KALEIDOSCOPE.

As surreal the end, 

twas also the beginning.


A kaleidoscopic journey through four continents in 10 countries spanning 370 days. 

*The Peruvian Rainforest Rescue*

~July-August 2011
~Birdwatching, turtle-saving, trail clearing, JaguarTapirMonkey feeding!

 Here, you can see that Cailie is hard at work!

*The South African Immersion*

~August-January 2011/2012

~Daycares, Animal Shelters, Soup Kitchens, Teaching Drama to underprivileged children

~Various Ethnic Groups and Languages: 

        Xhosa, Afrikaans, and English

Precious ones who call me "Tanny." (Auntie:)

*The Cambodian Bliss*

~January-March 2012

~ Scuba Diving twice a day to perform fish, reef and seahorse surveys

~Beach, Reef, and Village Litter Removal

~Awesome Friends!

Magical Seahorse Bonding Moment!

*The Thailand Thought-Provoker*

~March 2012

~Cleaning, Feeding, Washing, and Cuddling elephants
~Learned of Thailand's animal abuse, unsustainable tourism(riding elephants), and illegal wildlife trade

My Pa and I giving Bua a little scrub 'n' love!

*The Mongolian Culture Shock*

~March-May 2012

~Orphanage for 1 month (2-month-olds to 1-year olds whoo have been orphaned or abandoned)

~Nomad Awesomeness!!
    *Living in the middle of nowhere: herding sheep, riding horses, and loving my non-english speaking family :)

Herdin' sheep on a wild horse in Mongolia, 

just a casual Tuesday for me!

Cultures, experiences, humans, adventures, hellos, goodbyes....

       From all of the above, I have discovered the ANSWER(S) TO LIFE!!!!
Behold:

1) To Thyne Ownself Be True.

Be yo'self.
It may not make everyone happy, but you need to be happy with yourself. Self-respect leads to others' respect.

Proof:} In Peru, I was surrounded by volunteers who loved to drink and smoke. Not up my alley, they soon realized I was not a participant. Expecting judgement, I instead received praise! As the handmade bamboo bong was passed around the circle, respect was passed to me for choosing to get high on life instead... Woo!

2) Don't Always Believe What You Think!

*Applicable Everywhere*

For me, it gave me a new perspective on many of my experiences this year.

From circuses and tourism to chemicals in food and first impressions.
Hence:} I met a fellow volunteer on one of my projects who, on the outside, appeared to be quite the fun-loving party lad. Vodka, cigarettes, and a superb sense of humor was simply a facade to the broken soul underneath. Following a deep talk one night, I learned that he has been living with a life-threatening disease that he woke up to at age 14. His legs paralyzed, his mom took him to the hospital where he learned that there was blood between his brain and skull, which somehow caused him to temporarily lose the use of his legs. After having the blood drained, he had to re-learn how to motivate his legs into movement. This life-threatening occurrence came 3 more times, which left him in the hospital for 6 months. His father did not visit him once during this time period, yet his mother came every single day. For four years, he has lived with the possibility that everyday could indeed be his very last.
  Monthly check-ups ensure that his health is monitored. His mom's constant bedside presence has made his bond with his mom unbreakable. He told me how he loves his mom so much, and by living so close to death, he has learned the importance of seemingly small events in life. He cherishes the 20 minutes with his mom and tea.
  If people judged his book by his "partying" cover, one would never know the struggle and triumph beneath. Thus, thou shalt not believe what thy thinks!

3) Don't Forget the Little People!

*The Supportive Family Member:

     Your mom, dad, sibling, grandparents, aunts, uncles. Whether you like them or not, they (most likely) love you. Truly, they mold you into the person you are today and (hopefully) support you along the long and winding yellow brick road.

*The True-Blue Friend:

   In sickness and in health and in mood swings galore, don't forget the person who was always there for you.

