On July 12, 2017, I put my big girl pants on and boarded a plane to Chiang Mai, Thailand. I was so excited to venture across the world all by myself on a magical journey to volunteer at Elephant Nature Park (ENP). Prior to the trip, my insides were dancing a fancy jig, but my mother was extremely concerned about her post-surgical daughter going alone to South-East Asia during their rainy season. I assured her that I had no intention of sloshing around Thailand in my best Christian Louboutin shoes while attempting to hug and kiss every elephant in an underdeveloped, muddy hillside village. I am not sure if that made her feel better or worse, but I thought if the elephants can survive the Thailand rainy season then I could, too.

I booked a room in Chiang Mai near the city center for a few nights prior to volunteering with the elephants. I wanted to see the sights, visit temples, shop at the night market, and attempt to eat food in a foreign country without getting violently ill before taking a long bus ride to ENP. At the airport, I was assisted by an English-speaking woman who helped me board a shuttle to my hotel. The Thai speaking shuttle driver looked over the print out material that I had handed him with my hotel information, and the woman assured me that he knew the destination of my location.

After less than a 20-minute shuttle ride, the driver stopped on a quiet, narrow street. I had noticed there were rows and rows of long alleyways running perpendicular to the street we were driving on. In his best English sign language, he started looking at me then looking down one of the alleys while using a jerking motion with his neck in an effort to point with his forehead. He made that motion several times like a pecking hen. From what I was gathering, he wanted me to get out of the shuttle and walk the rest of the way to my hotel. If I was driving, that shuttle would most definitely fit through the narrow alleyway, but I was not willing to risk taking over the wheel. Eventually, I had to acknowledge what he was doing in fear he would accidentally smack his head on the driver side window. Hand motions would have been sufficient, but there was no way of communicating that to him without speaking loudly while over-enunciating each of my words in English as if that would help him understand me better.

I exited the shuttle with my luggage and started rolling my bags down a heavily cracked, pothole-filled, rocky side-street. I had no idea where the hell I was going, and it was not the most welcoming alleyway. There was not a hotel in site, no legible signs, nor an open gate. It was early in the day, but it was also very desolate. As I kept walking, I noticed more and more alleys off of alleys, and I was trekking quite a distance with this feeling of getting nowhere near my hotel.

After passing many alleys, I did see a woman with a food cart who was cooking and selling meat-on-a-stick. At first, I thought she was a mirage, or a figment of my imagination. Why would a woman be in an alley, off an alley, off an alley selling cooked skewers of I don’t know what, and who would be buying her impaled carcasses? No one was around….not one other person. As I was walking by her, we shared a smile and a friendly nod. I was looking as touristy as a tourist could be, off-roading my large suitcase and carry-on bag down a desolate alley.

I made it down the road about 50 yards before I heard the woman yelling. I turned around and saw she was waving for me to come back towards her. I started mentally preparing how I was going to tell this lady in my best Thai sign language that I was a vegan.

As I got closer, she began pointing her tongs towards a tall brick wall with a closed iron gate door. I continued strolling closer to her while ignoring her hand gestures. She walked out from behind her cart while doing her best interpretation of an aviation ground crew member using orange batons to guide a plane. I had no intention of walking in someone’s backyard or into a potential hell-hole. I remember getting nervous wondering if maybe she was part of a human trafficking operation abducting foreign women. For a split second I thought I might have to defend myself and knock out a 4’8” woman weighing somewhere around 90lbs. Once adjacent to each other, she gently took my arm, and with a big, bright smile she guided me to the iron gate while motioning for me to go inside.

I took a deep breath and turned the door knob unsure if it was time that I meet my maker. Once past the threshold, the imaginary carpet rolled out where I was greeted by the welcome wagon. I walked into a hidden gem with a koi pond, trickling waterfall, natural pool, Bohemian restaurant, comfortable room, and beautiful view of a temple. I was just where I was supposed to be, in paradise at Green Tiger Vegetarian Hotel, Chiang Mai, Thailand.

Where do I begin…..

I have been trying to get into a normal routine since my post-op surgery and recovery phase. I returned home on March 22, 2017, but I was still doing extensive home IV therapy treatment that lasted through the month of April. My determination to put the chordoma saga behind me has been very challenging. I stopped journaling because I wanted a break from thinking about having a chordoma. It has been a headache (literally). I have not wanted to place any focus or thought on how I got bushwhacked by a very uncommon spinal tumor. I have been full-force, dealing with it for the last year, and it is not over.

Part of getting my abnormally-normal life back meant returning to the dance class that I love so much. The last time I had danced was December 31, 2016, the day I found out about the skull based tumor compressing on my brain. I looked at my phone in the middle of class that Saturday, New Year’s Eve, and I saw a missed call from my doctor. Needless to say, I knew he was calling about the MRI results from the brain scan I had done the day prior. I walked out of dance class, made a few phone calls, cried a little, and my fight began.

In May I attempted to start dancing again. I attended one class, but became concerned about whirling and flipping around a pole with the possibility of landing on my head. Considering I am known for being a graceful, delicate flower, a slight mishap was not totally out of the question. I had lost 20lbs since surgery, I was anemic, weak, and utterly bummed out that my strength was not back to the way it was prior to my dance hiatus. I was not ready to include dancing in my daily regimen.

Up until January 1, 2017, I had never had anything occur in my life that senselessly knocked me on my ass for a long period of time. Roller derby knocked me on my ass many o’times, but that was to be expected. I was used to being able to bounce right back immediately after mishaps took place.

I disliked being down and was determined to get my freedom back, especially since I started to have constant, daily headaches that had me eating Tylenol and Ibuprofen as if they were the only items that I stocked in my cupboard. I felt trapped by my pain and weakness. I made the decision to get working on my bucket list instead. I started to think about not wanting to have any regrets, and I did not want to wait until it was too late to act on the things I aspired to do in this lifetime.

It was 4:29am on May 20, 2017, and I could not sleep. It just so happened, the night before I had the TV on while I was cooking dinner. National Geographic was airing an episode about Lek Chailert, the founder of Elephant Nature Park in Chiang Mai, Thailand. I was glued to the TV watching one of my heroes, Lek Chailert, share her life-story about opening an elephant sanctuary and rescuing elephants. She went against the village norm by being an independent woman and saving the lives of what the surrounding villagers used for profit. Elephants in captivity are a huge income source for entertainment, working, logging, and tourism. I will bypass the inhumane treatment part and how baby elephants have their spirits broken to be used in such ways. Lek has been very courageous to stand up for elephants and provide a safe-haven for many mistreated, abused, and gravely injured majestic creatures to live out their remaining years in a peaceful and safe environment.

National Geographic did a beautiful job capturing the loving bond shared between Lek and the elephants. It was obvious the elephants recognized her as someone very special, and it was heart-warming to see how affectionate the elephants were as if showing immense gratitude. Elephant Nature Park was undoubtedly on my bucket list of places to visit. Since I was unable to sleep that night, I opened my computer, and without putting too much thought into it I booked a 2-week trip to volunteer at Elephant Nature Park in Chiang Mai, Thailand.