2015 Travel Writing Scholarship

The gentle, swaying movement of the elephant underneath us was mesmerising. The slightly fearful, huddled body language of the children gradually gave way to smiles and bright eyed wonder, as our majestic grey lady strolled through the forest, guided by her skillful mahout, our Karen village guide, Levish.

As a childless woman, I would opt to spend time with an animal, rather than being positioned as the motherly grown-up, looking after two little humans! However, when I was asked to join a small group trip in northern Thailand, visiting several children's orphanages and safe-havens, something inside me told me I had to go. Groups like Destiny Rescue work hard to save kids and prevent child trafficking, warmly welcoming people wanting to volunteer, donate or tour and see their efforts first hand.

The Akha kids we spent time with had seen more poverty and disadvantage than anything I could imagine. With few rights as an ethnic minority, living in Thailand as stateless children from a hill tribe, they lived with little, but dealt with a lot of fear. Being taken from their families and sold into child sex slavery. Not having enough food to eat. Not being able to tend animals and grow food within their villages, as many families were forcibly moved off their farm lands in the mountains.

Yet so many of those children still produced their biggest smiles and found moments of happiness, in the littlest things.

Our Karen village visit and riding an elephant, was their treat. My temporary youngsters seemed to hold the world on their tiny shoulders, which felt as though they would break if I hugged them too tightly. They were both far too small and thin. I thought the young boy Surachai was aged about six and the little girl Metina was five years old. Talking to them as we swayed along, following well worn tracks through the forest, through their broken English I was shocked to learn that Surachai was eight and Metina was nine years old. My heart felt torn. With little food, education, human rights, or other basic necessities, these kids would struggle. Yet, their smiles and joy that day showed a resilience and hope beyond what I could see for their future.

As we neared the end of our ride through the rolling hills and lush, evergreen scenery, Levish turned to us and said, "She speed up now! An elephant not forget, is true, she know we close to home". I knew then, I would also "not forget". I will always carry that memory of joy and hope from those kids.