*The Less-Fortunate*

   Many of us pass by countless homeless people on the street, but how many of us actually view them as an equal? We are all guilty of walking past them and trying to ignore their plea for money, but why not put ourselves in their shoes? Imagine calling the sidewalk your home and the strangers walking through it your income... We are incredibly blessed to live the lives we have; next time you come across one of these poor souls, give them a bite to eat or just strike up conversation to let them feel human and noticed again.

4) THIS IS YOUR LIFE. 

Shape it or someone else will!

    

   Others do have the power to shape your life. Their words can change your confidence, their actions your opinions, their apathy your perseverance.

  After one year of travelling and volunteering, a mini epiphany has come my way.

One person can indeed change the world.

I aspire to be that one person. 

 

“I shall pass through this world but once. Any good therefore that I can do or any kindness that I can show to any human being, let me do it now. Let me not defer or neglect it, for I shall not pass this way again.”

  

  Thank you to everyone who reads my blog and supports me...

     

        Thank you to those who also want to make a difference in this world....

             Thank you to my amazing parents who will never stop believing in me. I feel blessed.

Thank you!!!

For now, I must say goodbye...

In the words of Forrest Gump,

"I think I'll go home now."

:)

Until we meet again,

May the Force be with you,

Stay Golden,

Be The Change,

Strawberry Fields Forever,

Inspirational Phrase

*And also with you!*

Love you long time,

Caitlin Emilie Jordan Kensington Moir Kafura.

Viva La Vida Loca!

Following the land of Mongols, I was in need of a dose of civilized civilization; I anticipated the final leg of my journey which would bring me to England and beyond.
However, Asia had some separation anxiety and couldn't let me go.
It all began with my 8-hour delay in the Chinggis Khan Mongolian Airport due to "blue skies."
Optimists would appreciate the perk of receiving a hotel room for the delay, yet pessimists make a good point when realizing that the hotel required passengers to share a room with someone. Being a solo traveller, I anxiously watched as a game of roomate roulette played out before me with the winner being a random Chinese chap. Herro Roomie!
  Thankfully, it was broad daylight, so I meandered the streets to kill time and also kill the awkwardness that would have been in that room had I stayed. This one delay was simply the beginning. My next two flights left without me and so my arrival in Beijing also paired me with lucky roommate number two! Whilst standing in line, I struck up conversation with an Ozzy who was also on the mongolian flight. We decided it would be best to share a room together, since no one else seemed to be a good candidate.
Laughing at the potentially scandalous sight of us sharing a hotel room in Beijing, he phoned his wife to say that he was stranded in Beijing and sharing a hotel room with a 19-year-old American girl. That probably did not sound too kosher to his wife :)
  England finally pulled me from the grips of Asia's airports, and once it did, my multiple train trips around England to see my cousins began! Between family reunions, many other adventures filled the gaps...
   The Queen celebrated her 60th anniversary to the throne...to England, this meant Union Jacks, partying, no work, and concerts on the roof of the palace. Long Live the Queen! 


After all of this excitement, I popped down to Denmark to visit one of my fellow Cambodian volunteer friends. Twas a blast: seeing the city through a rainbow walkway, being mistaken for a Dane, witnessing a fjord with its jellyfish, and headbanging with long-haired locals to garage bands.  Denmark is where it is at!


A trip to Spain was organized with my cousins and we went to the medieval city of Caceres.
One week of tanning, pooling, gymming(not my ideal idea of fun :).... Being near the Portugal border made for a prime atmosphere when the Spain Portugal soccer game began. Walking amongst outdoor cafes in the evening, we saw the masses gathering in front of TVs to watch history in the making.
At the final stop, we sat down to see who would win, and Spain took it home! Everyone  jumped in jubilation and the older man in front of us came over to give what I though would be a hug but instead was a kiss; I laughed when his kiss hit my neck instead of my cheek. Again missing the memo, I didn't turn for the other cheek to be kissed and thus my eye received a kiss!
The waiter came to do the same and my wits finally kicked in as we gave kisses on the cheeks like normal people. The atmosphere on the way back to the hotel was exhilarating.
VIVA ESPANA rang through the streets, with coinciding horn honkage. Amazing.


