the intelligence of elephants

i was in nepal, and it was a hard trip. i was losing my mind. on a edge that was getting harder & harder not to just implode & nothing i could do about it. so i hunkered down, stopped talking about it, stopped thinking about it as much as possible & lived day to day. hunkered down in the bunker of my mind. it was right after ‘american white girl good for ransom’.

my nepalese tour guide- bimal took me to the jungle. the first sign that we were getting there was a view over some gently rolling hills out of the car window of tree canopy for as far as the eye could see. it took me by surprise because it kind of came out of nowhere. i found out later that the tribal people that lived in the area for generations kept the jungle trimmed from this side by elephant for planting crops. lived in harmony with the edge of the jungle. as dangerous as i found all of nepal, as violent, this was the most like mother nature’s violence. this was not human nonsensical violence. wanting something that didn’t belong to you. this was the danger that hunted by night, the murky thing that lurked by the river, the slip of a sawblade. this was hunting to eat. a knife, 99 times out of 100, cutting fields of grain. animals used for labor were also part of the family. literally elephants lived and interacted better than the best dog a master ever had in the family home- better than that! mates that go out to work with their partners, retired with respect, their children raised with them & their family to pass on their work. a natural symbiotic relationship on many levels, in many facets. anybody was welcome to come witness, participate & walk among these people. they asked nothing in return! we were even welcome to come sit in the circle around the fire for the tribal dances. this tickled me to my very toes.

bimal picks the last hotel. there is nothing between, not just our hotel, but our room & the river, except the tiki bar. the river crossing is an actual stone’s throw from our room. first floor was all that was available. the hotel was shaped like a ‘L’. we were at the lower left of the corner. so was the jungle. the only door was a screen door & it had duct tape in the shape of a ‘L’. manager says it’s fixed! that was from the crocodile, but it’s fixed! took me a minute to get my hysterical madness under control. no. NO! just, no. second floor. bimal is giving me a sad look i just don’t understand. my pointer finger comes out & i start into that manager while bimal is translating for me as fast as he can. manager is shuffling in his shoes. he assures me that the whole second floor is taken. yeah, i’ll bet it is. look at this mess. there’s no other exit from this room. there’s a high, small window in the bathroom that couldn’t fit a four year old. no. just, no. i make him take us up to the second floor & knock on each door. at least look into each room & to my satisfaction, make sure that they are all taken. i tell bimal i want a different hotel. i don’t care if i room with the elephants. he tells me this is the busy season & he booked this in advance, thinking that this would thrill me. now my heart sinks. i didn’t realize. OK. what can i do? i apologize to the manager. this trip has been difficult, i’m very stressed, my business back home, the situation back home, the situation in this country -9/11, the royal family having been massacred & the countries devolving into chaos. please, i’m very sorry. i just need some nice weather & a vacation from my vacation. i’m very sorry to be a bother. i need a drink. namaste.

seems to do the trick. he’s very happy to show me back to my room. point out the tiki bar that has a 80’s boom box playing a running loop of bob marley’s greatest hits. has malibu rum & coke. well, i’m sold. only place in all of nepal that had malibu rum. don’t know why it thrilled me so, but it did. bimal can deal with the rest, i’m sitting at the bar. i don’t know how much malibu i went through while we were there, much less coke, but in my mind, it was the bob marley that set my mind right. and the elephant. though, one would think, after rocky 3 & rocky 4 on a running loop, i’d never want a repeating repeating repeat. didn’t bother me in the least. pass the dutchie on the left hand side. there was a little of that, too.

that night i gave bimal a solid slice of payback. -you put me at risk, asshole, now you’re gonna protect me. with your body, with your life, if you have to. you are sleeping by that door. on the floor. a gator comes through that door, you are dinner first. gives me time. maybe he’ll be full by then. bimal looked at me with shock for the first minute. young enough to ask if i was serious. -yes i am! i gave him a pillow & a sheet. it’s always a tile floor, too. he owed me. he took it, too, without complaint. such a sweet thing.

