After one canceled and rebooked flight, three connections totaling seven hours and nearly 25 hours in the air, I finally arrived in Chiang Mai, Thailand, to begin one of my fourth-year clinical rotations: an international externship with Loop Abroad, a veterinary study abroad program. 

Over the course of the experience, I worked at two elephant sanctuaries, learning about elephant medicine, behavior, welfare and management. I expected to gain hands-on experience caring for elephants, but I left with something even more valuable: a deeper understanding of just how complicated and important elephant conservation truly is.

My experience began in Chiang Mai, where after orientation I visited the Sunday night market at Tha Phae Gate. I explored the vendors selling all sorts of goods and sampled street food and local Thai cuisine. The following day, we left the city and traveled to the first elephant sanctuary in Ban Chang. This sanctuary is home to 13 elephants, including a 3-month-old calf. After being introduced to the elephants and learning about their anatomy and physiology, we discussed our plans for the week.

One of the first things I learned was that there is no simple answer when it comes to elephant conservation. In particular, the first sanctuary we visited operates as a free-contact sanctuary, meaning there is no physical barrier between humans and elephants. This model can be beneficial for tourism, which provides critical funding for elephant-care facilities and helps keep sanctuaries financially afloat, but it also comes with significant welfare concerns. 

In some tourist and entertainment settings, elephants have been subjected to a traditional training process often described as “breaking the spirit,” involving coercive or abusive methods. The process is traumatic and brutal, but it is intended to make elephants manageable around humans and prevent dangerous behaviors. Before this experience, I had always thought of elephants as gentle giants. I quickly learned that this is not the whole story. Elephants are powerful wild animals, and they can (and have) seriously injured or killed people. Thus, captive elephants used for close human interaction generally undergo training to become accustomed to human handling. 

It is easy to think that elephants should simply be returned to the wild, and in an ideal world, they would be. Unfortunately, human population growth and deforestation have dramatically reduced the space available for elephants to live naturally. Relocating elephants can also create new challenges, particularly because elephants are highly social animals and separating families can have serious consequences. Learning this further made me realize how many layers there are to the issue of elephant conservation.

During our first day at the sanctuary, we performed physical examinations that consisted primarily of visual assessments of the elephants’ overall health and well-being. Over the next few days, we also vaccinated the elephants against rabies because of the public health and safety risks associated with their proximity to people. And we taught the mahouts, who are the elephants’ primary caretakers, how to administer the vaccinations themselves, an especially meaningful experience given the limited access to veterinary care in the area. 

Many of the mahouts are refugees from Myanmar and speak languages other than Thai, creating an additional communication barrier. Despite this, it was incredibly rewarding to watch them learn and understand what we were teaching them. Empowering them to provide more veterinary care for the elephants themselves felt like one of the most valuable things we could offer.

The following day, we placed an IV catheter and administered fluids and vitamins to an elderly elephant named Boon Yang, whom we estimated to be about 70 years old and who was experiencing suspected arthritic pain. The treatment appeared to help her. Moreover, throughout our time here, we also conducted fecal examinations and blood analyses to assess the elephants’ health, while working to train them to accept veterinary interventions, especially foot care. The goal was to make future medical care less stressful and more manageable for both the elephants and the people caring for them.

When I wasn’t hard at work at the elephant sanctuary, I was learning from experts in the field, namely Dr. Gede Gilang, a veterinarian experienced in wildlife conservation and zoo medicine, specializing in Asian elephants, and Christine Pratt, an animal trainer and behaviorist. One of the lectures that particularly stayed with me focused on elephant endotheliotropic herpesvirus, or EEHV, a potentially fatal disease that affects primarily younger elephants.

This was especially concerning considering the calf, Tong San, at the sanctuary who is particularly vulnerable to this disease. Tong San’s situation highlighted another challenge of free-contact tourism. Regular interaction with tourists can disrupt an elephant’s sleep and contribute to stress, potentially increasing health risks. However, we had the opportunity to educate the staff about the seriousness of EEHV and discuss ways they could help protect the calf. We taught them how to take an elephant’s temperature, which can be an important early indicator of illness. Despite the language barriers, the mahouts were eager to learn!

While interacting directly with elephants may seem like an exciting and entertaining experience for tourists, through my time here I came to understand that many of these interactions are made possible only because the elephants have experienced significant trauma. Thankfully, commercial logging in Thailand’s natural forests was banned in 1989, and street begging has been restricted through various laws and regulations. 

However, elephant riding is still legal. Elephant riding is now widely condemned by animal-welfare organizations because of concerns about the physical and psychological welfare of elephants used in tourism, including the coercive training methods sometimes used to make elephants manageable around people. Many sanctuaries seek to provide a better life and safe place for elephants that previously suffered at the hands of mankind. In particular, the elephants at this sanctuary had previously been used to work at circuses and ceremony rituals in Thailand. While it breaks my heart to think about what they had to go through to get here, I know that they are in a better place, even if it’s not perfect. 

Sanctuaries like this one can at least give these elephants some freedom and choice back. Currently, visitors can feed and bathe the elephants, but the elephants are given breaks between groups to move away, do their own thing and simply be elephants. 

