By Michelle Htway
Over the years, I have traveled to many places. Like most travelers, I have seen breathtaking landscapes, tasted authentic cuisines, and brought back countless photographs. Yet, if you were to ask me today about some of these trips, I might have trouble remembering much more than this: It was wonderful, we did so many things. »
At some point, I realized that I wanted my travels to leave me with more than just images. That's how I learned to travel with meaning.
Instead of asking myself, "What should I see here?", I began to ask myself a different question: "Who can I meet? How might my visit have, even a small, positive impact?" This question led me to the heart of a peaceful forest in the Mondulkiri in Cambodia, meeting three elephants who, without making a sound, transformed my way of thinking about travel.
The elephant sanctuary of Mondulkiri Project is run by a deeply committed local Cambodian team whose work goes far beyond simply creating a memorable experience for visitors. Each visit helps fund the care of rescued elephants, while also ensuring sustainable livelihoods for the people who look after them.
In this nature reserve, wild animals are not considered an attraction. The project allows elephants to live as they should: free to move around, rest, and choose whether or not they wish to interact with visitors.
Before we entered the forest, our guide told us the story of the elephants, as well as the challenges of protecting them. His knowledge didn't come from books. It was the result of years spent exploring these forests, observing the personality of each elephant, and gradually gaining its trust.
Listening to him, I understood that supporting local tourism isn't just about thinking about where we spend our money. It's also about recognizing the women and men whose dedication allows these places to continue to thrive.
Then came the time to meet Happy.
Happy
Our first encounter was with Happy, a 45-year-old elephant whose story was as heartbreaking as it was inspiring.
Happy had been forced to haul enormous tree trunks through the jungle, often under cover of night, because illegal logging couldn't take place during daylight hours. This relentless workload eventually broke her right shoulder. When rescuers found her, she was suffering from severe malnutrition. She was nothing but skin and bones and so weak that even the veterinarians doubted her chances of survival.
Today, Happy lives freely in the forest.
To meet her, we had to walk through the woods carrying bananas to please her. Then, almost as if by magic, she appeared. As soon as she saw us, she started walking towards us, almost running. She knew perfectly well what we were carrying.
Standing beside such a majestic animal inspires humility. Despite everything humans had put her through, Happy remained incredibly gentle. She took our bananas with surprising delicacy, let us stroke her trunk, and wandered peacefully around us, as if we were merely guests in her home.
One moment in particular made everyone smile.
Among the thousands of trees in the forest, Happy went straight to one of them to scratch her back. By rubbing herself against it for years, she had torn off a large part of the bark and tinted the trunk with that red earth so characteristic of Mondulkiri.
It was clearly his favorite tree to scratch himself against.
Then, as if to remind us how intelligent elephants are, she picked up a dry branch with her trunk and used it to scratch herself even more.
Watching her, I couldn't help but think about everything she'd been through. She had every reason to keep her distance from humans. Yet, she came towards us curiously and gently took the bananas from our hands. That moment has stayed with me forever.
We sometimes think we're the ones helping rescued animals by visiting places like this. But standing near Happy, I realized that she was the one teaching me something: that healing is possible and that trust, once lost, can slowly be rebuilt.
Watching her simply live her life as an elephant, free to roam the forest according to her own choices, gave the impression of witnessing freedom itself.
Princess and Comvine
Later, we crossed a small stream to reach the other two elephants.
Princess is believed to be around 80 years old and is completely blind. According to the project team, she spent many years transporting tourists, without any real opportunity to rest or receive the care she needed.
Over time, she lost her sight. She now depends on the support of another elephant to move safely through the forest. That elephant is Comvine.
Comvine is 38 years old. She was separated from her mother when she was very young and forced to work before she even had the chance to simply be an elephant. Today, however, she has found what she had been missing all her life: a family. She rarely leaves Princess.
When we first met Comvine, she happily accepted a banana, before suddenly thumping the ground twice with her trunk. I remember looking at our guide, wondering what she was doing. A few moments later, Princess slowly emerged from among the trees. Only then did I understand. Comvine wasn't asking for more food; she was calling Princess. She was showing her exactly where she was.
Watching Princess slowly make her way toward the sound her companion made was one of the most moving moments of the day. Throughout their time together, Comvine stayed close by, silently guiding Princess through the forest, across streams, and along narrow paths. Princess followed with complete trust.
I couldn't help but smile. They weren't together because someone had forced them to be. They had chosen each other. After everything they had lost, they had found comfort, security, and a true presence in each other's company.
Travel often leads us to discover remarkable places. On that day, the travel allowed me to witness one of the most beautiful friendships I have ever seen.
Much more than just an encounter with elephants
After our morning walk, we returned to base camp for lunch.
The meal was simple: a meat soup prepared in the local style, stir-fried vegetables, and steamed rice. Nothing fancy, but it was one of those meals that seems particularly delicious after a morning spent in the forest. Perhaps it was the fresh air. Or perhaps food always tastes better when it's prepared with care.
After lunch, we relaxed in hammocks overlooking the valleys and mountains of Mondulkiri. The cool breeze was so gentle that many of us dozed off.
When we woke up, freshly brewed local coffee was waiting for us. It wasn't the strongest coffee I've ever tasted, but sitting there with a hot cup in my hands, facing the forest, it seemed perfect.
Later in the afternoon, we walked to a nearby waterfall.
Before we set off, our guide reminded us of an essential rule. The elephants would decide for themselves whether they wanted to accompany us. Nothing would ever be forced. I smiled, because that simple sentence alone summed up everything this project represented.
We waded into the cool water, hoping the elephants would join us. A few minutes later, we heard footsteps behind us. Comvine and Princess appeared. Comvine and Princess had come to join the bath. Or, to be perfectly honest… they might have just come for more bananas. Our guide burst out laughing, reached into his bag, and pulled out a few extra treats.
We soon began feeding them, gently letting water trickle over their backs. They stayed close to us, enjoying the coolness of the water. For a few moments, we no longer felt like we were observing wild animals, but rather that we had been welcomed into their world.
Standing alongside animals weighing several tons should have been intimidating. Yet, I felt profoundly at peace.
Why I travel with meaning
I have visited many magnificent places. I have witnessed spectacular sunsets, admired famous monuments, and tasted wonderful food. These are beautiful memories. But if you were to ask me today about many of these trips, I might only remember one sentence: It was magnificent. »
Mondulkiri is different. I remember Happy running towards us because she recognized the bananas. I remember her favorite tree, in the middle of the forest, against which she loved to scratch herself. I remember Comvine stamping the ground twice before Princess slowly appeared between the trees. I remember our guide proudly recounting the stories of these elephants he knew so well. I remember the home-cooked lunch, the hammock, the mountain breeze, and that simple cup of local coffee. It's these little moments that have stayed with me.
That's why I believe in meaningful travel.
When we travel with intention, we don't just visit a place: we create a connection with it. We support the local people who care for it, we discover its stories, and we leave with something far more precious than photographs.
I left Mondulkiri with beautiful images. But above all, I left with hope. Hope that more travelers will choose experiences where the well-being of wild animals is paramount. Hope that more people will support local conservation initiatives. And hope that one day, stories like those of Happy, Princess, and Comvine will no longer be the reality for any elephant, anywhere in the world.
Because the most beautiful journeys aren't measured by the number of places we've visited. They're measured by the stories that continue to live in our hearts, long after we return. For me, that's what meaningful travel truly means.
Photos: Michelle Htway
