Holiday In Cambodia: the Footsteps of Giants

Gibbon Lodge in Sen Monorom certainly does have a gibbon. Rescued from the illegal pet trade and given to the owner, she presides over the establishment as if she knew she appeared in the title. Discounting her long graceful limbs, Chital is barely larger than a human infant. With an outsized confidence and personality, she will plop herself onto the table in front of you and gently guide your hand towards whatever portion of her wooly anatomy she wants stroked with her slender pianist's fingers. Her favorites appear to be her belly and under her chin. Often she will insinuate herself into your lap and close her eye in apparent bliss as you tickle her armpit. Lest you think she is entirely cuddly dewy eyed innocence, she will at the first opening steal a handful of your food and scamper off with her splay footed cowboy shuffle. Her best friend and accomplice in mayhem is a small white puppy. The puppy and gibbon enjoy no holds barred roughhousing. She will grab the little dog by any limb she can and yank him several feet
 The two will collapse in a knot, the puppy trying to win his freedom with needle sharp teeth. Eventually they will disentangle and chase each other around, knocking over chairs and ducking under tables until the ape flings herself into the rafters, only to descend, seize an undefended tail and start the whole game over again. This is endlessly entertaining until the gibbon shelters in your lap, pulling at the puppy's legs as the puppy gnaws your ankles.

Having a gibbon around is basically like having a cat with twice the agility, three times the reach, five times the intelligence and half the respect for authority.

One of the reasons that I chose Cambodia over Thailand was that between the two countries, Cambodia has much more demonstrably  humane record in the treatment of elephants. There are two excellent programs in Mondulkiri Province that allow you to visit the beasts, both of which make it explicitly clear that you will not be riding the elephants. These animals are rescued and retired working animals. They are allowed to live their lives in a section of protected forest, pretty much at liberty except for a few social obligations. I read the mission statements, itineraries and testimonials with care and ultimately chose the one that promised less uphill hiking.

Mondulkiri Project is a small NGO run by the ethnic Bunong to preserve their way of life, their forests and, of course, the elephants. The importance of these small programs throughout the world cannot be overstated. It is always disheartening to go to the rainforested areas of the world and see just how little is left.

I swallowed the dregs of my coffee, extricated myself from the gibbon and caught my scheduled ride to the sanctuary. It seemed to me that a tuk tuk was a poor choice to handle the steep dirt roads that led to the valley, but the official conveyance turned out to be the bed of a pickup. On a deck with a distracting jungle vista. During the introductory lecture, I noticed that I was evidently the only person who read the part of the breif about proper jungle attire. I had opted for a button down shirt, lightweight khakis and hiking shoes. The other members of the party wore tee shirts, shorts and sandals. Sitting in the sun, listening to the talk and trying not to be distracted by bulbuls, I was beginning to regret this. Soon enough we were given a small bunch of bananas each and led down into the forest, where it was mercifully cooler. Our guide gave a call and two of the elephants emerged from the woods. We were supposed to introduce ourselves to five pachyderms via the medium of bananas and then walk through the jungle in the company of the the elephants. This is the problem with allowing animals to do largely as they please. It is great for the animals and puts them under no stress, however they won't necessarily behave the way you want. One of the elephants took one look at the group and clearly decided -bananas or not- she wanted nothing to do with us and retired from public life for the day.. The remaining four elephants we met were transparently more interested in being fed bananas by their adoring public and basking in the attention than leading any excursions. Even if we were not given full biographies of these marvelous creatures beforehand it would have been very easy to distinguish one from the others on personality alone. Sophie and Princess adored being doted on and presented their giant heads for scratches. They both really seemed to enjoy having their eyebrows rubbed (Princess would flap her ears in appreciation, periodically whacking her public in the face). Happy, after politely accepting some fruit was content to be admired from a distance. Comvine was obviously just in it for the bananas. Lucky was the one who had enough already. 

After lunch and a rest in one of the lodge's hammocks, we were instructed to change into swimwear, given more bananas and led down to an attractive stretch of river with a waterfall to reunite with our new friends. Standing waist deep in  a pool and holding a bunch of bananas, one couldn't help but feel slightly foolish. Barbs and rasps would swim up and nip off some dead skin from our legs and feet.  I may have done some silly things in life, I thought, but at least I had never actually paid for a fish massage. Some of those bites actually hurt. Three elephants arrived one by one with great ceremony. They dabbled in the water for a bit but each lost interest in turn when they realized that there were a finite number of bananas. It also became clear why the pool's bottom was so slippery when one of the elephants lifted her tail and made a fresh contribution.

To be near an animal as remarkable as an elephant is always an extraordinary experience, even though these particular elephants were as wild as cart horses. They were safe and content in their jungle where they would never be made to lift and carry again. Thanks to the Mondulkiri Project, they were free to simply be elephants and I had the good fortune to visit them.