i sat at that bar for the better part of a few days. doing a few things in the morning, but mostly drinking slowly, watching the people & animals crossing the river. sometimes moving a little up or downstream. ask a local why & get a eye opening answer. river monsters get bold enough when there isn’t enough people to scare them away & they’ll lie in wait. sometimes take a goat, a child, even a man, or each other. anything they can. the animals have a sense & the people are on a constant look out, so the movement is fluid, especially at the edges. jeez. chewed on that & stayed to the shallows when i walked the banks. add to that you could hear the wild beasts that rumble & roar at any given hour just over the river. no one seemed bothered by any of it, or looked around. i did. i’d take my drink for a walk along the river to scan the jungle. hell, i was in the jungle. no wonder i drank slow & long. a whole different ecosystem. the feeling of God moving across the Face of the Deep in a way i didn’t understand until i understood.

bimal set up a elephant ride into the deeper jungle. those hand built seats you have to climb into. camera going, a small group of people, a few native people guiding you to areas where you may see something neat. well, we did. a rhino that wasn’t happy to see us. couldn’t get pictures of everything with my elephant trying to get the hell out of the way, but it was cool. tiger somewhere close by. that low rumble that still sends chills up my spine to recall it. my elephant brought the tip of her nose to hold my hand when we got out of it & i got down. i think it comforted both of us. she wrapped me with her trunk close to her face & i got a hug i’d never had before. eye to eye. it made me cry, she was so beautiful.

i’ve always loved animals. i’ll put a tarantula in my hand, but i won’t necessarily go kissing it. the cooler thing is most animals have always taken to me, too. it’s easy to know you’d love elephants. what you can’t imagine is that they would love you so easily. and thoroughly. so, of course, one day, i’m sitting at the bar after i had taken a walk through the town. i had tried, as usual, to get on the internet in a cafe, 19 times out of 20 unsuccessfully. no electricity. i walked through the bookstores. read a three week old time magazine or newspaper. anthrax in america. god! i can't even make a call home to see if my child is ok. what's going on back home? it's the wild west over here. so, i go to see what there was to see. sat at the bar & had a malibu & coke. bimal comes up to me & tells me he has something special for me. please to come. so i was pleased to come.

to the river. the dangerous, dangerous river. my camera with me. the sight i’m starting to think he wants me to see makes my heart skip a beat. looks like mowgli & one of his friends washing themselves down by the riverside. the boy tells me to come close. at some point soon i hand off my camera to bimal & come close. the boy & his girl are playing in the water & she reaches out with her trunk & grabs my hand. pulls me close. the boy is talking to me, but i have no clue what he is saying. i mean, i know he’s asking me just by knowing what i’d be asking. do i like? -yes, of course. do i want to wash her? - yes, of course. stuff like that. i tell bimal i have a thousand questions. please ask this young man if i can ask them. if he will translate. he tells me the language he speaks & the language this boy speaks is different enough that it won’t be so easy, but he will try.

i’m already rubbing on his girl & she flops down in the water & then shimmies in. what a wave that created! clifford the big red dog digging in a mud puddle. we all got some. funny, i never even wondered if the camera survived it. she lifts her leg & all’s i see is a very, very, very big dog wanting a tummy rub. the boy goes in & rubs & slaps her tummy just like i would one of my boys. i was still a bit hesitant because of her size. i was wondering if i was going to get crushed. just her laying down still had me getting mud out of my eyes, but i was laughing. enjoying myself to no end. i was asking questions faster than bimal could translate, so i slowed down. the boy was answering. enjoying himself to no end.

yes, she has a yard out back of the house, but she likes to come in the kitchen when his mom is cooking her favorite curry. she’ll steal a taste. a taste can be the whole dish, if mom isn’t careful! her father was his father’s mate for working in the fields & her child would be his child’s mate. it’s been that way for all time. -wait, i said. -ask him to explain what he means by ‘mate’. does he mean ‘pet’ or ‘work animal’? bimal & the boy went back & forth a bit. no, bimal knew he was right before. he had explained this to me before & we had heard this around their campfire & dances. these animals are not subservient to them. sometimes a man treats his mate badly, but that happens. they believe as they always have. these animals have spirit & soul. just because they don’t speak the same language back doesn't mean they don’t have language. doesn't mean they don’t have intelligence- in fact they do. doesn't mean they are less. they work with them hand in hand. they mean it.