And back to England we went where my cousin and I were invited to an 80s party in an old underground train station in London. My dream party! Even the walls were graffiti-ified just for the event. We showed up in our bright colors ready to dance to some old school beats and we were surrounded by the best fashion-- giant glasses, gold shorts(on men with sweatbands!), high waisted everything, leg warmers, and neon leggings. In the basement, fake tattoos were given as well as vintage clothes for sale. Long Live the 80s!!!


One final trip to France for a week had me in Dijon, Lyon, and Royan. I visited my friends from Cambodia, Mongolia, and my former foreign exchange student. Dijon and Lyon had beautiful cathedrals and castles to offer, while Royan brought the party. Beaching and dancing and going to bed at 6am. Ah, the lives of the youth...


That brings me to today. Today I pack. Pack for America. Tomorrow I will go to New York City and spend four days with my brother...my last hoorah...


For the moral of the gap year story, return to this blog in 4 days... see you soon....




xoxo


Cailie Kafura!

Babes.

First Harley Ride...in Le France. 

Classy Tattoo.

Seeing Denmark through a rainbow!

Headbanging like a Dane!

Caceres, the medieval Spanish city.

Yay Family Reunions! 

My year in a backpack(s). 

Valley of the Nomad

 I walked across an empty land,
I knew the pathway like the back of my hand;
I felt the earth beneath my feet,
I sat by the river and it made me complete.


 My 5 hour bus ride to the ancient city of Kharhorum ensured the promise of no return from nomad's land.
The scenery left no mystery of my life to come for 2 weeks-- rolling hills, soaring eagles, countless sheep, the quintessential yurt, and the eternally blue sky.

  My host mother picked me up from the bus and squeezed me in the truck with the other neighbors; this made for an instant meet-and-greet as we were piled on one another and the woman next to me casually breastfed her "way-too-old-to-be-breastfed" child. After 30 minutes of this amusing adventure, we arrived at my humble abode.

  Setting the ultimate ambiance, the nomad father herded the 1000 sheep form atop his horse with the dust emphasizing his silhouette at sunset. I was given my bed in the first of three yurts, which was adorned in Chinggis Khan tapestry and horse memorabilia. Dinner was concocted in a steel basin over the stove, which was heated with livestock dung(very resourceful!). Rice and meat soup was given to the father first, then to the guest, followed by the 5-year-old-son, and finally the mother. Everyone sits on the floor eating their portions, which are massive to begin with and a second helping is required. I was so tired, but it was quite awkward climbing into bed while in the kitchen with the family. I eventually gave in, knowing tomorrow would hold the true nomad experience.

   "OY!"...My father yelled this at me at 7am the next morning and said "horse!" He was wearing his traditional del, which is a long jacket with traditional buttoning and a colorful sash tied around his waist. I hopped on the horse and followed the mother and son over the endless green mountains, passing menageries of livestock on our way. Our destination was the well, where other nomads and their flocks gather to be watered. Sheep became one wooly mass as they squeezed in to reach the water trough, which was an unfurled monster truck tire.

   For four hours, our duty was to water the current batch while keeping the other species away until it was their turn. The word of choice was "CHUU!" when trying to keep the others grazing instead of quenching. Furry and horned cows, elegantly tressed horses and fully woolen sheep surrounded the watering hole. We took turns dropping th bucket into the well and heaving it back up to pour it in the tire trough. While the horses were being watered, the father lassoed one of them and exchanged it with one that we rode in on. By doing so, it meant that while each horse had to serve their duty, it also had its freedom.

