The Elephant Traffic Whisperer of Khao Yai – A Legend Retires

Picture courtesy of Amarin

If you’ve visited Khao Yai National Park in the past few years, you may remember a familiar figure standing calmly in the middle of the road, quietly guiding traffic, not of cars, but of elephants.

That man was Sutthiphon Sinka, affectionately known as “Plai Su”, a legendary figure among park-goers, locals and rangers alike. For over two decades, he served as Khao Yai’s unofficial “elephant traffic officer,” ensuring not only the safety of tourists but also the well-being of the park’s majestic wild elephants.

Sutthiphon began his career at Khao Yai in 1999, initially working as part of the scientific patrol team collecting data on wildlife. “I started by collecting elephant dung, building salt licks, recording animal behaviour,” he recalls. But his role soon expanded.

His superiors saw the need for someone who could manage the increasingly common encounters between elephants and tourists. That person became Sutthiphon. “Someone had to be there to keep both the people and elephants safe. If no one was watching, things would descend into chaos.”

His work was unique. He wasn’t just a ranger. He became a bridge between two worlds. “The safety of visitors always comes first. But elephants must pass me before they meet people,” he explained.

His deep knowledge of elephant behaviour, gained from years in the field, was key. “You have to know the elephants, recognise their faces, their temperament. Some are gentle, but a few, three or four in particular, are dangerous. If a tourist car tries to pass at the wrong time, it’ll get smashed. We’ve seen it happen, elephants sitting on cars, kicking bumpers. I’ve been kicked myself, thrown clear across the road. One time the car almost flipped.”

But he never held it against the elephants. “It’s not their fault,” he says simply.

100% of the elephants in Khao Yai are wild. Many wander down into local farmland in search of food, leading to conflict. Sutthiphon played a role in guiding those elephants back into the park, a difficult but necessary task.

He describes the typical herd dynamic: mostly females and young. Adult males often live solitary lives, only returning to mate before disappearing into the forest again. “They’ll stay three or four days, then vanish. You won’t see them for months.”

Khao Yai’s lush ecosystem, rich with grasses, water, and natural salt licks, makes it an ideal home. But tourists unfamiliar with the dangers sometimes try to approach elephants on foot. “That’s a big no,” warns Sutthiphon. “It’s my job to watch for that, too.”

Despite rumours, he laughs off suggestions of having a mystical connection with elephants. “No spells, no tricks. You just remember their faces, their personalities. That’s it. Know who’s safe and who’s not.”

He emphasises that the biggest danger to both wildlife and humans is speeding. “We have a 60 km/h limit for a reason. Animals cross at any time. Go slower, stay safe. Simple.”

If you find yourself face-to-face with an elephant on the road? Don’t honk. Don’t flash lights. Don’t panic. “Watch first. If it looks irritated, back up. If it’s calm, wait. If you can, turn around. Safety comes first, always.”

Sutthiphon officially retired from his post. Rumours swirled, but he left quietly, without fanfare. Still, in the minds of those who love Khao Yai, as his legacy remains.

He wasn’t just a ranger. He was a protector, a peacekeeper, and perhaps most importantly, a man who truly loved elephants.

“In this job,” he once said, “you have to love the elephants. Not chase them, not scare them off. You have to be here, every day, with food and water in your bag, ready to make it through one more day and night with them.”

And that’s exactly what he did.

  Adapted by Asean Now from Amarin 2025-06-03.