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Tiger Temple

1/3/2009

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I didn’t think we would be able to go in with the tigers at the “tiger temple” because dress code applied—and I was not dressed for the occasion. I had on shorts and a bright pink tank top, so Del ended up buying me a ridiculous looking wrap (they were technically pants—about 3XL in size, I would guess). After having two girls wrap the thing around me, I donned a friend’s black jacket to cover my pink tank (which would apparently make the tigers even more eager to maul me) and we entered the reserve.


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I was the first to enter the tiger enclosure. Suddenly, I was pulled through the gate by a staff member and taken to the first enormous tiger. “Sit!” I was instructed, and then pushed down into the dirt. One of my legs was pulled straight out into what I assumed was supposed to be a casual pose. Then the worker grabbed the tiger’s neck, heaved the mass into my lap, and quickly placed my hands, one on the beast’s shoulders, the other under his chin. Mechanically, I started to pet the huge cat, and a second later my arm was grabbed, hard, and “NO!” shouted in my face. The temple holds these sessions in the hottest part of the day, so I guess I should have figured out myself that if I have a sleeping tiger in my lap, I should probably not move. I tried not to look startled at being screamed at, and instead looked at my camera (which was being operated by another staff member) to begin my photo shoot. “Stand!” I was instructed seconds later as someone grabbed my arm and pulled me up. Then the process started over again.

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After I posed with 2 or 3 of the cats, the lady who was leading me around started laughing at me. Then another other lady joined her. She chuckled something in Thai to her friend, while pointing to my rear-end. I turned around to notice my newly purchased pants were all but falling off (revealing my forbidden shorts), and after the woman got a hold of herself, she tied it back up for me. This happened 5 or 6 times, and each time, the women laughed even harder. Finally the two pointed at my getup and said “how much?” in English. “200 Baht” I muttered, embarrassed. They burst into laughter, but this time I decided to join them—after all, I wasn’t going to let a wardrobe malfunction ruin the best time of my life.

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I thought the photo op was over, but then I was led over to a tiger that was as much like the other tigers as a Great Dane was to a Chihuahua, and I was suddenly given a new command: “LIE DOWN!”


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A push, and the next thing I knew, I was lying down on my side, with the giant tiger right behind me! My head was resting on his massive paw, and a monk grabbed its other paw and put it on my head! The fur was coarse and thick, and the weathered pads were warm against my cheek. Attempting to smile for the camera, my mind was racing: are tigers the kind of animal that can sense when something is nervous, like a horse? If so, I was in big trouble because I could hear my heart thumping in beat with my camera shutter. All it would take would be for the tiger to extend its claws and my face would be maimed forever! While I was considering this fact with a terrified grin plastered on my face, I was commanded, “STAND!” and was quickly helped up and led back towards the gate.

I left the park a little dazed at the surreal experience, and glanced down at my hand—knuckles white from holding the camera so tightly. With so many legal issues in the States, Americans would never be allowed to have close contact with such a dangerous and rare animal, and I knew that the pictures on my camera would be my only proof once back home.


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Tell me what you think! Logan@wannabenomad.com