i got it. this wasn't ‘american speak’. this wasn't bimal saying this to me. he wouldn't be rude, even if he did say something like that, he’d be explaining the best he could. it still floored me. the boy said something & bimal said to look at the girl’s eyes. got me smiling. she was looking at me. so i stopped talking & went right up to her face & looked in her eyes. scratched behind her ears, stroked her neck. the boy said something & she wrapped her trunk around me & dunked me! as she got up, she took me right with her. she was gentle, but she had complete control. she stood up & dunked me again. she pulled me right up to her face, i guess to see how i was doing. i couldn't help but be in hysterics. she dunked me one more time, then put me on top of her. well, i had no more mud on me. i wanted her to do it again!

i asked how many words she understands? a couple hundred? a thousand? the boy said she understands everything he says. she’ll retreat to the corner of the yard & hide her head behind a tree if she eats all the curry. she knows when she’s in trouble. his father knocked down the boy’s wall when he was a baby so they could sleep together. there is often a room in the house that the elephant has free access to be with their family. sometimes they just need the comfort of their humans, sometimes they don’t. for working there’s about 300 commands. there’s a series of clicks, calls & foot commands for work, but any other time, you can just talk to her. he also understands her moods & a lot of her ‘sign language’ that the tribe developed as a universal language to teach the elephants to speak to them.

i loved the way that was put to me. a way to teach the elephants to speak to them. it was humane in it's wording.

i asked if i could talk to her. through bimal, he asked me if i hadn’t been? he laughed at me. he had been laughing at me. i figured him for about 15. i'm sure he had run across foreigners before. still, in his young way, he was a teacher & so was his girl. he showed me a few things to get her go deeper into the water, to turn around, & a few other things. he tricked me again. he had me do whatever made her fill her trunk & spray myself. the boy & bimal were in hysterics. the girl & i were, too. her snout kept seeking out my ears, like she couldn't understand what i could possibly do with these. she loved my new nose ring, too. in nepal, the placement of the nose ring was significant. i had no clue i was even getting a nose ring (thought i was getting a second row of ear piercings from a man that didn't speak english. he used a earring gun, too. felt like getting hit with a baseball bat!). apparently, my placement is the same placement as this tribe. they were all amazed a white girl showed up as one of their own! apparently the elephant thought so, too. she kept touching the nose ring, gently & giving me her hand to hold. soft, mushy thing with a few long, bristly hairs that kept massaging my hand. she was the most beautiful elephant in the whole wide world.

i went back to my room & cried. i think the stress of this trip & my broken back & what was going on back home & with my business & not being able to get in touch with my daughter & all that brought me to this point was catching up to me. something about this wonderful experience just opened me up. how much did my little life & it’s problems matter when billions have theirs, too? deal with it. stop stressing & just take it one problem at a time. enjoy this beautiful shit. i wanted to bathe with her again. everyday. i didn’t know how much longer i would be in the jungle, but i wanted another swipe at it, but i didn’t want to push bimal’s generosity. i couldn’t imagine what this was costing, or who it was costing. room & board was supposed to be covered by my business partner, who i had rarely seen since landing. bimal was his cousin. i had spent my last $50 covering the costs of a major accident of perfect strangers. i couldn’t even relay a message back home. the last i heard, my newly hired manager had fucked up royally, panicked & shut the business down. couldn’t reach anyone. the relay time overseas confused my mother, so getting ahold of my daughter happened like twice while i was in nepal. all this started to come in perspective. i knew it would somehow work itself out. namaste was starting to mean something in this american mind.

