The tour group got the chance to experience another side of the Kwai, on a lazy raft ride down the river at the Taweechai Elephant Camp.
But a pontoon of loosely-held bamboo trunks was not the only form of transport that day, so was the back of a wrinkly bristled pachyderm, as the camp’s name alluded.
One part of the elephant ride that was a bit heart-tugging for me was passing the stilted homes of the Burmese u-si (“elephant keepers”), who had fled Burma (now known as Myanmar) because of the political turmoil in their country. They had so little and yet they kept an ever-present smile, whether forced or genuine, on their faces. I was humbly reminded that I was born in a not so different abode in the Philippines.
Before our leisurely jaunt through the treetops, an elephantine display of dexterity and artistry.
