Fly High, Pang Fai…. You were so loved.
Pang Fai was the elephant that everyone, and I mean, everyone, knew and loved. She was a complete sweetheart and her cheeky sense of humour, along with that sparkle in her eye, spring in her step and insatiable appetite, made her stand out from the crowd. Everyone here at BLES fondly referred to her as, ‘Superstar’, mostly because of her natural star quality, but also, because of her starring role in the Animal Planet documentary programme - Katherine’s Elephant Eden, that focussed on the rescue story of Pang Fai and her rehoming to BLES.
Pang Fai’s life as a captive elephant in Thailand was not all doom and gloom. Not a lot is known about her early years, but we do know that in her late twenties, she gave birth to a healthy male calf and that she reared him for almost three years, before he was sadly sold off in to the tourism industry, with no possible way to trace him.
Shortly after this, Pang Fai was also sold. She found herself being loaded on to a truck and making a bumpy journey to the quaint and rural little village of Baan Tuek, Sukhothai. It is in this village, along with 30-40 other elephants, that Pang Fai lived for the rest of her life. Her days were mostly spent walking through the forest, alongside her owner, Lune Noo, who came to fall deeply in love with Pang Fai. Occasionally, they would participate in logging work and annual parades, but the majority of her life with Lune Noo was laidback.
It was at one of the local parades that I first met Pang Fai, around 14 years ago. I was there to educate myself about the culture and to see, with my own eyes, the realities of rural captivity.
There must have been around twenty elephants in the parade, dressed in robes, some of them painted, all of them, hot and stressed…. As I discreetly memorised each elephant, my eyes carefully looking for any wounds or injuries that needed treatment, I noticed a smaller elephant, standing in the shade, with a man wiping her eye and talking to her. I watched them for a few minutes and then decided to approach them. The man greeted me with a big, friendly smile and we started talking instantly. My Thai was not particularly strong back in those days, but we were able to communicate somehow! I remember Pang Fai looking intently at me with her large chocolate coloured eyes, as if she was curious about me. Let’s be honest, I was a bit of a strange site - a young, white woman, wandering around on her own, talking Thai to the elephants, feeding the stray dogs, smiling at everyone - not exactly what you would expect to come across at a small temple festival!
As I looked up in to Pang Fai’s sweet face, I noticed her left eye was watering badly and that she was squinting, struggling to keep it open. Lune Noo, the owner, told me that she had poked her eye on a branch, several weeks prior. I asked him if he had contacted the vets and he replied that he didn’t know how to. He didn’t have a phone and even if he did, he wouldn’t know what number to call.
I rummaged around in my bag and pulled out my mobile and made a call to the hospital. They didn’t have any vets available to come out to Sukhothai and so I paid for a truck to drive Pang Fai to the hospital, where she stayed for a month, receiving medical care to her eye injury. The vets told Lune Noo that Pang Fai would have lost the vision in that eye completely, if it had gone untreated for much longer and that was the start of a beautiful friendship between Lune Noo, Pang Fai and me.
Over the years, during our daily walks with our rescued elephant family at BLES, we would often bump into Lune Noo and Pang Fai. We would always stop and chat and he would jokingly ask me when I was going to buy his elephant - I would smile and say that it wasn’t the right time, that Pang Fai didn’t need rescuing, as he took such good care of her…. We would laugh and carry on along the path, in opposite directions.
It was three and a half years ago that Lune Noo approached me and admitted that he was getting too old to give Pang Fai the proper care she needed. We both wiped away tears, as we sat on the ground, in the shade, just as we had all those years ago, and he told me story, after story of their adventures together and their ever-growing bond. I could see it was painfully hard for him to accept that the time had come for him to let her go. He wanted the best for her and despite being offered outrageous amounts of money from camp owners in Surin and Chiang Mai, Lune Noo knew in his heart that Pang Fai belonged with us, at BLES.
The following months were an intense test of my patience (!!), as Lune Noo went back and forth, changing his mind, struggling to let Pang Fai go… After some creative negotiating on my part, he gave me one of his winning smiles, shook my hand and just days later, we were walking side by side, with Pang Fai, from her old home, to BLES!