i didn’t see bimal again until it was getting close to dark. i was still in my room. i was ready to make love & for the first time he had other plans. i even tried pulling him into the shower- a favorite place. hard for him to resist. he told me he had another treat for me. he always spoke in candy language. so i take his hand & he leads me past the tourist area into the real village. i had ventured there by myself usually after my afternoon nap. go see what kind of trouble i can get into. pantomime will get you far, especially with a smile & laugh, share a smoke, have a cup of tea & be willing to get 30-50% of what you were hoping to understand & understand something else you didn’t think to ask. just keep your eyes open, too. this is part of the explosive joy of travel.

people milling around. yes, elephants too. bimal seems to find whatever he was looking for. i was just enjoying holding his hand & taking a walk. he leads me up to two elephants facing each other. it took awhile for me to see that same boy wedged between them far back. kind of in a dangerous place. could have been smooched. wouldn’t of, i finally understand. he waved & sat back down on his haunches, smoking a cigarette. bimal leads me by the hand to the one elephant & tells me this is the girl’s father. the other one is his brother. they are just hanging out. bimal goes & hangs out with the boy. my jaw drops.

all the sudden i feel like that 6 year old running into my grandfather- little pop- he’s hanging out at the corner & i’m out running an errand. he’s standing with his brother, uncle john. they got the sports section out, arguing over their system. they are handicapping. odds for & odds against, jockeys, this horse, that horse, you know.

the girl’s father- pop- reaches out & feels my nose. it’s the nose ring again. funny, but no surprise. even the villagers do it & laugh. he takes my hand & brings me close to him & his brother. his brother, the pickpocket, was not subtle & apparently liked the female form, a lot. i had to ask for a little help, as we were in public. (there is this type in every species.) he was gentle, but damn! once he got chastised, he chilled out.

pop starts with a foot stomp & some ear stuff. something going on between the two of them. just like little pop & uncle john trying to teach me about the horses. teaching me their systems. telling me about their horses running that day & why they think i ought to bet their bet. would’i lay $5 on dis horse or dat one? like i got money! whadd’a i think? whom’i gonna vote fo’? they should’a known bett’a! little pop always got my vote. why? uncle john always wanted to know, dejected. paper folded under his arm, hands deep in his pockets, turning this way & that. just like these two old brothers. it always came down to the few same reasons- little pop’s tomatoes, corn & beans. i helped plant, water, care & harvest them. even sweep the walk. i helped him wash & wax that 76’ custom nova that he took to pimlico every monday to play his $20. he taught me, so i gotta give his system a try first.

these two old men standing in front of me were obviously having some same kind of long running childhood feud. pop was having his last word & asking for my opinion. my vote. uncle steps forward & rubs the bridge of his nose on me. wraps his trunk up under my ass. not the way to get my vote. until he lifts me, just a little bit. it was a seat & he leaned me forward so i could hug the bridge of his nose if i felt unsteady! this was the way to get my vote! pop was petting my the back of my head & ears & back. aw, this was hard-ball! they were playing dirty, now. really playing on a girl’s sensitive side. who to side with? it’s a draw. they both get kisses & hugs, cooing & cuddling & sweet talk.

the boy takes us all home to have dinner. what a invite! bimal easily accepts for us. pop follows, holding my hand. he took to sniffing my ear, so i needed a towel soon anyway. uncle got called home & let out a moan, but gave me a nudge goodbye. almost didn’t survive it. it was hard to say goodbye to such a bad old flirt.

the boy showed off his home. the yard had a high fence that could be easily pushed over by the elephants. straw strewn over the dirt. there were two rooms with the wall tore down for the elephants to have a share of the house. one of those rooms joined the dining room & had a large opening, like a open window kind of thing, so the elephants could share in the treats at dinner time. the boy showed me his room where his girl would come sleep with him. she still did. he had her lay down in her usual spot & show me just how they lay these days. it was too cute. and it’s a wonder she didn’t knock down another wall. oh, i didn’t have my camera with me! still, some moments are meant just to be savored as they are.

