A couple vacationing in Phuket, Thailand, were delighted when they encountered two young elephants—Lucky, just 3 years old, and Lily, age 4—playfully roaming along the beach. It was a scene straight out of a dream: the sunlit shore, the soft waves rolling in, and two baby elephants offering what looked like the most amusing massages you’ve ever seen. For just a handful of fruit, tourists could lie down and receive a gentle pat-down from a trunk and a foot, complete with laughs and photo ops.
The couple was told these elephants had been rescued from poachers and now lived safely in a nearby orphanage, mere steps from their hotel. Their handlers guided them lovingly along the sand each day, allowing them to interact with vacationers, children, and curious passersby. The atmosphere was lighthearted, full of joy and laughter. But beneath the surface of this seemingly innocent interaction lies a story far more complex—and heartbreaking.
Over the years, videos of elephants performing tricks or engaging with tourists have become internet favorites. They paint a picture of harmony between animals and humans, often set to cheerful music or captioned with humorous takes. But the reality, hidden behind those viral clips, tells a much darker tale.
Elephants like Lucky and Lily often undergo what is known in Thailand as phajaan, or the “crush.” It’s a brutal and deeply traumatic process used to break an elephant’s spirit so that it becomes obedient enough to follow commands. Many of these elephants are taken from their mothers when they are still very young, causing profound emotional and psychological damage. The separation is devastating for both calf and mother, who are bonded deeply in the wild.
The training methods involve confinement, physical abuse, and the systematic removal of an elephant’s autonomy. Over time, this process forces them into submission. While handlers may later appear affectionate and the elephants may seem tame, the foundation of that relationship is often built on fear and suffering.
Though some handlers now label themselves as “rescuers,” and some animals are indeed saved from poaching or illegal logging operations, the line between genuine sanctuary and tourist exploitation is murky. Tourists, unaware of the elephants’ past, unwittingly support an industry that profits off a legacy of cruelty.
But there is hope. Not all interactions with elephants are exploitative. Northern Thailand is home to several reputable sanctuaries where elephants are allowed to roam freely, form natural social bonds, and heal from their past trauma. At these sanctuaries, visitors don’t ride the elephants or watch them perform tricks. Instead, they observe from a respectful distance, witnessing their playful splashes in mud baths, their tender companionship, and their quiet recovery.
For elephants like Lucky and Lily, it’s hard to know what their pasts truly held. But their eyes, full of both curiosity and fatigue, speak volumes. As tourists, we have the power to choose compassion over entertainment. By supporting ethical sanctuaries instead of exploitative attractions, we can help shift the tide—and offer these magnificent creatures the peace and dignity they deserve.
