January 5, 2017

I’ve dated wonderful people.  With one exception, I’ve truly chosen really special people to spend time with.  But it’s been a while since I was impressed with someone to the point that it was intimidating.  Angel intimidates me, in the best possible way.  He speaks four languages, he is an amazing traveler, he passed the bar in three languages and three countries, he can talk to anyone, and he has a sense of wonder and joy as he moves through the world.

Shangri-Lao Elephant Village looks over the Mekong river, 30 minutes outside of Luang Prabang.  Elephants rescued from the logging camps live with their mahouts in a small jungle area, with an elephant vet on call.

Riding an elephant without the howdah (a trekking saddle that looks like a couch on their back) is an experience, and far gentler for the elephant.  (Avoid places that put you on a howdah.  And always research where you go.  Some of them are not part of the solution for rescued elephants.)

When you don’t have a howdah, you straddle their neck, with your knees balanced behind their ears, your hands resting on their head. Kam Khun, the 43-year-old male who was the largest in the sanctuary, was gentle, though his rolling gait almost threw me off into the water as we waded down the bank into the Mekong.  I wore shorts, so my knees were pressed under his ears, flesh to flesh.  My hands rested against the brittle brush hairs that covered his head.  An hour and a half ride into the jungle with him was a special experience, getting used to the way he walked and moved through his jungle.

Our ride into the jungle ended at the large enclosure protecting the baby elephants.  Each baby elephant is a couple thousand pounds of adolescent energy, grabbing bananas as fast as we could feed them with their amazingly gentle but insistent prehensile snouts.

It rained gently as we hiked onwards through the dense jungle around the elephant sanctuary.  The trail slickened as it got wet, and soon we were slipping and grabbing trees to not fall.

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Angel has a child-like ability to enjoy almost everything when he travels.  He doesn’t think twice about striking up a conversation, or looking like a tourist, or wringing every bit of experience out of each place he visits.

I think I am a good traveler, but he is a great traveler.  I want to be more like him.  I want to ignore the voice that says don’t ask for directions or help, don’t bother that person, don’t jump in that third waterfall just because it’s there.  He is open to the joy of each place, in an almost aggressive way.  If there is something to do or see, he wants to do it and see it.  He’s a little bit like those young elephants and their snouts…he’ll keep grabbing at the world, until there are no bananas left.

And that’s a great way to be.