   When all were quenched, we leaped back upon our trusty steeds and travelled yurt-wards. Lunch was delicious--called "Suutei Bodda"-- meaning sweet milk-based rice. My father and I had a conversation through the phrasebook, which resulted in lots of awkward silences. I learned that he is 23(but looks 33), has 4 siblings, his name is impossible to say, and he has 2 kids. He learned that my name is Cailie, I have a 22-year-old-brother, and  that I am from "Chicago" (because no one knows what Wisconsin is :)  I showed the family my pictures from the day and they retrieved their photo album. Good old family bonding!

   That evening, after being asleep for some time, I was awoken by the unmistakable squeaking bed across the room from me. This bed is where my host mother, father, and 5-year-old-son slept. I could not believe my ears--were they truly performing the deed not only with a complete foreigner (ME)  6 feet from them and their own son in the bed with them?!?
SURVEY SAYS: "When in Mongolia....indubitably!"
I had to find my happy place before their happy place made me gag! It was a serious struggle to fall asleep after that "family bonding" experience; little did I know it would continue every night for the next 2 weeks. Oh joy.

     On the bright side of the reproduction cycle, a brand new baby sheep was born the next day! Umbilical cord in tow, he was shaking in his wool socks as he tried to make sense of this new world. He soon became a part of the family as he lives in the yurt!


       

    By 8am, we were on horseback to return to the well; watching the family interact with their livestock made me realize  why Mongolians are not seen as the friendliest of people. Using whips, sticks, lassoes, and rocks, nomads control where their herds go and keep them in line using one of these harsh methods. At my orphanage, nurses would pick kids up by one arm and carry them to the designated feeding area. Cruel, but when watching how goats ("kids" for irony's sake) are picked up by their horns, I see that the treatment of people stems from the traditional and historic treatment of animals. I truly struggled with the culture shock of Mongolia with its lack of respect for many aspects of life was evident in the city; now that I am in the countryside, where Mongolians originated, I see that their lifestyle has simply stayed the same since everyone was a nomad.

   Observing the family's etiquette at mealtime makes for dinner and a show. Beginning by drinking the traditional milk tea before every meal, they slurp it from the bowl. The meal is served, containing rice and mystery meat without fail. (I definitely ate horse the other day... Tea and SeaBiscuits! ... Did I take that too far?) They love their milk tea so much, they pour it in their bowl with their food. What convenience! Having your tea and eating it too!  Just to meet their quota, they drink one more bowl of this "suu" tea after each feast. Father whips out the matchbox and fashions the end into a toothpick. All three of them sit there in their own world picking away at their teeth and spitting their finds in whichever direction they please. I sit there in amazement, wondering if I should join in the fun. Instead, I just giggle.

   Almost a sign of meal appreciation, the father passes gas freely; he grabs some toilet paper and heads for the "toilet" in the front yard-- two wooden planks and a hole. Pantless and squatting, he laughs, I laugh, and the family resumes their normal lifestyle, which seems to follow the golden rule of "You are what you herd!"


     
        When we reminisce on our childhood, memories of Hey Arnold on TV, Oregon Trail on floppy disk, and dressing up as Power Rangers on Halloween come to mind (for those of us 90s babies).
However, the childhood of my nomad brother will be unforgettable and envied by many. At only 5 years old, he has the freedom to roam this beautiful neighborhood of his, without the fear of pedophiles or killers. Frolicking amongst the bulls, sheep, and dung, he is wild and free...peeing and playing at his heart's content.
His chores include doing homework(copying numbers) and jumping on a half-wild horse to herd the mighty masses all by himself. I don't know about you, but I sure believe this sounds like a quality hood!

    
     The in-laws arrived yesterday, along with their "Goldilocks" syndrome when they realized a white girl was living in their yurt! Although I didn't understand what they were saying, it was obvious with the "subtle" head nods in my direction that the words were about me. I am a walking sore thumb in these here parts!!
I picked up a few phrases like "Amerik," "Chicago," and "Goy"(meaning good). At one point, one of the nomad fathers said "Boss" (stand) and motioned for me to verticalize myself to eye up my height....to say I felt like Bigfoot would be an understatement, as not only was I taller than him, but my head grazed the ceiling.

