The other weekend, I had quite the adventure. I went to the Tiger Temple in province of Kanchanburi, which is a wildlife sanctuary run by monks that specializes in the rehabilitation of abused tigers. I was extremely excited for this trip; I hadn’t taken a trip in some time. I ventured off with some friends at the butt crack of dawn to catch our bus for the trip. In my groggy and half conscience state, I wasn’t really worried about my clothing, getting up and dressed was a success in itself. Unbeknownst to me, I had inadvertently worn the dangerous color red. I was not informed of my fashion gaffe until my Thai bus driver said, “Red no good, make tigers mad.” (It’s at this time I’d like to thank my friends who DID know this fact for the “heads up.” Oh wait, they didn’t tell me, maybe this is their way of saying, “Jesse, we want you to be eaten by tigers!”) Since peak retail shopping hours do not begin until AFTER dawn, I had to wait to purchase a neutral colored shirt until we reached the temple.
After a lovely drive through the Thai countryside (oh who am I kidding, I was dead asleep) we arrived at our destination. Here I was able to buy an overpriced black tee shirt with an extremely cool tiger picture on it. If I didn’t already, I definitely looked like a tourist now. Proudly sporting my new souvenir tee, I caught up with my friends who had already gone into the sanctuary (thanks for waiting guys!). Now being from suburbia, I’m not used to “wild” animals. I was instantly greeted by hoards of hogs, cattle, goats, and other animals I’m more accustomed seeing on my plate or in a photo. Perhaps the story of the big bad billy goats scared me more than I previously thought. Anyway, my mission was clear, TIGERS. (In retrospect, it’s funny how I was afraid of the goats I past as I feverishly sought out the live tigers.) Thanks in part to the many signs pointing to “Tiger Canyon” I found what I had come for.
At the bottom of this tiny canyon were 8 tigers, some pacing, some lounging, and some looking for a delectable tourist delight. The tigers were in a secluded area, a thin yellow rope separated the photo crazy tourists and the mighty beasts. The combination of the sweltering heat and being face to face with tigers caused me to sweat profusely. My heart was racing and my breath short. I was about to voluntarily step into a death trap for a photo op and a blog story. Two trained tiger specialists came to assist me (one to guide me, the other to take my picture). The young, svelte lady came to literally hold my hand through this experience. Our hands embraced and she headed for the first tiger. I saw our hands intertwined and saw her moving away from me, but my feet stayed put. She tugged my arm several times to “convince” me it was ok. Realizing my foolishness, I sheepishly followed her. The trainer eased me into the experience with a sleeping tiger. I sat behind the tiger gingerly placing my hand on its back so I could have a picture of me touching a tiger. You can see from my pictures I was quite timid at first, but I eventually warmed up the tigers. At one point I mocked the giant felines by pretending to growl and sit in an attack position. The last tiger I posed with was lying on its back, spread eagle (legs spread wide apart). The man who was in charge of this tiger pointed to what I thought was the tiger’s genitalia, as if he were telling me it was ok to hold it for a picture. As I paused with a puzzled look, he bent over and smacked the sleeping tiger’s inner thigh. I jumped in my skin as I thought, “Good God man, don’t piss it off before I pose!” I managed one more picture before heading toward the “safe” area (you know, the area behind the thin yellow rope). Just as I was to cross the back into the threshold of safety I heard a vicious growl.
One of the pacing tigers was getting agitated and was in a classic attack position face to face with a small 130 lb. Thai trainer (I should mention here that the tigers were chained to hooks safely implanted in the ground). The tiger roared louder and louder, causing frantic tourists to flee the canyon. My friends pleaded with me to leave with them, but like when I first stepped into the tiger trap, I could not move. My eyes were fixated with this man vs. nature standoff. It seemed like this surreal movie experience where everything around me was blurry and silent. I felt by body move towards the great creature, as if I thought I could ease his qualms. Before I could get farther than three steps, I was intercepted by two trainers, who grabbed my shoulders and attempted to pull me the other direction. I resisted, but they kept pulling. They pulled me so hard I lost my balance; I stumbled to my right trying to regain balance. My right foot went back at a 45 degree angle and my body twisted back, my right hand instinctually reached for the ground to break my fall. Simultaneously my left foot came across my body to regain my balance. Unfortunately to my right was another tiger, a tiger whose tail I stomped on with my left foot in an effort to stay on my feet. Clearly not happy, the tiger took a swipe at me with his massive paw as he let out the most ferocious roar my ears have ever heard. Luckily my quick reflexes and the bolted chain prevented the tiger’s claws from reaching me. Now there were three Thai trainers frantically ushering me out and screaming what I can only assume was Thai profanity. The last trainer was too preoccupied with me to notice the tiger that viciously attacked me was still upset and still pursuing blood. I can only hypothesize that he was not worried because the tiger was bolted down. Scared or not, he was standing closer to the tiger than I was, and was just in reach of the beast. As I was being dragged out I calculated his proximity to the tiger and yelled to him in Thai, “Ah neee!!!!” (Ah nee means “here” and this is obviously spelled out phonetically). I realize now that’s not what I should have said, but I don’t know how to say “Look, a tiger is going to attack you!” in Thai quite yet. I was having another surreal Hollywood moment, where everything around me went in slow motion. The trainer turned around and saw the tiger just before the tiger gouged a chunk of the trainer’s leg off. He quickly hopped back in time for the tiger to only nip the bottom of his khaki shorts. A monk then shot the tiger with a tranquilizing dart punctuating the end to an inexplicable chain of events.
Anyone who actually believed that last paragraph, I apologize. It was completely false, not a shred of truth. The first three paragraphs were all true, but nothing exciting happened in the tiger canyon. In reality these tigers are so drugged up I’m not sure if they even know what’s going on. It’s just a perpetual cycle of tourists getting their pictures taken with tigers to show their friends and family. I went in and had my picture taken with four different tigers left, body in tact, received my free water, and proceeded to see the other “wild” animals. Not quite as riveting, but still a memorable experience.
