Long sticks, small balls... Its Jumbo Fun
ELEPHANT dung looks alarmingly like piles of coconuts, brown and
stringy. And if it wasn't for the stench, you could be forgiven for
thinking the dung piles had been laid out on the footpath in the fashion
of fruit stalls throughout Sri Lanka.
A trail of these nut look-a-likes lead to Dharmapala Park in Galle,
where there is further evidence of the great beasts: huge branches are
strewn everywhere and half-munched leaves litter the path. Another pile
of dung forms a neat pyramid nearby, but doesn't seem to bother a local
man sleeping on an adjacent bench.
Through the morning haze the culprits reveal themselves. In front of
the city's famous fort they amble across a dusty field, each animal
supporting its mahout (rider) and a strange passenger. These men wear
leather riding boots and khaki pants. Donning Livingstone-style pith
helmets, they look ready for a Tiger hunt. But not a blunderbuss is to
be seen, instead, each is armed with a giant mallet fashioned from
bamboo.
Elephant polo was invented in Nepal in 1982 by the expatriate
Englishman Jim Edwards and his good friend James Manclark. Edwards, tall
and with the air of a retired explorer, obviously relishes retelling the
tale.
"One day at my place in Nepal, James said to me: 'Jim, you have
elephants, lets play polo on them'. A few months later I received a
telegram from him sent from the airport that said, 'get the elephants
ready, I have long sticks and small balls'."
The rest is elephant-polo history. Initially the game was only played
socially by the two friends, but gradually it spread to the other places
in Asia where elephants live.
Today, tournaments are also held in Nepal, Thailand and Sri Lanka.
The Sri Lankan city of Galle is playing host to the fifth annual CEPA
Taprobane Cup, CEPA standing for Ceylon Elephant Polo Association (even
though the country has been known as Sri Lanka since 1972) and Taprobane
being a local island.
Last year was meant to be the fifth time the tournament was
contested, but the Boxing Day tsunami forced its postponement. This
year, five teams are here, representing Sri Lanka, Hong Kong, Singapore,
Scotland and England. Team selection is casual and numbers are not
limited to those who hail from within a country's borders; most are
expat Brits working in these former colonial outposts.
Played like the other polo, the aim is to hit the ball through the
goals, which measure about two metres in width. It is not quite as fast
or furious as it might be on a horse, but has oodles of novelty value.
The snooty commentator blasts the rules through the loudspeakers.
"Three elephants per side, with a maximum of five players; each chukka
(playing period) is to last seven minutes; elephants are forbidden from
handling the ball with their trunks.
"Gentlemen may only use their right hand, ladies may use both."
Then comes the call of the day, sending the crowd into raptures: "If
unsure, the umpire himself will determine the sex of the player."
When the Dutch built Galle fort, they never would have suspected that
one day it would be used by the locals to watch polo being played on
elephants.
Colonial rulers of the island's coast from 1658 to 1796, they
enlarged a former Portuguese garrison to build the fort.
Under the influence of the Dutch East India Company the town was
turned into a major port, where the lucrative spices of Asia were loaded
onto ships and sent off to Europe.
Today, the 36-hectare fort is a UNESCO World Heritage site, and
arguably the finest colonial structure on the island. Inside, life is
delightfully slow, houses with peeling white paint offer glimpses
through doors of family life, scarcely changed since the Dutch were
here.
Cats lie idle in the midday sun, while ancient bicycles clatter along
the narrow lanes. From a primary school the soft drones of a piano
permeate the street.
The Dutch fort has never been attacked by another army, the only
assault coming in the form of the mighty wave on December 26, 2004.
Back at the polo, the Sri Lankan team known as the Taprobane Tuskers
have been the early standouts, brilliantly led by Jim Edwards' son
Kristjan, who has obviously learned a few tricks from his old man. The
crowds favourites are the all-female team from England known as the Free
Nellies who wear matching pink uniforms and ribbons.
The riders seem much more interested in the contest than the
elephants themselves. Ambling slowly after the little white ball, they
yearn for full-time, when in the pitch-side tubs of water mean, the real
fun can begin.
After two days of competition, the grand final is held. The makeshift
grandstands nearly full, locals watch from the ramparts above, tucked
under umbrellas where once cannons would have perched. Tickle and the
Ivories from Singapore are up against the reigning champions and local
hope, the Taprobane Tuskers.
The Singaporeans have the better of the first half, leading 3-0. But
elephant polo is very much a game of two chukkas; the elephants change
sides during the interval, so no player is ever stuck with a less than
enthusiastic steed.
Before play resumes a bizarre performance sees a Sri Lankan marching
band dressed in kilts trumpet their way across the arena. After they
finish, four tourists invent their own version of the game, piggyback
polo with an apple core for a ball.
In the second chukka the Lankans come out firing, a brilliant display
by Edwards jnr resulting in three quick goals. With 45 seconds
remaining, the scores are level in surely the most nail-biting elephant
polo match ever played. After another dashing segment of play, Kristjan
Edwards scores, shortly after sealing the match with his 18th goal of
the tournament. Final score, 5-3 to the Tuskers.
The fans begin to leave after the trophy presentation. Rubbish is
collected from the stands while the elephants take a well-earned bath.
Spectators look happy, bored, or confused - but as they file out of
the gate I notice they maintain one aspect in common; all are treading
carefully, to avoid any unfortunate encounter with a coconut impostor.
(Sydney Morning Herald)
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