After a layover in chqrmingly disfunctional, gridlocked Bangkok, we took an overnight flight to Nairobi, Kenya. We zipped over to the regional airport and got on an 18-seat plane bound for the Masai Mara Reserve. A Masai guide met us at the airstrip and took us to our riverside camp, and on the short drive we saw herds of elephants and grazers, lion cubs, and three sleeping cheetah brothers. Following is Cinda's description of our time there.

-Nate

I will admit that I am completely and madly in love with the elephant. The more I learn about them the more I appreciate their mannerisms, lifestyle and mental and emotional capacity. When observing them in their wild and natural habitat in Maasai Mara they were obviosly unique individuals and ranged from quietly ignoring our vehicle, to playful and engaging. On day 2 of our safari we came across a group of three elephants; one mother with her closeby nursing baby (less than 1 year old as measured by the fact she could still walk under her momma's belly) and a young male who was about 5 years old.

The young boy saw us and perked up his ears and walked straight towards our car. He turned towards us and began putting on a playful show with his trunk wrapping around his right tusk. I was filming this and laughing and he kept on playing until he was finally done then began grazing on grass closer to his mama.
On our last day (#4) we went out for our sunrise drive and again found the large family whose bull was the largest one known on the Mara. He is massive and stands about 10' high at the shoulder with tusks about 4 or 5 feet long. He was estimated to be about 55 years old which is near the later years for these Maasai elephants who, around 60 begin to wear out their 6th set of teeth and then eventually die of starvation.
We stopped in the road which passed near where these animals were roaming. The large male was actively persuing a female who was in estres so our guide knew better than to get down wind of the phermone emitting, dripping giant. The male wandered away from the female and found himself a muddy watering hole to splash mud sunblock on himself. Evidently he had an itch on his backside. Fortunately I was watching this with my own eyes as well as filming it as he wiggled his 6 ton frame down into that mud hole and sat on his bum while flailing about then stood up and flung more mud around and continued on his way. He walked in the direction of our car and showed us he was in charge by his short low grumble. Our amazing Maasai guide, Frederick "Fred" (given name is Olay Ranko), had already anticpated this and we were getting out of his way by the time we heard the grumble.

One thing that is apparent is that elephants are very good mothers to their young. The females travel together with their young close by and their gestation is 22 months(!!!), followed by nursing their babies for another 3-5 years (!!!). Needless to say that they are heavily invested and closely bonded to their family.

The young boys start straying from their group at around 5 years old and then they eventually leave their mothers to find other male bulls to emulate and start looking for females to mate with. The elephant memories are very very sharp (far exceeding that of humans apparently) and they never forget each other. Fred told us of seeing 35 elephants all together the day before we arrived. The elephant families often get together and visit with each other.

So after our amazing four days out in the middle of the bush we flew back to Nairobi for the night before heading to Senegal the next morning. We felt that a direct transition to city hustle would be too stark so we stayed at a bed and breakfast which shares grounds with a giraffe sanctuary. These gentle animals roamed freely and we were given instructions that if they came to the edge of the terrace we could feed them from hand or mouth, however if they stepped up on the terrace we were to swiftly make our way into the house as they are fast moving, sometimes unpredictable, and kick with both front and back legs, as well as head butt.We enjoyed feeding and petting them but they were definitely held in our company by the food pellets we held rather than any other interest.

We had arrived late afternoon so after lunch and a hike through the conservancy forest we headed to the elephant orphanage.We drove through the deeply pot holed roads of Nairobi and saw multiple signs and advertisements for security and barrier patrol which were posted around the residential neighborhoods. We arrived at the David Sheldrick Wildlife Trust (www.sheldrickwildlifetrust.org) grounds and the guard with pink braided hair extensions and a machine gun opened the gates for us.

We drove in and parked and were guided to the neatly kept stalls where te baby elephants were kept at night. They allow the public to visit the elephants for 1 hour in the morning and if you decide to adopt then you are invited back to see you baby put to bed in the evening. Because we arrived after the morning hour, and because it was clear that we wanted to adopt one the owner of the B&B called to see if we can adopt on the spot during the evening visitation. The center limits their public hours to give these animals time and space to adjust to their new environments and because some are still in shock and/or mourning the loss of their mother and elephant families. The reasons for the rescue of these babies is that they lost their mothers to either drought, poachers, or abandonement. In some cases the baby may have fallen into a man made well and become trapped and injured. In these cases the Kenyan government, reserve rangers, or local people call the DSWT to fly in and airlift the animal to the orphanage. There they tend to any injuries and provide care and companionship while the baby deals with it's loss and change of environment.

