The mahout tells me to move up. But much further and I will be the
human version of a hat — crowning a hair-sprinkled, bulbous head at a
height more than twice that of most normal men. The mahout (elephant
trainer), widely grinning, keeps beckoning, so I wobble forward, not
really sure where to put my hands. At last, I wedge into a comfortable
crevice of wrinkly skin, positioned somewhere between two palm-shaped
ears, feeling as tall as the tree tops. More timorous than I expected to
be, I grip several tons of girth with my knees, lean forward a bit and
wrap my hands around some hills protruding from a massive skull. I pray I
don’t fall. It’s a long way down to the ground from atop an elephant.
Continue Reading: Elephant Elation
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