Saving Elephants by Helping People by AMARI WEDDLE
S
ri Lanka is a country where both animals and people cohabit the same land— sharing resources, space, and everyday life. Interactions among elephants and humans aren’t harmonious, but rather consist of constant battles and devastating repercussions. This conflict causes approximately 250 elephant deaths a year, destroys farmers’ crops, and jeopardizes the safety of farmers and villagers. At this rate, the Sri Lankan elephant will become extinct in roughly 10 years. Behind the smiling faces of the farmers is pain and struggle masked by Buddhist philosophy. For the past three years, I have spent one-month during the summer at a research field house in Wasgamuwa National Park in rural Sri Lanka, where I established deep connections with the local community, taught English, and focused on resolving some of the challenges families in these rural communities face. Two lives, two different stories, but one unified goal. These are theirs.
THE POACHER
“I am afraid of them—the elephants,” translates Chinthaka. I am sitting in the field house with my two friends, Chinthaka and Siriya, who I now consider family. It has become a daily ritual drinking afternoon tea and exchanging
stories of our lives. Siriya was a farmer, like most Sri Lankans in the rural area of Wasgamuwa National Park. It was an honest job, but hard work — growing mung beans, rice, and papaya. It was the only life he knew. What he couldn’t predict was the influence elephants would have on not only his work, but his life. Countless times elephants raided his farm eating his crops, destroying his farmland and home, and in turn making him lose money. “It was the only solution I had to protect my family” he explains. His “solution”? Becoming a poacher. I could tell that Siriya was filled with hate and resentment towards these elephants; he poached for over twenty years “it was only fair,” they were ruining his livelihood. It wasn’t until he met Chinthaka that Siriya’s perspective began to change. Chinthaka introduced him to the Buddhist philosophy which focuses on acknowledging the suffering we endure and how to rid it from our lives. Through these teachings Siriya realized that these elephants mean no harm, but are just trying to survive, like him. Twenty years later, Siriya is no longer a poacher, but he lives in fear. Fear that the elephants are angry with him. Fear that each day they return to eat his crops they will also kill his family. Fear of his bad karma. Due to his
Top: Siriya climbs Sunrise Rock every couple of weeks to meditate and reflect. He knows the path by heart and could lead us with his eyes closed. The sunrise symbolizes a new day and rebirth and climbing Sunrise Rock does just that. (Pussellayaya, Sri Lanka)
poaching past, he lives in constant fear of what may happen to him.
THE SCHOOLGIRL
Her grandfather was a farmer. Her father was a farmer. And her brother would most likely grow up to become a farmer too. She comes every afternoon to play volleyball, swim in the tank (a manmade body of water), and to work on her English. “Aliya” the word for elephant in Sinhalese was one word I would get all too familiar with. When teaching English in the local schools it was this word that worked as a link connecting the two of us and breaking our language barrier. “What’s your favorite animal?” “What sound does this animal make?” are common questions asked which unveiled a wide range of responses from the kids. The majority have disdain for the elephants and put them in the category of “bad”. Mariya,