The children had prepared a giant welcome feast for our new arrival and Hope, Noah and Arron kept Pang Fai company the whole way, rewarding her with apples, oranges, sugar cubes and sweet words of encouragement, as we meandered along. Lune Noo never stopped smiling. He beamed at the children, hummed happy tunes and then proudly watched as Noah, who was eight years old at the time, remove the chain from Pang Fai’s foot. That was a powerful moment….
I quickly realised that Pang Fai had a soft spot for children. In many ways, she reminded me of sweet ‘Granny’ Thong Dee, who absolutely doted on the boys and left them utterly heartbroken when she passed very unexpectedly, the year before.
The following three years at BLES with Pang Fai were nothing short of joyous. She was a happy lady, who genuinely enjoyed the company of humans. (Please remember that not all elephants do seek the company of people and at BLES we allow the elephants to approach the humans, not the other way around).
She eased in to her daily routine of a morning shower, followed by handmade vitamin balls and then a leisurely stroll through the forest with our other elephants. Everyone fell trunk over tail in love with her and watching her, soak her tired old feet in the stream, dunk her whole body in the river, steam her way through the bushes and then disappear from site, eat everything within her impressive reach, was wonderful. Every single day was filled with magical moments as she beautifully and so simply, just spent her days, being an elephant - a very happy, contented, sweet, old, elephant.
Last month, we noticed that Pang Fai was slowing down and starting to lose weight. We kept an extra vigilant watch on her and made a point of buying extra treats for her whenever we went out to the market. To help keep her warm during the cold nights, her dedicated mahout, Boo Tien, would wrap her up in a specially made, padded coat and every evening, I would bring a basket of freshly chopped apples to her and we would slowly walk together, as the sun set.
Pang Fai was in her late sixties, possibly, very early seventies and so her visible decline in health, as saddening as it was, did not come as a surprise. We have been through this transition time with many of our elderly elephants and it is honestly, is the hardest part of what we do….
She stayed strong and oh so sweet, right until the end, only collapsing once, on the day she died. We found her lying on her side in the early hours of the morning. She was still wearing her coat and was trying hard to rise to her feet.
You will never, ever, hear me refer to myself as an elephant whisperer or communicator. I am just someone who loves elephants wholeheartedly and passionately. I do believe however, that almost twenty years of living with elephants, learning from them and their caregivers, has taught me to listen….. to understand when they want to keep fighting and to recognise when they are ready to let go and leave this world of injustice behind.
I am honoured to have been beside most of my elephants when they have passed. I have held on to them, their heavy trunks resting on my lap, feeling that final exhale, watching the glint slowly fade from their eyes, feeling the weight of their burdens lift and rise up towards the sun….
Every evening with Pang Fai, I twittered away, telling her how much she was loved, not just by us, but by thousands of people around the world. She was a household name, a legend, an absolute darling of an elephant and an ambassador for her species. Her story touched millions and raised awareness to the plight of her kind.
I was and still am, immensely proud to have called her my friend and will always be overwhelmed with gratitude for the many happy memories she gifted my family with.
My youngest son, Luke, who is five years old, held a very special place in his heart for ‘Granny’ Pang Fai. If elephants do indeed smile, Im sure she did, whenever she would see him running towards her. He loved sitting beside her, watching her eat and dust herself down. When Luke saw Pang Fai lying on her side, still and silent, his wide eyes filled with tears. He touched her gently on her head, with his tiny hands and then bent down and kissed her. He stroked her over and over again running his fingers through her bristly hair and whispered in her ear, “Pang Fai, don’t be scared. Tong Jai and the other elephants are waiting for you… Daddy will take good care of you now”….
We all watched him, allowing him to feel his emotions, but desperately trying to hide and hold on to ours and then he put his arm around me, kissed me on my head and whispered in to my ear, “I love you mum”
I could honestly write pages and pages about Pang Fai and the peace she emanated with her unique charm….
Her funeral was perfect. Lune Noo was of course there, along with all our mahouts, their families, Dr Bow from TECC, who had loved and treated Pang Fai for several years, my family and four headmonk’s from our local temples, lead us through a mediation, filled with offerings of healing energy for each other and of course, our beloved Pang Fai.
Once she was lowered in to the grave, we showered her in flower petals and as they gently settled on her sleeping body , I hoped she could somehow feel the love carried on the petals, from us, to her.
Thank you to you all for your messages of support during what has been an emotional time for my family. I hold you all in my heart, wishing you all good health, an abundance of happiness and to know, just as I believe Pang Fai did, that you are loved.