I was really impressed by the fact that in each outdoor stall there is an loft like wooden platform and a wool blanket where the attendants sleep overnight beside an elephant. If the babies are left alone they cry and pine for companionship. The tenants wake every three hours to bottle feed the baby 6 liters of milk formula around the clock. Each night the attendants rotate to stay with a different animal so they don't get too attached to any single person, as this would cause emotional problems if then that person took time off or was not there. So after visiting and petting the tiny rescue black horned rhino we made our way to the first elephant stall. My heart and Nate's promptly broke in half to see this small 3 month old elephant standing against and carressing his nose along a gray wool blanket which was hung in it's pen to emulate it's mother. The baby seemed disturbed and frusterated as he tugged at the corner of the blanket and paid attention only to this inanimate cloth which did not reciprocate with any of the needs this animal so desired. We wer told this was the newest orphan who had arrived 10 days previously after being abandoned by its mother. Nate and I looked at each other with heavy hearts as we were gently urged to try to visit each of the animals so that we could decide who we would adopt.

We made our way around to see all of the animals: 4 boys, 16 girls, 2 adult rhinos (1 was blind) and the baby rhino. Some of the elephants were playful and curious to smell visiters and wrap their trunks around their arms with the goal of getting you fingers into their toothless mouths for them to suck. I had one baby find and begin playing with the hair tie that was around my wrist after it wrappend it's trunk around my forearm and gently yanked me closer. Some of the other elephants were focused on eating the leaves in their pen, and others were already fast asleep on their sides covered up with a blanket.

Nate and I passed by the first elephant we had seen, Chemi Chemi, twice more but he was fast asleep. The director asked us who we would like to adopt, as it is a one time payment of $50, and since we had only about that much money on hand we had to decide on just one. We both agreed that our little Chemi Chemi needed our help the most at this time. By adopting we will get monthly updates on his progress during the next 3 years in the care of the center. After about 2 years the animal and his attendants will move to the Tsavo National Park and begin to integrate them into the wild population which is the largest single elephant habitat known.

I feel so fortunate to have experienced such a unique and profound connection with all of the elephants I have met so far. It makes me feel hopeful and proud that people with empathy and compassion saw the need to foster these vulerable and gentle giant mammals. And I feel grateful to have the opportunity for playing a tiny role in a program that has such a positive change for the lives of these little elephants. We look forward to hearing of our little one's progress and growth and eventual release back into his natural environment.

xo Cinda

Luang Prabang, Laos

We descended into the tiny Luang Prabang airport on a Sunday evening, through a curious haze. As we stepped off the plane, we were hit by a warm, dry wind carrying the smell of burning grass. It turns out that we arrived near the end of the dry season, this being the driest dry season in recorded history. This region is rugged and mountainous, with all available flat ground cultivated for rice and other crops, and many of the gentler slopes terraced for rice and bananas. Some farmers are burning off the leftover stalks from the last rice harvest in anticipation of the next planting that coincides with the rains that will (hopefully) come soon. I think some of these fires have spread to nearby wooded hillsides, quickly burning up steep slopes through the shrubs and grasses at the foot of cultivated teak trees and native forests.

After the noise and hustle and tangy air that stirred memories of 1980s Los Angeles that we experienced in Hanoi, this place is about as peaceful as it gets. Our taxi drove us out onto the peninsula where the main town sits, flanked by the Mekong River on one side and the smaller Kahn River flowing into it on the other. The quiet street was lined with lantern-lit cafes and restaurants and we quickly tucked into some of the best coconut curry soup we'd ever had. Before long we were resting in our quaint hotel with dark hardwood floors and a separate sitting room with a balcony over the street.

We spent Monday morning wandering the well kept gardens and patios of the city and stopped in at the main buddhist temple, where robed monks scurried about. That afternoon, we boarded a van for a short trip to a nearby waterfall. It was a busy tourist attraction, but spread out among dozens of gardens and pools, cascading from one limestone bowl into the turquoise depths of the next. At the base of the largest, upper waterfall, Cinda found a scrawled sign that said "To The Top" with an arrow pointing at a rugged, steep, slippery slope that could hardly be called a trail. She immediately started her special determined march (high knees, clenched fists, many of you know what I'm talking about) in her skirt and flip flops, leaving me to mutter to myself "I guess we're going 'to the top'". After a couple hundred feet of climbing, we reached a plateau and waded across the headwaters to the other side, only to find a sturdy wooden staircase to take us down the other side.

After a few leaps and rope swings into a chilly blue pool, we headed back down to the van, but first stopped at the large enclosure for rescued Asiatic bears. The local organization takes in orphaned cubs whose parents have been poached, and now they live in bear heaven, full of natural streams and pools, hammocks, tires, swings, and platforms, with plenty of room to move about. Being nocturnal, they were just starting to wake up in the afternoon, and had us rolling with laughter as they played pranks on each other, shoving each other when they weren't looking and crashing sleeping bears in their hammocks.

