It was my last night in Kanchanaburi when an Aussie first told me about the “morning session” at the nearby Tiger Temple. Breakfast with monks, playing with baby tigers in a pool, watching full grown tigers wrestle with each other a mere meter away from you. It seemed too good to be true, but based on his seemingly honest persona, and the potential for his story to be as unbelievable as it sounded, I decided to stay an extra night to check it out.
There really isn’t a proper way to describe the experience of bottle feeding 2 and 4 month old tigers. Nor is there a good term to describe the experience of playing with the baby tigers in and out of the water, watching full grown tigers duke it out from a couple feet away, walking a full grown tiger on a leash by yourself, and laying next to one as it sleeps with your head resting on it’s paws. I could try to use the term incredible, surreal, fantastic, or unbelievable; those words do a fair job of explaining the trip, but I’d have to recommend trying it for yourself. Just don’t talk while the monks are saying prayer, they really don’t like when you do that. Did I mention the place is run by monks?
After playing with the baby tigers for an hour, the guides led myself and the 3 other visitors down a dirt path towards a large natural pool enclosed by sheer rock cliffs on three sides. Here, at the edge of the pool, Ryan, a Canadian, and lead trainer at the Tiger Temple, drew a five foot circle in the sand. “Stay in here and you’ll be safe” says Ryan. “We train the tigers to never enter this circle, even if there are no visitors in the morning, we have staff stand in the circle so the tigers know to never enter it. You’ll be fine, but never turn your back to them.” Ryan looks us in the eye and with a more serious tone says “Tigers are opportunistic animals, if they see you’re not looking at them, they’ll pounce. You’ll be fine in the circle, but do not turn your back to them. Never turn your back. Okay?” “I got it” I say with a hint of nervousness. I hear a shout from further up the path, as eight tigers come charging around the corner towards us. The tigers bound right past me, jumping full speed into the pool. There, for the next 45 minutes, these enormous adult tigers play uninhibited. As one tackles another into the pool and water splashes all over me, I look panicked down at the circle to see if the line is still visible in the sand. “You’re an idiot” I think to myself. I’m pretty sure that a break in the line surrounding me (made by a stick), won’t suddenly inspire the tigers to pounce. I try to relax a bit and embrace the surreal sight unfolding in front of me. That is, until Ryan spoke up again.
“Nan got dragged in a couple days ago” says Ryan. “Who?” I ask. “Say hi Nan!” (Nan waves to us from a precarious position on the far side of the pool). “He drew the short straw today” says Ryan, “It’s a bad spot, no one wants to be there because the tigers can come at you from both sides.” “Why is he there then?” I ask. “Well, the tigers kept biting the water pump back there. But Nan actually got dragged in from here (he points to about two feet in front of me). It was two mornings ago and we didn’t have any visitors. That guy (pointing to a tiger a few meters in front of us) came out, grabbed him by the legs and dragged him under the water like a crocodile.” At this point Ryan is chuckling when he looks over to see my face filled with alarm. “After a few seconds when Nan didn’t come up and the tiger was on top of him we decided we should probably do something.” Still with a huge grin on his face, Ryan again turns and sees my shocked expression. “I guess what we find funny around here most people don’t. Nothing a little iodine and a quick hospital trip couldn’t fix!”
As the tigers grew tired, one by one they were coaxed out of the pool and trainers walked them back up the path for their morning meal. Each day, Ryan tries to pick the most docile tiger and the morning session group takes turns walking him on a leash back up to the compound. As I grabbed hold of the leash for my turn, I couldn’t help but admire his size and power. If the tiger was in the mood to hurt me, I’d have absolutely no chance to stop him. Instead of fear though, I felt admiration and awe. I’m glad I listened to that Aussie back at the bar, because this was an opportunity I’m sure happy I took.