Pachyderm Party

By Lawi Weng, Photo: Taio Tyson


Each June, Karen villagers living on Thailand’s border with Burma gather to show appreciation to elephants—their friends and invaluable helpmates

SANGKHLABURI, Thailand — EVERY year for the past three years, Karen mahouts have paraded their elephants through the Thai village of Bang Mai Pattana, in Kanchanaburi Province’s Sangkhlaburi District, on Thailand’s western border with Burma.

The Karen, an ethnic group who live mainly in southern and eastern Burma, but who have also inhabited parts of Thailand for centuries, have long used elephants in their logging businesses along the border.

With a stream running through it that many working elephants use to cool off in after a hard day’s work, Bang Mai Pattana is known to locals as “Elephant Village,” making it the natural choice for hosting an annual party to honor the noble beasts.

Elephant parties are nothing new to the region, which has a long tradition of revering the animals for their service to their human masters. Extravagant celebrations were often held in the past to encourage elephants to fight in wars between the kingdoms of Thailand and Burma.

The Karen value their elephants highly, prizing them as much as they would a luxury car.
They use them not only for transporting logs, but also for carrying rice from the hills to their homes in the jungles below. But elephants are more than just the perfect all-terrain vehicle; they are also friends who work together with people as part of a team.

The day of the party also marks the beginning of the elephants’ off season, when there is less work for them to do. Since the elephants work hard the rest of the year and often have less than enough food to eat, on this day they are invited to take their fill from a nine-tiered fruit pagoda. The huge pile of watermelons, sugarcane, bananas and jackfruit provides the elephants with enough food to keep them satisfied for two days.

This year, 3,000 baht (nearly US $100) was spent on sugarcane alone.

Even after half an hour of solid eating, there is still plenty of food left on the pagoda. At this point, local children began to clamber to the top to get fruit and sugarcane to throw down to friends waiting below. The children of elephant owners have a great advantage, because they can climb up their elephants’ trunks to reach the highest levels.

At this year’s party, one young boy was especially adept. Many of his friends could be heard calling his name and pleading for pieces of fruit. After an hour, anyone who could scramble atop the platform and avoid the elephants’ trunks had free rein of the produce.

Although the event is billed as an “elephant party,” there are many attractions for people as well. Visitors can watch Thai, Mon and Karen traditional dancing and enjoy free meals from food stalls. People are often greedier than the elephants, feeding themselves with both hands while trying to catch the fruit being thrown down by the children.

Besides being fun for everyone, the elephant party also has a serious purpose. It is intended to raise awareness of elephant rights among Burma’s ethnic minorities and to maintain the strong relationship between the Thai and Karen cultures.

As a sign of respect, the organizers of the party arranged for monks too pray in front of the elephants and sprinkle holy water on their heads. Then they gave amulets to the owners, who tied them to the elephants’ front legs. The amulets are believed to protect the elephants from physical and mental illnesses.

The pagoda used to feed the elephants also attests to the belief that elephants are more than mere beasts.

The custom of erecting fruit pagodas originated in the days of the Burmese monarchy, when ceremonies were held to celebrate the birth of an elephant.

But constructing them is fast becoming a lost art. “To build the fruit pagoda, we needed a teacher,” said a party organizer. “It is very difficult to learn and not just anyone can do it.” Many are worried this custom will disappear.

Meanwhile, Thai authorities in Kanchanaburi Province were keen to maintain the spirit of the event by emphasizing its role in bringing different species—and different cultures—together.

“Elephants and humans are the same,” said one local official. “We are all the same, and we are all welcome at the party.

Elephants from Burma can also come to our festival.”

Of course, it was not all about goodwill and peace to man and elephant. There was also a commercial motive, as the elephant party was a guaranteed tourist draw.

Owners, some of them from Burma, were offered 1,000 baht to bring their elephants to the event. The party, which was traditionally held in April, was rescheduled to take place in June at the suggestion of the Tourism Authority of Thailand so that it would not compete with Songkhran, the Thai New Year. Some expressed concern that the party was little more than another opportunity to exploit the elephants for financial gain.

Despite such misgivings, however, most agreed that the elephants deserved a break from their usual routine. Unfortunately, many were not able to make it. The number of elephants in attendance dropped from 18 to 14 this year.
An organizer explained: “The four who missed the party were working—it can be a tough life for an elephant.”