This particular sanctuary is also working toward becoming a more hands-off facility with support from World Animal Protection, an international nonprofit animal welfare organization. But the transition is understandably difficult. The sanctuary depends on tourism to feed and care for its elephants, and there is concern that visitors may be less interested in coming if they cannot touch the animals. 

So, after five days at the sanctuary, I left with both hope and apprehension. The people there are incredibly dedicated and skilled, and they genuinely care about the elephants, but they have a very large task ahead of them. That said, I think they are up for it, and I feel humbled and honored to have had a hand in helping equip them to meet the challenge.

Before our second stop at an elephant sanctuary, we returned to Chiang Mai, where we toured the city, visited temples and learned more about Thai history and Buddhist culture. I also visited a Saturday night market, took a Thai cooking class and climbed the Sticky Waterfalls in my free time. Then, it was back to work!

We traveled approximately four hours into the mountains to the rural province of Mae Chaem District, where the second elephant sanctuary is located. The approach at this sanctuary is very different from the first. Instead of free contact, the second sanctuary operates under protected-contact principles, meaning there is always a barrier between elephants and people. Humans interact with the elephants primarily for veterinary purposes. Otherwise, the elephants are allowed to live their lives with as much independence as possible. 

Furthermore, the elephants at this sanctuary get to spend their days roaming through the forest on land that the owners of the sanctuary have purchased for them. This allows them to exhibit more natural behaviors and gives them considerably more freedom than they would have living in an enclosure full time. While much better for the elephants’ welfare, even this model is not without its faults. The elephants are still captive and remain under the supervision of their mahouts. They must return to their enclosures at night and remain there during the early morning hours. Mahouts are also needed to keep them from wandering too far during their downtime, particularly because the surrounding area contains farmland where elephants could pose a serious risk to crops and people.

This sanctuary houses three elephants, each with her own distinct personality. Mae Dok, the oldest, is reserved and calm in her enclosure but becomes adventurous and loves exploring the territory when she is released into the forest. Mae Kham is almost the opposite. She is rambunctious and excitable in her enclosure but somewhat more cautious when she is out exploring. And Jasmine, the newest addition, is still getting to know her surroundings, having been recently rescued. 

Because they practice protected contact at this sanctuary, our direct interactions with the elephants were limited to veterinary care. We vaccinated them against tetanus and trained them to voluntarily participate in medical procedures, including vaccinations, injections, blood draws and foot care.

We were also tasked with developing enrichment projects for the elephants based on their individual needs. I worked with Mae Dok, whose enclosure is near the area where treats are stored. Because she is so smart, she had learned that if she stood at the gate long enough, eventually someone would feed her. While this behavior may seem harmless, it was not ideal for her health or for the people working with her. The substrate near the gate was not conducive to maintaining healthy feet, and when she did not receive treats, she could become frustrated, creating a potentially dangerous situation. 

My goal was to encourage her to spend less time waiting at the gate and instead explore the rest of her enclosure and engage in other activities. To do that, I first observed her behavior and created an ethogram. I then developed a plan using the resources available to us. My solution was essentially a giant puzzle and scavenger hunt. I used empty tires and filled them with whole fruits, including watermelons, bananas and mangoes, so Mae Dok had to manipulate the tires to access the food. I also took banana stalks, carved holes into them and filled the openings with smaller pieces of fruit. I hid the stalks throughout her enclosure and hung the tires so that she had to interact with them to access the treats. She loved it!

Mae Dok spent a significant amount of time working on the enrichment activities. Even when someone entered the treat area and she initially followed them, she eventually returned to the game. Seeing her choose to engage with the enrichment rather than stand at the gate was incredibly encouraging and felt like a step in the right direction.

During our time at this sanctuary, we also got to follow the elephants during their excursions into the forest. Watching them move through their natural environment was incredible. The streams, rocks and mud that challenged us were no obstacle for the elephants. Seeing them in their element was a powerful reminder of what these animals are capable of when they are given the space and freedom to make choices for themselves.

Overall, my time in Thailand provided me with a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that I will always cherish. Initially, I was simply excited to work with my favorite animals, but I gained so much more than that: I learned that there is no single, straightforward solution to elephant conservation. Every approach comes with tradeoffs, and the challenges are deeply connected to human population growth, deforestation, tourism, economics, animal welfare and public safety. 

In a perfect world, elephants would be free to roam their natural habitats without having to worry about humans, but elephants are endangered, and as a keystone species, they have a vital impact on their ecosystems. Therefore, their survival is crucial not only to the elephants themselves but also to the environments in which they live. Sanctuaries and zoos can provide a haven for some animals and play an important role in conservation, but they are still forms of captivity, and there is always more we can do to improve the lives of these animals.

I feel incredibly fortunate to have been able to contribute, even in a small way, to elephant conservation during my time in Thailand. Whether it was vaccinating an elephant, teaching a mahout how to provide basic veterinary care, training an elephant to accept future medical procedures or creating enrichment for an individual animal, each experience reminded me of the impact veterinarians can have beyond the traditional clinic setting. 

I may not ultimately become an elephant veterinarian, but I know that conservation is a passion I will carry with me throughout my career. This experience reaffirmed for me that veterinary medicine is not only about treating individual animals. It is also about understanding the systems in which animals, people and the environment exist together, and finding ways to make those systems better.