  
     As you all know, I am not an alcohol consumer, but in this circumstance, it would have been rude to refuse. A single cup of beer was passed around the yurt, followed by burning vodka shots. Even the toddlers were given sips of the fun! I assumed this was special occasion drinking, but I was proven wrong when the beer and vodka returned the next morning at breakfast.... "Ain't no party like a nomad party, because the nomad party don't stop!!!"

  
  Speaking of drinking, my host father woke me up with a tall glass of what he told me was tea. Noting its bright yellow appearance, I became suspicious. Confirming my doubts, the mother points to the son and says a word that must have meant urine."OGUII!" I yelped, in refusal of this repulsive offer, assuming it was a joke. Until I saw the father chug half of the bodily fluid. I was disgusted but at the same time, unphased, because nothing this family does shocks me anymore...

  
   
   After seeing that I was shivering from the cold, my host mother pulled out a silver kimono-esque Del from an old chest. She has me put it on and gives me a silver earring to wear. To complete the look, she brushes my hair into a braid and ties the scarf around my head. We were two girls playing dress-up and taking pictures of the final result. She then makes a gesture to symbolize "gift." I am now a proud owner of an authentic handmade Del! I am sure I will be all the rage when I sport it in Wisconsin's winter!
I have made my dairy state proud as of  my last night's success of milking a cow! My host mom put her del and headwrap on me so I could look the part, and then she began the photo shoot. When we returned to the yurt, she continued the fashion show, having me wear 100-year-old hats and my host father's traditional coat.


    I swear, every morning I am greeted with new surprises. On my final Mongolian countryside morning, the lucky surprise hung above me in the form a sheep carcass. Its head on the floor. Its insides lay in a heap in a bowl that my mother played with. I have one of two choices. Laugh or gag: the usual two options. I nervously laugh and document the scene before me, while pitying the sheep.
A few hours later, it was yet another goodbye for me. Hugs for all, I thanked them and said "Bayartai!"


   They have been an amazing host family: warm, welcoming, and the best sense of humor. Language barriers do not exist unless you allow them to...charades and kindness create lasting friendships or in this case, surrogate families, as my host parents call me their daughter and themselves my family. ♥

Nomad time!

Picturesque.

CHUU!

The kids and I :)

The poo fuel!

Sleeping on the job!

Mama and me!

Tradition Meets Swagger.

Milking like a BOSS!

Cleaning the poo!

Heaven.

Land of the Blue Sky

Flying above mountains of white and being the only white representative in the aircraft,  I felt a sense of impending culture shock. This was indeed a foreign country...

A juxtaposition of nomads and fashionistas share sidewalks of vodka shrapnel.

Peering through the apartment complexes and global embassies loom the mountains of whose vallies cradle iconic nomads.

I live in one of these apartment complexes with a mongolian family of three. My mother, her daughter Saina, and her 1 and a half year old daughter BoomBah(who is literally a mix between Boo from Monsters Inc. and the kid from Ice Age!)....

Each day I walk to my orphanage where I care for 10 orphaned, abandoned, or street children who are only 2 months to 1 year old.
After a 9-5 day of hugs, drool, tears, and mutton stew for all, I return to my host family for some dinner and Mongolian soap operas!
When bedtime arrives, I go to my room while the rest of the family sleeps in the living room. Bed theft, you say?
Well, before Ulaanbataar and apartments came along, Mongolian families lived in "gers" or "yurts," the round felted nomadic tents. These tents are a bedroom, kitchen, and living room all in one. In gers, there is an obvious lack of privacy and rooms. This lifestyle is still in a transitional phase in the city as I have stumbled upon whilst watching TV in the living room as my host mom and sister strip into their pajamas next to me. No shame! :)



I have become an impromptu english teacher as of late, finding eager students in parks, at home, or at work. Experiencing humorous "My Mongolian Fair Lady" moments, as one of my apprentices repeats "there is no hot water." She looks through her pocket english book and attempts to pronounce the most unnecessary of phrases: "please open the cockpit" to the grammatically lacking "I'm come from Mongolia."