On Tuesday we had big plans. A local group looks after Asian elephants that are retired or rescued from working in the logging industry. An adult elephant can haul or drag as much as 2,000 pounds of lumber at a time, and are often injured or underfed while doing it. Since such logging is now discouraged by the government, many of these elephants instantly have become ravenous, unwanted guests to their former owners. In the pictures we saw of working elephants, it was surprising to see their taught skin and bulging muscles, instead of the usual sagging skin. I could imagine a wild elephant seeing one of these hulking work elephants and saying "Do you work out?"

Cinda was getting dressed, and I could see her carefully choosing her wardrobe in order to impress the elephants (apparently they like rainbow socks). I did think she was going a bit far when she started putting on lipstick though. But it was great to see how exicted she was. Our van pulled into the compound and we got our first glimpse of an elephant and I felt the seat shudder as Cinda quickly bounced up and down with delight. The program we had signed up for was called the 'mahout' class, after the Hindi word for an elephant trainer. The facility offers these tours (for a steep price) so that the eight retired elephants can pay their own way, with much of the expense going towards the 500 pounds of pineapple and and banana leaves each elepant eats every day (washed down with about 50 gallons of water).

Within minutes of arriving, we learned the basic commands for mounting and controlling the big sweethearts, many of them blinded from a snapped logging chain or jungle vine in their former lives. Cinda jumped at the opportunity to be first, and she approached her elephant slowly from the front right side, so the elephant could see her and get comfortable (look for a curious trunk, flapping ears, and swaying. Keep your distance if the elephant freezes!).

"Seung!" Cinda called. The elephant gently raised her front right leg to form a step. Cinda stepped up and using the top of the elephant's ear, vaulted herself onto the elephant's neck. After hauling loads for several decades, Cinda's weight barely registered on this elephant's back. "Pie! Pie!" Cinda called, and the elephant lumbered forward, ignoring the calls of "Sae!" and "Kwa!" ("left" and "right") and heading for the mountain of pineapple leaves at the edge of the clearing. After the elephant ate a few huge stalks, another mahout handed Cinda a bunch of leaves, which the elephant saw and immediately demanded by reaching her trunk over her head and right into Cinda's lap. Cinda complied, and the elephant stuffed the leaves into her mouth while turning to go back to the pile for more.

The real highlight came after lunch, when we took six elephants down to the river. We were in shorts and bare feet, with the insides of our knees near the tops of the elephants' ears and our outstretched hands planted firmly on the top of their skulls, hoping not to go over the bars on the way down the hill. As soon as the elephants stepped into the river, it was obvious that this was the highlight of their day, too. Cinda's elephant immediately got a trunkfull of water and sprayed her with it, and we marched out into the center of the river, which brought the water as high as our feet. Without prompting, my elephant decided to fully submerge herself, trunk and all, with her hind legs stretched out behind her and her front legs in front of her. I was up to my armpits in water, as she stayed under for a good 45 seconds before rising fully out the water. Each of the elephants had their own habits of how they liked to dunk and drink and wheel around, and we scrubbed their giant skulls and ears with rough brushes while they played with each other.

Our final destination was a 10 minute longboat ride down the river, to a nearly dry waterfall that was devoid of tourists. But they did have a zipline course through the treetops, so we woke up the sleeping proprietors and they put us in harnesses. A hundred feet up in giant swaying trees, standing on delicate looking but sturdy platforms, we zoomed through the forest on a dozen wire cables, sometimes lifting our feet above treetops and at one point being instructed to 'brake' on a particularly fast section, using a bamboo stick with a downward-facing crook to pull down on the cable. After a quick dunk in the small pool that remained throughout the year, we were off and headed back to town. A small temple sits at the crest of the hill that anchors the peninsula, so we hiked the 400 stairs and watched the sun set over the quiet city and the smokey valleys beyond.

This brings us to Wednesday morning, which was reserved for our Lao cooking class. After meeting our classmates - a young Belgian couple (Nicholas and Perrine) - we headed to the open-air market to learn about traditional foods. Can you imagine if beef jerkey still had hair on it? Water buffalo jerkey does! Back at the restaurant, we chose several recipes and learned how to prepare them - coconut curry soup, spring rolls, fried noodles, and sweet and sour catfish. Our teacher was great (and patient) and somehow we put together a spectacular lunch, washed down with travel stories and a little lao lao (rice liquor/antiseptic). And now we're up to date and going to pick up clean laundry, getting ready to fly to Kenya after a brief layover in Bangkok. I hope the next post is as filled with good times and unexpected adventures as this one has been. Traveling with Cinda, there's really no doubt it will be...

-Nate