BARDIYA, Nepal — Ram Raj Dhakal, 22, jolts awake to an alert on his phone. A wild elephant has strayed into a village near Thakurdwara, on the fringes of Bardiya National Park. At 11 p.m. in Nepal’s southern jungles of Bardiya, the air is finally cool after a scorching day, carrying the scent of damp grass. Dhakal quickly alerts his friend, hops onto a motorbike, and speeds through the foggy winter night. When they arrive, chaos unfolds before them. Frightened villagers, armed with fire torches, yell and wave their arms to drive the elephant away. The massive creature lurches forward, agitated. Dhakal and his friend Chaudhary launch a drone into the air. The loud buzzing mimics the sound of a swarm of bees, one of the few things elephants fear. Slowly, the elephant retreats, disappearing back into the jungle. Another night, another crisis averted. Local foraging for mushrooms in the community forest. Image by Tulsi Rauniyar for Mongabay. For the past two years, this has been a part of their job for the four months after the monsoon, the period when elephant incursions peak as the pachyderms raid farms, destroy crops, and sometimes enter villages or homes for food. Dhakal is lithe, his frame built more for agility than brute strength. At first glance, he hardly looks like someone who could stand his ground against a wild elephant. Yet, in the dense grasslands of Bardiya, he and his friends have taken on the daunting task of driving them away. They’re…This article was originally published on Mongabay
Photos: The volunteers standing guard at one of Nepal’s human-wildlife frontiers
