They were no longer in the camp. So, armed with a few photographs and no knowledge of Thai, we started asking around. ("Asking" in this context, means pointing at a picture and looking questioning.) Remarkably enough, we almost immediately found a young woman who told us that they had moved to another camp a few miles away.

Here is a fact to file away: there are few things more cute than sixty Thai kindergarteners taking a nap on the floor. Somehow we failed to get a photograph of this, so you will just have to make do with the picture of the living accommodation on the right. This was a vast improvement on the tiny tents that people had been living in previously. Each family has a room about fifteen foot square, basic cooking facilities, and electricity. Despite the drainage channels, though, they flood in heavy rain.

We found Neung, and despite our best efforts to persuade those in charge to let her sleep, they woke her up so she could take us to her grandmother. She didn't recognize us initially, but was quite excited to see the photograph of her and me (yes, that one back there).

And so, with the help of mobile phones and a Thai/English interpreter in Adelaide, we communicated to Sanam that we wanted to know if we could help in any way. They were, it turned out, indeed open to help. Sanam was very subdued, though, for she had just been to Takua Pa (a town just to the north), supposedly to identify her daughter's body. When they went to show her the body it simply wasn't there for some reason. Identification of bodies, both Thai and foreign, has been a real struggle, and continues to this day.

So it was clearly time to take Neung on an elephant ride.