A Day with Tamba: A Sanctuary Experience
The air is different here. It’s not just the scent of fresh earth and rain-soaked grass, but a feeling of peace that settles over you as you walk into the sanctuary. You're not here as a spectator, but as a guest in their home. And today, you have an appointment with a gentle giant named Tamba.
The Introduction
You first see her from a distance, a majestic silhouette moving gracefully under the shade of a large tree. Her keeper, a patient individual who speaks in soft, reassuring tones, tells you her story. Tamba might have been rescued from logging, or from a life of begging on city streets. Here, she is safe. She is not a performer; she is a resident, a survivor. You learn to approach not as a dominant figure, but as a respectful friend, letting her trunk investigate you first—a soft, curious sniff that feels like an honor.
The Connection
Spending time with Tamba isn't about riding or seeing tricks. It's about mutual discovery.
The Feed: You offer her a piece of fruit—a ripe banana or a sweet watermelon rind. Her trunk, incredibly dextrous and sensitive, gently curls around the offering from your open palm. You feel the light brush of her skin, rough yet surprisingly soft in places, and hear the contented, deep rumble from her stomach—a sound of pure pleasure.
The Scratch: Her keeper shows you a spot she loves—behind an ear, at the base of her trunk. You gently scratch the thick, wrinkled skin. She sways slowly, her eyes half-closing in bliss. In that moment, you’re not a tourist; you’re a trusted friend helping with an itch she can’t quite reach.
The Walk: You might take a walk with her through the sanctuary grounds. There’s no hurry. She sets the pace, stopping to pull down a choice branch with her trunk or to spray a shower of dust over her back. You walk beside her, a tiny companion to a magnificent creature, sharing a quiet moment of coexistence.
The Lesson
The most powerful part of the day isn't the photo you take (though you’ll treasure it), but the feeling it leaves you with. It’s the profound respect for her intelligence, her emotional depth, and her sheer, awe-inspiring presence. You see the bond of trust she shares with her caregivers, a bond built on kindness, not fear.
As you say a soft goodbye, watching Tamba amble back towards her herd, you carry a piece of her story with you. It’s a story of second chances, of compassion, and of the quiet, magnificent moments that happen when we choose to simply be with an animal, on their terms.
It was more than just "spending time." It was a privilege. A memory etched not just in your camera, but in your heart.