Culture Shock, Ahoy!

Hey there, horsey!

Mongolian Horses!

My BoomBah!

Mongolian Earth Hour

Baby Burrito!

Snowboarding Trip on the Mongolian Mountain!

Traditional Del in a traditional landscape ♥

Tourist Ger!

How much is that orphan in the bookshelf?

Bubba Mouth!!

My camel and me!!

One does not stop to think about their Mother Tongue, until put into situations like these. Showing how to say simple words in English to a Mongolian accustomed tongue starts a game of baffling charades.

This shall continue until May-
However, in May, I will say bayartai to society and go live in a ger as a nomad for 2 weeks.
Kickin' life old school!

WOO!

Of Greed and Men

Sawadeekah!


Thailand brings to mind many images:


~Elephants
~Hangover 2
~Jungles
~Exotic Wildlife
~Ladyboys


In my mere 3 weeks of being in Thailand, a whirlwind of sights and sounds has left me in a juxtaposed state regarding my feelings for this confused country.




Allow me to begin on the 4th of March, when I arrived in Thailand.


The Wildlife Friends Foundation of Thailand began with a Dutch man named Edwin and his determination to rescue animals from the illegal wildlife trade that runs rampant in Thailand.
This sanctuary creates homes for animals from all kingdoms and genres: monkeys, otters, bears, crocodiles,  goats, dogs, warthogs, lorises, civets, elephants, and one tiger.


All of these animals would be living wonderfully free lives, if it weren't for the greed that drives those who sell them as pets or lure tourists with their tricks.


This sanctuary would not even need to exist if it weren't for the abusive acts of others.


However, my naive-minded self arrived with wide eyes to the sanctuary, enticed by the opportunity to work so closely with such amazing animals of which some I never laid eyes on before!


On the evening of one of my first nights at the sanctuary, all of the volunteers were shown a video about the true treatment of elephants behind the scenes of circuses, movies, street begging, and the use of elephants for logging.


To say I cried would be a strong understatement. The hatred and empathy that was born after watching these horrific images of these gentle giants being beaten until their fear became submissiveness made me sick.


We also learned the heartbreaking and repulsive truth behind Mahouts, who we are all told are the elephants "companion for life."  We all believed it, until we learned of the Phajaan.
Another sickening story to discard the brainwashing of Mahouts being the "good guys."
The Phajaan begins when the mother elephant is poached and the baby is taken for potential use as a trick-performing elephant (so the owner gets money from tourists); this baby elephant is then beaten to a near-death state to "kill the spirit" of the elephant, whose fear of abuse makes it submissive to humans.


These elephants with killed spirits are then used to perform tricks for tourists on the streets of Bangkok, perform in movies or circuses, haul massive logs for years, or give rides to tourists.


All 6 of the elephants at this sanctuary were rescued from one of these scenarios.






Current elephant citizens of the Wildlife Friends Foundation:
*June (rescued from an elephant camp; 75 years old!)
*Bua Ngun ("Silver Lotus;" rescued from logging, now suffers form chronic abscesses; 65 years old)
*See Puak (Former Movie Star)
*Pai Lin (Ride for Tourists, now has back problems)
*Khan Kluey (Aggressive male elephant, spirit only half broken, taught to do tricks for food; 6 years old)
*Somboon ("Perfect;" Tricks for tourists in Bangkok, hit by car, walks with limp now)




My daily schedule began at 6:30am with a designated elephant. Machete-ing banana trees for breakfast, cleaning yesterday's supper, and a wee little cuddle was just the beginning of my day's work with the ellies.


By 9am, the volunteers would hop on a pick-up truck 2.0 and go to a plantation of banana trees where we machete them down for 2 hours in the relentless sunshine. Following the hardy harvest of champions, we leaped in the river and returned to the sanctuary with elephant meals in tow.


