Although calm is gradually returning to the Ceuta border, many local residents still feel anxious amid ongoing fears about illegal migration.
Spain's government said around 2,000 undocumented migrants remain in Ceuta, while local authorities estimate the number could be as high as 3,000 to 5,000.
On Tuesday, Spanish Interior Minister Fernando Grande-Marlaska said that around 70,000 of the roughly 72,000 migrants who crossed into Spain's North African enclave of Ceuta from Morocco last week have since returned to Morocco.
In response to the border crisis, Spain has installed a 500-meter-long pneumatic barrier in the waters between Ceuta and Morocco. The barrier stands 30 to 70 centimeters above water and extends about a meter below, aiming to create a physical boundary at sea for law enforcement to better manage the situation.
According to Spain's Guardia Civil officers stationed at one of the main border gates, many of the migrants who entered Ceuta illegally in recent days have largely returned to Morocco through this gate, and the area has now returned to relative calm.
Among those who recently crossed is 23-year-old Abdul Karim, who, along with friends, swam for over three hours from Morocco last weekend before reaching Ceuta. For now, he is sheltering in a temporary city center facility, waiting to learn what comes next.
"We want to go to mainland Spain to work. It's hard to find jobs in Morocco, so we hope to find work in Spain. Swimming here was very difficult. At one point, I thought I was going to drown. Some people just disappeared while trying to swim across," he said.
In the center of Ceuta, some shops have reopened for business, but many storefronts remain shuttered and police patrols are still a common sight. For this city, which relies heavily on cross-border trade, port logistics, and tourism, the impact of the migrant crisis is likely to linger for some time to come.
Ceuta, located on the Mediterranean coast of northwestern Africa near the Strait of Gibraltar, borders Morocco. The recent surge of illegal crossings from the Moroccan side has triggered the most severe border migration crisis Spain has faced in recent years.
Locals remain worried even as Ceuta border tensions ease
Thailand's rural tradition of elephant stewardship is rapidly vanishing as livelihoods change and younger people pursue opportunities elsewhere, threatening centuries of irreplaceable elephant-care knowledge.
For generations, mahouts in the region have passed on their tradition of closely bonding with the elephants they care for. Taweesuk Lapsan is one of a dwindling number of mahouts who diligently carry on the practice.
Long before the sun rises over the fields, he was already at work, gathering bundles of food for an animal that had been part of his family for generations.
"We've had elephants since our grandparents' and great-grandparents' generations. We've been around elephants our whole lives, so we have a strong connection and experience in raising them. That's how we've been able to live with them like this," the mahout said.
Caring for his elephant was not merely a job, but an inherited way of life. Years of daily coexistence forged an intimate bond defined by an intuitive understanding of subtle movements, sounds, and hesitations that take a lifetime to master.
"We live together like this. It's like a family. We're like family; we always go through things together. Until we breathe our last, it just depends on who lives longer," said Taweesuk.
Mahouts and elephants have been woven into parts of Thailand's cultural landscape, from rural livelihoods and traditional practices. However, the tradition has been upended by the collapse of the commercial logging industry and the rapid expansion of tourism.
As fewer young people follow in their families' footsteps, conservationists warned that an intricate system of animal care, refined over centuries, faces gradual extinction.
"When a mahout disappears, they are replaced by people who simply come in to take care of the elephants, essentially, elephant keepers. There are differences in terms of the bond between the keeper and the elephant, the cultural aspects, and the passing down of knowledge and traditions from one generation to the next. So we are concerned about the quality," said Parntep Ratanakorn, Secretary General of the Asian Elephant Foundation of Thailand.
Taweesuk said that his daughters may choose paths far removed from the stables, a decision he fully respects. As the practice fades, experts warn the loss extends far beyond a vanishing cultural heritage, threatening the daily welfare safety nets upon which captive elephants rely.
Thailand's centuries-old elephant care tradition face extinction as livelihoods change
