Combined success stories: rescuing elephants from a life of street walking and people from drug addiction, the Golden Triangle reveals its latest quixotic changes.
Rising up from the nearby banks of the Mekong River, a modern monolith emerges from surrounding forest. Marble and concrete, bunker-ish and austerely graceful, resembling any number of museums scattered around the world. Yet, its location is certainly off the beaten track, as far north in Thailand as it’s possible to go. Burma and Laos are literally within easy view. Former Alaskan Governor and Vice-Presidential candidate Sarah Palin could say truthfully, ‘I can see Burma and Laos from my house.’ Strange place for a museum you ask?
Welcome to the Hall of Opium, a project begun in 1994 by HRH Princess Srinagarindra, the late Princess Mother of His Majesty the King of Thailand. Devoted to all things narcotic; it’s a museum filled with intelligently designed exhibits pertaining to drugs from around the world, though the emphasis here is on opium. After all, we’re smack dab in the middle of the fabled Golden Triangle.
In 1988, 88 years old and quite frail, the Princess Mother declared that she would devote the remainder of her life to restoring the region to its historic position as one of the country’s most agriculturally and culturally rich. Her work fixed on reforesting the denuded hillsides, ridding the destitute population from the evils of opium poppy production and securing productive employment for all inhabitants. Not bad for a feisty lady near the end of a long life. She died in 1995, as old as the century but she achieved the goals she set out in 1988. The video clip shown in the main theatre as part of the museum’s introduction includes a long shot of the Princess Mother’s helicopter descending from a bright sky, settling onto a bare patch of earth. She emerges from the cabin, a tiny hand resting on a loyal retainer’s arm. Facing the camera with sagaciously passionate eyes, she announces that she will commit her remaining energy to saving the people from poverty and corruption. It’s like watching an angel coming down from heaven.
Prior to the Princess Mother’s involvement, the region was off limits to travellers. Kidnapping, robbery, banditry; they were all serious deterrents to any visitor. Even the Thai police force had given up taming this lawless corner in the north. A local warlord ran the province like a private fiefdom, extorting farmers to grow more poppies, paying them a pittance, harassing them when they didn’t toe the line. Murders and rape were common crimes.
Now it’s a changed landscape. The greening project has worked. The Royal Family’s agricultural project focussed on encouraging Arabica coffee bean and cashew nut plantations as well as numerous other safe cash crops such as organic vegetable production. Schools have reopened as have health clinics. Ethnically diverse hill tribes occupy their loftily situated villages with peaceful impunity. From a mess of intrigue and danger, the region has become one of tranquillity and fecundity. The Princess Mother’s reforestation project has succeeded. Formerly barren slopes are once again vegetated, erosion problems mostly solved.
Key to reminding travellers in the region how important this change has been is the Hall of Opium, the locus of the Golden Triangle Park. The museum successfully provides visitors with a balanced overview of the history of drug addiction and drug production. From the beginnings of mankind’s fascination with hallucinatory drugs such as mushrooms, once used by shamans to obtain a trance state in order to forecast events, to the current domination of cheap mass produced drugs such as crystal methamphetamine, ‘ice’, the museum’s clearly detailed exhibits cover the drug gamut. From the Opium Wars between Britain and China to contemporary cocaine production in Colombia, from deceptively addictive medical marvels such as morphine, to the overall effects of drugs and efforts to curb global drug use, it’s all here, simply presented. Though the educational emphasis is placed on detrimental effects of drug use, it’s done with a lightly edifying touch, not patronising but with compassion and tact.
A brief walk across the road from the Hall of Opium reveals the Anantara Resort Golden Triangle and Asian Elephant Foundation Camp. If you’re considering becoming a professional mahout, this is as good a place as any in which to explore a possible career change.
The camp operates as an elephant sanctuary, a home for rescued elephants and their families. Rather than simply buying the elephants from indigent mahouts, the hotel management team purchases the entire kit and caboodle: elephant, mahout, his wife (mahout work in Thailand is universally male dominated) and family. Though it may look as if humans as well as the elephants are up for sale, it’s not the case. Were the elephant bought from the mahout, he would buy another elephant from a dealer, likely illegally sourced from the wild population in either Laos or Burma where the species is under serious threat. They’d both soon be on the road again begging for money from tourists keen to exchange 50 baht for a photo but who wouldn’t know a suffering elephant from an imitation Gucci bag.
Touting for treats, Thai street elephants lead lives of appalling squalor, suffering from hearing loss due to traffic noise, impaired vision due to dust and terrible malnutrition, among other chronic ailments. Their owners live similar lives, marginalised from society and in a penurious state, paying off corrupt police to stay on the road and living literally hand-to-mouth. It’s a bleak situation for both man and animal.
