Big Ears, Bigger Hearts: Hanging with Elephants

The Day I Met the Gentle Giants

I’ll admit it. I hesitated before visiting the elephant sanctuary in Phuket. I had heard the warnings. “It’s not ethical,” some said. “They’re still being exploited,” others cautioned. I didn’t want to be another tourist contributing to the harm of these incredible animals. But after doing my own research and learning about the specific sanctuary I’d be visiting, I decided to go. And I’m glad I did.

What I found there wasn’t exploitation. It was healing.

These elephants weren’t performers or props. They were survivors. Each one had a heartbreaking past: forced to work in logging camps, paraded in circuses or made to carry tourists on their backs for hours under the hot sun. One look at their bodies told their stories. The faded scars, rough patches of skin where the weight of heavy chairs once sat, and a haunted expression in one elephant’s eyes as it swayed slightly, almost as if it were still trying to balance on a circus ball, silently told their tales.

The visit began with something simple: chopping pineapples. It was surprisingly grounding to take part in such a basic task. It connected me to the rhythm of the sanctuary. At this place, things seemed to move slower, more mindful and were built around the elephant’s comfort. We prepared fruit and vegetables, bundled them up and had the chance to feed these gentle giants by hand.It was a childlike experience for me.

Getting up close was surreal. Despite their size and strength, the elephants were calm and even affectionate. One nuzzled in close, clearly enjoying the attention. Another reached out with its trunk, curious and trusting. It felt less like a tourist attraction and more like a moment of mutual connection.

The workers and caretakers were another beautiful part of the experience. Their bond with the elephants was undeniable. You could see it in their gentle tone, their patience and the way they anticipated each elephant’s mood or needs. Many of these caretakers had been with the elephants for years, and it showed. The sanctuary truly felt like a safe haven that provided a soft landing after years of abuse and trauma.

There was no riding. No chains. No forced tricks or performances. These elephants were finally allowed to be and rest.

This wasn’t just an animal encounter. For me, it was a lesson in compassion and second chances. It reminded me that healing takes time and that every being, whether human or animal, deserves to live free from fear and pain.

I left that day with a full heart and a deeper respect for these magnificent creatures. Visiting the sanctuary was an experience I’ll never forget. And to anyone who feels conflicted about it—do your research. Make sure you’re supporting truly ethical sanctuaries. But don’t write off the experience altogether. Sometimes, witnessing healing in action is exactly what the soul needs.