Elephants and Water

"YuppieNomad? YuppieNomad!"

My adrenaline burst through my lungs, and I swallowed the brackish river water. My head swiveled, eyes blinking out the mud. Back, then sides, then front, treading. Our kayak had side-rammed into a rock, slid up the point, and flipped over. The Mekong clawed and wrapped us around its dark tentacles.

Shock, then fear.  Fear because the waters pulled me towards the rocks, rushing fast around the bend.  And because YuppieNomad can't swim.

These thoughts slammed against my brain: I should have been more careful by steering the kayak closer to the river banks. Laos' hospitals are shit. Please God don't let anything happen to her. We need to avoid the rocks. Pull her out, dumbass!

I saw her life jacket, then her mangled hair bobbing.  She called out and sputtered.  The waters rushed in her mouth, gleeful. The madness of fear and love, love and fear, sunk from my chest down to my feet.

The oars cruised by, indolent.  I grabbed the first, and my fingers slipped on the second. Then my sandals floated passed. Then her hat. Then our water bottle.  The kayak floated upside-down upstream, like a dead fish.

Five seconds, give or take.

This wasn't the first time today where we found ourselves in the Mekong.

Yuppienomad, Cartoon Girl and I woke at 6 am with our mahouts as part of a two-day stay in the jungle to learn about Asian elephants.  The previous day, we were introduced to the elephants - Ma-San, Ma-Klem and Ma-Sek.  We fed them, rode through the jungle with them, and learned from the mahouts their histories and their care. 

We also learned the commands to guide them: Left! Right! Stop! Come back! Left! No, no, right! Right! Right, dammit! Watch out for those thorns.

In the afternoon, we led them to an enclosure in the jungle, thick with vines, fronds and green, where they slept. We slept that night on wooden floors (to 'truly' experience how the mahouts lived) while the monsoon rain cascaded on the thatched roof.

The mahouts woke us at dawn, and we trekked again to bring the Ma's back to the camp. 

I saw them lumbered around the thick brush and laughed. We all laughed – it couldn't be help. The sight of three all-too-pleased elephants caked in grime and muck brings out the giggles in anyone. The Ma's had taken to roll (if you can imagine elephants rolling) in the soft earth brought from the night storm.  Their bald heads were mud-capped, their curved backs were brown from dirt, and their eyes glinted – like schoolboys who knowingly ran amok.

We were to bathe the elephants, the mahouts indicated.

We tut-tutted the elephants to the river bank – the mahouts dug their pointed iron shafts into the wrinkled hides to hurry them along.  Ma-San, our elephant, relished the wet leaves, branches and leaves, along the path for breakfast.  Her pillared legs were impervious to the mahouts' cries as her trunks smelled and ripped the vegetation apart... it seemed like this was their morning routine: the mahouts cajoled and pleaded with the elephants to take their baths, and the elephants good-naturedly dawdled on their way to the river.

It was like being in an elevator when Ma-Sen decided to dunk herself into the river.  There I was, peering over treetops, and moments later, I'm lowered (surprisingly smoothly), my thighs grasping Ma-San's hairy back, my calves below water.  Her trunk straightened and siphoned in water, like a straw.  Then it curled to her mouth, and the straw turned into a hose, spraying a bit of the Mekong into her pink tongue.

She was smiling. Elephants always look like they're smiling whenever they open their mouths, but Ma-San was happy.  Her tail twitched, her ears flapped like a drunk metronome, and her head swayed to some hidden tune.

Somehow, that image intervened inside my head when I saw YuppieNomad craning her head above the waters.

Shit.

I kicked my legs and windmilled my arms towards her orange life vest, floating down the river.  Somehow, with one hand gripping the oar, I managed to grab her around the waist and pulled her up, using my chest as an extra vest.

Stay with me, I urged.  Her face twisted. My gut wrenched.  Stay with me. It's ok. I have you. I have you. Ok?  Kick your legs. There you go, kick your legs. You're floating. Watch your mouth and the water. Ok. Watch out for the rocks --- we're ok.  Just going down the river 'til a calm stretch. We're good. You're good? Good.

I felt our breaths steadied.  We leaned our heads back to avoid the swarming waves. The waters, angry moments before, began to calm as the rocks retreated. The river banks were close, but not reachable with the strong currents. Minutes later, the guides paddled up – they had thought we were stuck in a prior rapid and had gone back to look for us... YuppieNomad heaved herself onto the kayak and I swam to shore...

Another pair of sandals lost.  This time, I didn't lose it in the jungle or a motor accident– I lost it in the river. My tally?  Four pairs of sandals lost in four months. YuppieNomad lost her hat – she had just bought it in China.  It seemed like we don't fare too well with accessory items.  A few scratches, a couple of bruises, and a cracked ego – the river had tested us and we somehow passed.

Riding elephants in the jungle & barreling through the Mekong – Laos is getting to be memorable.

glad you made it out ok! sad about the lost accessories. that alwasy sucks.

Posted by: jojo | July 05, 2006 at 03:00 PM

Tell Yupno to be careful! I'm going to buy her some swimming lessons!

Posted by: Sharon | July 05, 2006 at 11:45 PM

I know! I've lost so many flip flops and hats and sunglasses on this trip. Good thing they're easily replaceable.. can't say the same for the scratches I've gotten.

YupNo.. good above water.. we just have to get her to float =) But she was a trooper during the whole ordeal!

Posted by: j.fisher | July 09, 2006 at 08:00 AM