Feeding time commences at 2 o'clock in the afternoon with another 3-5 banana trees,  cleaning, and hiding fruit for enrichment activities. By 4 o'clock, we hit them up again for another batch of trees and love.
Somewhere in-between feedings, a shower and scrub combo is given to each elephant, and some of the elephants are walked to the lake where the volunteers and elephant jump in together for a jolly good bath session.


I worked with the other wildlife for a day, and thus fed a range of monkeys, birds, a horse, and an otter.
I even had the privilege to meet the tiger named Meow who Edwin rescued 12 years ago from a man using the cub as a tourist attraction outside of a gas station. Although saved, Meow's damage was already done. The chain kept around its neck as an infant caused his spine to grow irregularly, causing him to progressively become paralyzed. His life now consists of laying on a mattress all day, moving only for his physical therapy in the lake at 10 and 2. Meow needs to be watered and turned every two hours, and the dedicated staff and volunteers pitch in with unconditional love. Watering Meow at 3am became my task, and I accepted it gratefully. Strolling through the sanctuary at this hour and seeing the elephants in the moonlight on my way to Meow was a wonder indeed...


I turn on the light to unveil the magical creature before me, panting in the Thai night heat.
His body limp, his eyes fierce with the crave of freedom. My body limp, my eyes pity, and my heart burns with rage for greed has stolen yet another undeserving life.
I stroke his paw and forehead, still stunned by the surreal reality of embracing a tiger.
A water bottle with a nozzle attached was Meow's only source for water. I poured it in his mouth as he lapped it, and when he wanted me to stop, he would gesture by lifting his head away from the bottle.


*Tyger, Tyger, Burning Bright; Greed Took You From the Forests of the Night*






There are 300 animals at this sanctuary, but just a mere 2 weeks before I arrived there were 400. Here is another heartbreaking example of the corrupt and greed-driven government in Thailand:


Edwin, the founder of WFFT, spoke out about the atrocious elephant poaching in the national park. Seeking revenge, the Department of National Parks came and asked for the paperwork for all of his 400 animals and gave him 3 hours to do so. An impossible task, the best effort was given to complete the paperwork, but 100 animals did not get done in time. The DNP used this opportunity to classify these animals as "illegally kept" and over the course of 2 weeks, confiscated them all. Volunteers looked on helplessly as men with nets incompetently captured monkeys, birds, bears, and an otter form their safe havens in the sanctuary. Monkeys that were rescued from the illegal wildlife trade were being taken right back to where they began-- and no one could stop them.


The Wildlife Friends Foundation has experienced seemingly insurmountable heartbreaks and challenges, yet somehow finds the strength to carry on and continue fighting, because if they don't fight for these animals lives....




WHO
WILL?




This was my wonderful and eye-opening two week experience working with the elephants and beyond of Thailand. I was moved in many ways...none of which I was expecting, but all of which I was grateful for.


I apologize for the depressing nature of this story, but it needs to be heard. Life, although otherwise advertised, is not always a beach. My optimistic outlook on life hasn't changed, but it certainly has been dampened and discouraged. Within that discouragement, I have also rediscovered my passion for saving animals and my heart now burns somethin' FIERCE to make a difference!




Thank you for your divided or undivided attention :)




Carry On My Wayward Sun,


Cailie Kafura!

Meow, my catalyst.

Harvest of Champions!

See Puak Scrub. 

Physical Therapy with Meow...dedication and patience.

Elephant Safari in the National Park... he charged our truck!!!

Land of Thai!

Imagine the captions you could put to this face.... this is a loris, by the way...and yes, he is real :)

See Puak Sunset.

9-month-old elephant used as a tourist attraction of money....the scars from the beating is in plain view. 

Fruit in a sack to simulate foraging.

Khan Kluey finding fruits in his lake!

Best Macaque ever.

Bua's Chronic Abcesses...they will never heal, but the vet continues to clean them twice a day.

Love me some elephants!