Stepping in as rescuers, the Asian Elephant Foundation Camp based at Anantara Resort Golden Triangle operates with scant resources, relying on guests’ donations and charity events such as the annual Elephant Polo match in Hua Hin to keep the project going. The hotel management, elephants and mahout families work together, offering guests a variety of mahout classes and lessons in elephant human interaction, all coordinated by an expert team.
The mahouts work with healthy well-cared for animals in a safe environment. Coincidentally, their wives have organised a cooperative silk weaving industry and are making more money than their husbands, much to their delight. I witnessed a merry atmosphere during a visit to their small shop and factory at the camp. The fabrics aren’t cheap but they’re selling well, hence the satisfied looks. The families live in clean though simple wooden houses, their kids go to school. Food is plentiful and nutritious. Modern sanitation, medical clinics, recreation activities and shared interests, they’re all here. It’s as if an elephant and mahout Utopia found itself a perfect place in which to thrive.
In a part of the world where success stories are few and far between, this is one sure thing. The elephants live contentedly, well fed and busy. Though they will never be returned to the wild, their lives are far better than they would be on the street. The same goes for the mahouts. Instead of relentless daily problems faced in a continual search for food and money, they live peacefully among the animals they love. And it is love. The bond between mahout and elephant is a very strong one. Once, they shared victimisation. Now they share a modest bounty. Watching the two species working together is humbling. The elephants could easily crush their co-workers. Instead they permit the mahouts to become close; it’s an intimate relationship between men and animal that is rarely observed in our modern world.
Adolescent elephant joins guests for breakfast at Anantara Golden Triangle resort.
As a visitor, you can interact as much as your boundaries permit. During the classes in elephant handling, the mahouts are with you every moment, correcting missteps, yours and the elephants. You’re given a beginner’s dictionary of elephant mahout speak, a mix of Thai, northern Thai and elephant languages, itself an intriguing combination of vocal commands and body movements.
My elephant, Bhoona, is a 32 year old matriarch, a gentle lady whose sheer bulk belies her dainty foot movements. Handing small bananas to her trunk while I balance on her neck, she shoves several at once into her mouth and devours them with relish, walking at the same time, a feat many humans find difficult to replicate strolling down a city street whilst chewing gum. I guide her forward along a muddy path as we head across country for an afternoon bath with some of her fellow elephants like a party of adolescents and adults all out for a jolly piscine excursion. ‘Pai, Bhoona, pai,’ I repeatedly urge, my bare feet tickling her ears. Forward, Bhoona, forward. ‘How, Bhoona!’ Stop Bhoona, I say, gently squeezing my thighs around her neck as we outpace the mahout walking alongside. Once in the water, I try, ‘Dum Lung, Bhoona.’ Submerge your head in water Bhoona. She does. I swim above her, dodging dung floating past while Bhoona disappears completely into the murky depths. Paddling in a tight circle somewhere above my submerged elephant, I keep my eyes on her flatulent companions. How long can an elephant hold her breath? Long enough for the dung balls to come very close is how long. I’m reminded of swimming at Bondi beach before the sewage outfall pipe began operating. Two minutes? A blast of water erupts from a grey trunk. It looks like a prehistoric periscope. I aim for Bhoona’s gigantic bulk while it rises up underneath me. I straddle her neck again as she rights herself, a sensation akin to negotiating an escalator during an earthquake. I’m entirely at her mercy. We’re both soaking wet. We’ve had a bath together, a peculiarly intimate experience. Now, I really need a shower with lots of soap and to wash my muddy dung smeared clothes. Bhoona snorts and reaches for more bananas while we walk back to the camp, but I’ve run out, the remaining fruit floated away. I haven’t learned how to say, ‘Yes, we have no bananas,’ in Thai-elephant-ese but I figure that Bhoona knows that already. She’s one smart elephant.
Naked Facts:
The Hall of Opium Golden Triangle Park is approximately 60 kilometres north of Chiang Rai’s airport. Open from 8:30 to 16:00 Tuesday to Sunday. Entry fees: BHT 300 for foreign visitors.
Ph: 66 (0) 5378 4444-6
See www.maefahluang.org for further details.
Anantara Resort Golden Triangle
229 Moo 1 Chiang Saen, Chiang Rai, 57150 Thailand
Ph: 66 (0) 5378 4084
Email: infogt@anantara.com
Reservations: 66 (0) 2477 0760
Info: www.anantara.com
The four day Mahout Discovery Package starts from THB 10,850 per person per night for a single room and includes breakfast, mahout training and entry to the Hall of Opium.
Getting there:
Thai Airways has the best connections to Chiang Rai from its hub in Bangkok. Domestic connections to Chiang Rai airport operate daily. See www.thaiairways.com