘Elephants are highly sentient, evolved animals, who form lifelong relationships with their families.’ Photograph: Athit Perawongmetha/Reuters
My first elephant encounter was in fact rather unexpected; a sneaky trunk peeking around from the back of the kitchen, curious to identify any chopped up pieces of fruit ready for eating. I instantly knew that this was going to be a wonderful fortnight.
The volunteering itself focuses on providing care for the elephants such as bathing, food preparation (I have seen enough watermelons to last a lifetime), and accompanying them to the vets. Volunteers also look after the park; scooping poop (there is a proper technique to this; shovel from the back of the pile, lift up from the centre) tidying shelters and planting trees.
