Encountering elephants

by Marco Monteiro-Silva, 1 November 2006

Just outside of Johannesburg, Maria turns down the music. "Well, there's only one way to find out," she says, staring out the passenger window. It's nine on a Saturday morning and against better judgement, perhaps because I've missed out on my morning coffee, I double our wager.

Risky business

We arrive at the sanctuary just before ten. A large clearing spreads from a raised wooden deck, pushing against the base of the wild Magaliesburg hills. To my relief there's complimentary coffee, tea, and biscuits before we venture off for two and a half hours.

As I sit down with a much needed hot mug in hand and chunky raisin rusk firmly between my teeth, a guide introduces himself to the 15 visitors scattered sleepily at various tables on the deck.

T.P is our guide for the day, and silhouetted against the African bush, with elephants lumbering in the near distance, he too enjoys his morning cup of coffee as he gives us an introduction to the Elephant Sanctuary.

Meet and feed

Our first stop is a tour of the sleeping quarters, where T.P offers an example of just how powerful the resident elephants are. At his request, four of us attempt to move a massive iron gate; we can't even manage the slightest creak or budge. Every night, with all the elephants safely tucked in, one elephant will strike the gate shut with their trunk. "One punch," T.P says, "is all it takes."

Heavy on the humour

Inside one of the pens, we're introduced to the first of the six elephants currently at the sanctuary. T.P thinks this is a good time to mention that elephants can sustain speeds of forty to fifty kilometers per hour for large distances.

The first to go is a little frightened, but eventually each member of the group walks up to the small tin bucket, scoops up some food, and steps towards the hungry African elephant. He takes the food gently, and each person slowly retreats with a nervous grin.

My first interaction with this particular elephant is a little less amiable. Hanging off from the group, focused on fighting with my stubborn camera, I'm blindsided by bits of dirt and food. Our new friend it seems, is eager to start a food fight. It's at this point that T.P mentions that elephants are extremely social animals.

I can't help but feel that, for the next few hours, I am very much at the mercy of a three ton sense of humour.

Poachers and PMS

As we gather around a grainy white elephant skull, TP mentions that the female elephant lurking behind us, on the perimeter of her enclosure, is pre-menstrual. Even though we're separated by a steel boundary fence we are warned to stay out of reach. "Sometimes a woman just needs some space," he says.

Being educated on the anatomy of an elephant skull while a PMS'ing African elephant skulks behind me brings a smile to my face. I'm wrapped in the feeling that whatever it is I'm busy experiencing is something real, and funny, and honest.

People heave a massive elephant jaw bone to one another while T.P illustrates everything from teething, to exactly how it is that poachers, armed with guns and chainsaws, go about splitting these intricate skulls in search of long clean tusk.

The forest

After the brief outlining of some rules, the group is guided down a winding path and into forest. The clearing is small, and in the cool quiet we meekly gather on two wooden benches. Facing us, are three unrestrained African elephants and their handlers.

We are less prepared for the encounter than our hosts, and the distinct memory of my first day of school surfaces. It seems fitting then, that the largest of the three is called Khumba (from the Xhosa Khumbula meaning "remembering"). Khumba is fifteen years old, weighs almost three thousand kilos, and is making a deep rumbling noise which is beginning to seriously unnerve me.

T.P's arms stiffen against his sides. I watch him grimace with eyes shut tight; I feel my organs unravel, twist, then tighten inside my stomach as the remaining elephants join in Khumba's deep bellied sonic growl.

"That's why they call it the rumble in the jungle," he says, opening his eyes and relaxing his jaw into a smile, explaining to the slightly unhinged group that the elephants are simply communicating with those back at the pens.

It's at this point that I realize how much T.P loves his job.

First Kisses and Warm Slurpees

Three volunteers are required, and instructions on how to touch an elephant are given ('be firm and slow', 'they have a specific side you work on'). I'm introduced to five-year old Themba. Even though she's a baby, and I've been on this earth five times longer than she has, I'm a little weak at the knees as I stroke her. I move along her left side, from trunk, to ear, to backside. To my surprise the padding under her foot is both taut and soft.

I'm told to place my hand in Themba's mouth and I run my shaking palm along her tongue - a feeling that can be likened to sticking your hand inside a warm Slurpee machine. As I stand next to her face, Themba's handler asks me if I want to be kissed by an elephant. Before I can reply, my cheek and eyeball are sucked up, then released in a smooch of spit and mud.

That a wild animal is able to show me such affection places me somewhere outside myself, and while I rub the dirt from my face, I feel like I've just experienced something truly magical.

Three tons of stealth

Things become even more surreal as the elephants leave the forest area. We watch as, within seconds, the three elephants merge with the bush. A member of the group breaks the silence, expressing his nervous disbelief at their quiet disappearance.

We're all a little shaken by the knowledge that within a few metres, three elephants at a combined weight of seven tons have silently disappeared.

Champagne, limousines and elephant weddings

Returning to the area alongside one of the pens, we are given a little more information on elephant anatomy. T.P refers to the male genitalia as limousines and urine as champagne.

While everyone chuckles, and perhaps edged on by T.P's warm open nature, Maria finds the courage to finally put our bet to rest. Shrugging her shoulders, she asks TP to confirm the rumour that elephants get married.

T.P laughs, watches as she begins to blush, and mentions that there is only one rule: No boyfriends until the age of sixteen, but that this has more to do with ensuring the young females don't injure themselves than with questions of commitment or matrimony. As for monogamy, the boys have up to fifteen partners a year.

The image of an elephant's wedding that Maria had cut so cleanly in mind is shattered, but she begins to feel a little better when we are asked if we'd like to feed them.

It's a walk off

Buckets are polished off quickly by the five elephants. T.P rips a branch off a nearby tree and hands it to a little girl in the group, asking if she'd like to give the smaller elephant a treat. His voice is noticeably sad as he mentions that the little one always gets bullied when it comes to food.

The last activity of the day takes place around an observation deck. Some watch from an elevated deck as others embrace the opportunity to walk the perimeter of a pen, trunk in hand. From the deck, I'm fortunate enough to witness an elephant offer up some champagne and cake from just a few metres away.

Remembering

Back on the main deck, people rest in the shade. Some have planned to stay for lunch, while others are in the curio store, buying gifts for family and friends. I sit down for a well deserved cold beer. T.P is nearby, chatting to everyone and answering any afterthoughts.

I bring up a concern - space. In order to roam freely, an African Elephant needs substantially more space than the sanctuary provides, a fact the sanctuary is well aware of. T.P informs me that the elephants are taken up into the surrounding countryside everyday. The sanctuary is 50 hectares in size, and the surrounding area available to the elephant's on these walks is much greater.

As I consider the option of riding an elephant through the surrounding wilderness, I muse on how peaceful the day has been in the company of elephants. I rub my cheek, and reminisce on my afternoon kiss from a chubby girl named Themba.

Currently there are two elephant sanctuaries in South Africa. One is located on the Garden Route near Plettenberg Bay; the other is situated at the Hartebeespoort Dam. Visit the Elephant Sanctuary website for more information.

Booking is essential.

Article © Copyright 2006 Go2Africa.

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