E-wong                                                     Olivia N. Masi

E-wong arrived with us in January.  She’s a big old ele.  Well weathered that’s for sure.  Covered in lumps and scars.  Her feet look like they’ve been attacked by a giant cheese-grater.  Her skin has that ‘old’ feel, loose and soft.  She has one blind eye, apparently from birth.  She really shouldn’t look like this at just forty years old. 

        It is quite obvious, by her condition, that she’s done time in the logging camps.  She was possibly even drugged to work day and night.  E-wong is lucky to be alive.  Though she doesn’t understand this just yet.

        But these are not necessarily the things you notice most about E-wong.  Whilst riding her, I could feel her heavy soul.  I sensed that she’s had any enthusiasm, playfulness, bossiness, curiosity, and just about any twinkle of her own personality at all, ironed out over the years.  She breaks your heart. 

        E-wong is quiet.  She doesn’t show excitement.  She doesn’t feel the need to eat unless she’s hungry.  She doesn’t splash about in the water.  She is a very serious ele.

        The other elephants have tried to befriend her.  So far she has not responded to their advances.  A trunk to E-wong, is a weapon rather than an olive branch.  Being blind on one side makes her all the more unapproachable.  She wallops anyone (human or ele) whom appears in her vision too suddenly.

        Only time will tell if this ele’s spirit can be revived.  We hope she can learn to trust, for perhaps the first time in her life. 

Oh lovely lady.  I hope you come to realise that this is your home forever now.  I hope you can learn to relax, to smile, to splash.  To over-indulge in whatever takes your fancy.  And most of all, to learn to be an elephant again.