his mother was proud to invite me into the kitchen. the woman’s domain, i love this part so much about travel & being a woman, i’d never wish to be a man. a man could never experience what we experience in the same way so easily. food, cooking & eating transcends the language barrier. especially cooking. anywhere i go, even in america, being invited into the kitchen & learning what, how & when needs very few words if they are unavailable, and still it conveys so much information. i’m grateful for the abundance of laughter, effort, skill & willingness all these people give. not just to me, but to the tradition that seems universal across culture & time. and the boy was right. take your eyes off the girl & she will inhale that curry at the first opportunity. mom shooed her away with the flap of a hand & some patient, kind, oft-repeated words. before the girl went away she tried coming in the door, like she was trying to get me to ‘com’meer!’ she had something she wanted to tell me away from mom. this whole day was blowing my mind, so i went over. she was flapping her ears & drew a foot back a time or two as if to tell me to see for myself if that isn’t the best curry i’ve ever tasted & please make sure to save her some for dinner tonight. sit by the window & put the dish next to me. they’ll let her eat it right there, if i do it, since i’m the guest. they can refuse me nothing, ok? ok? will i do that? she nudges me a time or two to check & see if i understood her & i tell her ok. i love her up a good amount & assure her we’ll both get curry, i’ll do my best. i promise. she squeezes my hand & puts it in her mouth for a little bitty taste & she goes away, trusting me to do my best, which i do.

dinner was set up just as the girl had asked me, except i sat directly across from the window. they wanted me to have a good view of the girl & her father snacking. two Ganeshas quietly taking whatever was handed to them. the table was so close to the window that wherever i placed the curry she could have it. i guess i wasn't subtle. i was at the end of the table, next to the father. he knew what i was doing. laughing at me, as full of joy as his son. he let the girl finally have her curry about halfway through dinner, just about when she was going to have a conniption. he enjoyed the suspense as much as my father enjoyed making us wait for him to have a cup of coffee before us kids were allowed to come down for Christmas morning.

the family had many questions for me. i am used to being asked questions about america. although, i don’t think they had any about politics or what was going on. they wanted to know about my family & community. they couldn’t understand that i could be this young & be divorced & my ex-husband & his family was in no way in my life or my daughter’s life. they really didn’t understand that i didn’t live in a place without such fierce animals or without so many trees or a running river within walking distance. that my family or community were not farmers. yes, they had heard of a city, but i don’t think they really understood what one was, or had ever been to one, much less ever left their village, except to transport goods for trade a village or two down the river. i explained that i had lived half my life in the country & half in the city. my family had moved out to the country when i was a teenager, so this made no sense to them at all. what do my father do for work? steelworker. yes, they understood steel. they have tools & such, but they didn’t have tractors. they saw plenty of cars, but they didn’t have them, so they wondered, when my father was done making his steel, when did he farm? and if he didn’t farm & if my community didn’t farm, then where did we get our food? i don’t know how much was translated well. bimal had warned me his dialect & theirs was very different. i don’t think it was a language barrier. i think it was never having seen the difference. the cultural barrier. the mother was fascinated, but the father kept rubbing his head.

we got on the subject of the elephants as dessert & tea came around. this was where pop, the elephant really perked up. the mother started rolling some khat. (khat is a natural plant, like chewing tobacco, a stimulant. like having a double shot of espresso. stains your teeth red.) i had tried it before & i expressed a interest in trying it again, so she passed me some & kept rolling it in the leaves. pop started picking it up. he set me down another piece after he took a few & rolled them around in his mouth. again, i was floored! pop chews khat? oh, yes. he loves it. pop passes me another chaw. the boy said he remembers being stained red by pop’s drool as some of his first memories. well, that really tickled me. pop knows how to chaw it? yep. and pop passes me another chaw. way, way too much for me. probably not enough for him. what about your girl? naw, she’s just a fat thing. just a curry addict. she likes the heat of the curry. she’ll eat chilis. too many if you let her. pop passes me the basket of khat & we all giggle. i have to give it back to the mom after trying to roll it. i’m not so good at it. he keeps trying to feed it to me. i asked what the boy meant by too many chillies, thinking i already knew the answer. he made a hand gesture & had a sly smile that told me bathroom problems no one wanted to deal with. ah, too many chilis. yep. i had already known the answer.