Chapter 26 — Where Old Elephants Rest

Three months after signing the agreement with Hoang Kim Group, Chu Rinh elephant sanctuary has taken on a new look, although it still retains the core spirit that Mr. Thach has built for thirty years. The red dirt road leading to the camp is now covered with a more solid layer of crushed stone, thanks to investment from the new funding source, making moving food, medicine, and tourists to visit much more convenient than before.

The responsible observation tourism model, after many months of careful preparation, officially went into trial operation with a limited number of visitors per day. Different from the image of noisy elephant-riding groups that Ha Lam has witnessed in many other places, tourist groups to Chu Rinh are guided by guides - mostly young men from Chu Rinh village trained by Y Khun - along carefully planned trails, keeping a safe and respectful distance from the elephants, only observing and taking photos from afar, and participating in activities such as preparing food or learning about each elephant's behavior through stories told by Ha Lam or Bay himself. Kinh recounted.

"This is exactly how humans should interact with wild animals," one foreign visitor wrote in the camp's scrapbook after the tour, "seeing them live according to their instincts, not forced to do anything against nature."

Revenue from the new model, although still modest compared to traditional elephant riding tourist areas, has begun to create a stable source of income, shared fairly according to the agreed ratio between the camp and Chu Rinh village, helping many families in the village earn additional income from the role of tour guides, chefs serving traditional meals tourists, or producing souvenir handicrafts.

Y Khun, who has now become a familiar face leading tourist groups, often ends each tour with a story about the camp's history, including the imperfect parts of the past, seeing it as a lesson in honesty and reconciliation that he wants to convey to visitors.

"Many people ask me why I even tell bad stories about the past to guests," he shared with Ha Lam on a rare free evening. "But I think, it is that honesty that creates the true value of this place. Anyone can build a beautiful sanctuary, but not everyone dares to tell the whole truth about the past journey."

Bui Xuan Mai, in his new role as head of communications and community development, has successfully built a specialized social network channel for the observation tourism model, regularly posting stories about each elephant and each member of the camp team, attracting an increasingly large number of loyal followers. Many of them, after watching from afar via social networks, decided to arrange time to come to see for themselves what they read, contributing to a steady increase in the number of visitors month by month while still maintaining the necessary control to not overload the elephant herd.

Bay Kinh, despite his old age, still takes on the role of technical advisor to the team of young mahouts newly recruited from Chu Rinh village, passing on every bit of valuable experience accumulated over decades of working with the profession. He often joked that he could now "semi-retire", just sit around and teach the young people, instead of having to do everything himself like before.

As for the traditional house project that Mr. Thach proposed, the main frame has now been completed and is expected to be inaugurated in the next few months. Inside, the first artifacts have been carefully arranged - Mr. Thach's old notebook, a black-and-white photo of him and old Ama Rin from the early days, and even a set of traditional elephant taming tools of the M'nong people given by the Ama Not family for display.

Mr. Thach, although his health continues to decline with age, still tries to visit the project once a week, standing and admiring every detail being built, his eyes filled with a contentment that Ha Lam has rarely seen in him in recent years.

"I didn't expect that I would live to see this dream come true," he told Ha Lam one afternoon standing in front of an unfinished project. "Thank you, daughter, for not giving up, even when I thought everything was falling apart."

One afternoon, while checking the progress of a traditional house project, Ha Lam received a phone call from a wildlife conservation research center based in Hanoi, inviting her to participate in a national conference on animal conservation models associated with indigenous communities, sharing practical experiences from Chu Rinh camp with other conservation units across the country.

"They said their model could become a reference model for many other places, especially areas with similar conflicts between conservation and minority community rights," Ha Lam told the group during dinner, her voice still a bit surprised by this unexpected opportunity.

"This is great, Ms. Lam," Xuan Mai exclaimed excitedly. "Not only does it help our camp become more widely known, but it can also help many other places learn from experience and avoid repeating the mistakes we have experienced."

Mr. Thach, listening from the head of the table, nodded in agreement. "I always believe that every story, no matter how painful, is valuable if it helps others avoid the same mistake. You should accept, daughter, that is also a way for the story of your family, of the whole Chu Rinh village, to spread positive values further."

The lives of Ha Lam and Tuan Khoi, between the busy work of camp management and his periodic business trips to other conservation areas in the Central Highlands region, gradually entered a stable and warm rhythm. He moved to live in a small house built next to the executive building, just a few steps from Ha Lam's house, close enough to be able to share every meal together, every evening to sit by a small fire and watch the stars, but also private enough for each person to still keep their own space.

"Have you thought about what we will be like in five years?" Tuan Khoi asked one night, when they were both sitting on the familiar steps, looking out at the elephant field in peaceful darkness.

Ha Lam smiled, resting her head on his shoulder. "I thought, maybe our camp would get bigger, a few more old elephants would be rescued here, more Chu Rinh trading families would join. And I thought," she hesitated a bit, "I hope you're still here, sitting next to me like this."

"I hope the same," Tuan Khoi replied, his voice sincere. "Actually, I was hoping for more than that, but perhaps, I'll save it for another more appropriate occasion to talk about."

That unfinished sentence made Ha Lam curious, but she didn't ask further, just smiled, enjoying the rare moment of peace in the midst of a busy life with so many responsibilities waiting ahead.

Sao Mai, now fifty-six years old, also seemed to sense a positive change in the general atmosphere of the camp. It eats and drinks more regularly, its gait is slow but steady, and in the late afternoons, it often stands next to Vang under the familiar old tree, sometimes even gently swaying its trunk to a unique rhythm that Bay Kinh still jokes that is how it "dances to celebrate" in the style of an elephant.

Every morning, before starting work, Ha Lam still keeps her old habit from childhood - spending a quiet moment just to stand and look at the elephants, doing nothing, just to fully feel the peace that she and so many people have had to exchange so much effort, tears, and sleepless nights to preserve until today.

Some mornings, Tuan Khoi stood next to her in that quiet moment, the two of them didn't need to say anything, just each other's presence was enough to fully feel the meaning of what they were building together. Some mornings, Bay Kinh worked hard to make a pot of tea and bring it out for both of them, telling a few old stories that he suddenly remembered while watching the elephants leisurely graze. And there are also mornings when Mr. Thach, even though his steps are much slower than before, still tries to stand with his cane with his daughter, looking toward the future that his whole family, along with the entire Chu Rinh trading community, have continued to write together through their own tireless efforts.