Motala’s tale has swept Thailand with a wave of emotion. Until this century, elephants formed the backbone of Thailand’s economy and Army, doing everything from hauling goods to carrying soldiers and kings into battle. The elephant is Thailand’s revered national symbol. Following the accident, newspapers featured Motala on page one, with daily features on latest developments–what she had eaten, doctors’ comments, debate over the role of the mahout. Concerned Thais donated nearly $110,000 to support an operation to save her leg. Thailand’s leading veterinarians and orthopedic surgeons volunteered their expertise. As the crusade to save Motala grabbed the headlines, her sad story revived growing concerns about the plight of Thailand’s beleaguered elephants.
Technically, Motala’s operation wasn’t complicated. “When we operate on a human we do the same thing,” says orthopedic surgeon Therdchai Jivacate, part of the team that operated on Motala. (Still, the doctors did have to feed her 20 liters of glucose and five bunches of bananas every day.) But how, exactly, do you operate on a 2.7-ton elephant? “You improvise,” says another member of the operating team. To clean the wound before the operation began two weeks ago, doctors packed a jumbo-size black plastic trash bag with antiseptic-soaked cloths and strapped Motala’s foot inside–cotton swabs just wouldn’t do. An electricity plant loaned one of its heavy cranes for moving the patient. A giant sling and a cot were constructed from a firefighting hose. The Elephant Hospital’s operating room was little more than a concrete floor in the forest, with a corrugated tin roof high overhead on poles. After deciding to lay the patient down instead of suspending her from the crane, doctors pumped her with the equivalent of 70 human-size doses of anesthesia.
The nation followed the operation’s progress with bated breath. Motala came round several times during the three-hour operation; doctors kept pumping in more anesthetic. A day later, Thais rejoiced when doctors pronounced the operation a success. By last week Motala was well enough for the team of doctors to winch her onto her feet with the giant sling to ensure circulation to the rest of her limbs. “She seemed to understand that people were there to help her,” one onlooker said.
Motala’s plight is all too common. Several other elephants have also stepped on land mines across the border in Burma, where ethnic-minority armies are fighting against the Burmese regime. None, except Motala, made it to the Elephant Hospital. Not only land mines are threatening the elephants. A ban on logging in Thailand a decade ago has made it hard for the country’s 3,000 domesticated elephants to find work. Many mahouts take their elephants to urban areas, where they offer rides and jungle treks to foreign tourists. Invisible on the road at night, the animals get hit by cars all too often. Others go deep into Burma or Laos for dangerous logging jobs, often on illegal operations. Soraida Salwala, director of the Friends of the Asian Elephant Foundation in Bangkok, is just as worried about physical and mental damage resulting from drug use. Veterinarians found evidence of drug-caused liver damage in Motala’s blood. Somwang, her mahout, reportedly admitted that he fed her amphetamines. Many mahouts feed their elephants with speed to make them work harder at their logging jobs. “What can we do?” asks Soraida, whose foundation helped raise funds for the operation. “Someone has to take care of them.”
While mahouts push their elephants to work ever harder, some experts are trying to reintroduce the surplus captive population into the wild. The World Wildlife Fund released several dozen into a northern Thailand wildlife sanctuary this year, hoping the elephants can learn to live on their own. But humans are moving in on the wild elephants’ habitat. In southern Thailand last year, pineapple farmers set out poison to kill elephants that had strayed onto their fields–former forestland–in search of food. The government ordered the farmers to stop before any animals were killed, but the struggle over land continues.
The Thais will be watching as Motala gets fitted for what must be the world’s largest prosthetic foot. Surgeon Therdchai, who heads the Prosthesis Foundation of Thailand, has helped fashion 2,000 artificial limbs for land-mine victims in his country over the past six years. “But it’s the first time I’ve had to make anything this size,” he says with a laugh. If Motala’s wound heals well, in a few weeks Therdchai can start fitting a limb. The socket will be made of stiff plastic. He will make the footpad from replaceable treads from old car tires. “We have no idea if Motala will accept it or not,” he says. Stay tuned.
