We returned around dusk to a guard instructing the disembarked crowd to stay put.

Finally, he shouted: "Go!"

So we did. As fast as we could.

Suddenly, another guard emerged, sprinting toward us, yelling: "Go back!"

So we did. As fast as we could.

Behind him, a massive gray form materialized mid-ground, filling in the cracks in the foreground's green foliage. Mom's cast click-clacked as she cumbersomely - yet swiftly - clopped toward safety.

Our second race to the platform's security was successful.

We stood on the elevated bridges, wondering how we were going to make it out of the jungle to catch our flight to Sichuan's provincial capital Chengdu in the morning.

That's when I noticed a monkey in our room. I leapt between it and our possessions, arms outstretched at my sides like a point guard.

The gibbon scurried out, snatched a takeout box from the trashcan and leaped onto a nearby branch. A passing cleaner casually whapped the leftovers out of the primate's paws with a flick of the broom resting on her shoulder, hardly even looking at the animal. The creature blasted up the tree, then scuttled out of sight.

We spent the night drinking with the guards and watching the elephants by flashlight.

The next morning we awoke to find the massive mammals gone.

So our family hopped the cable car out of Xishuangbanna's rainforest and arrived in the relative calm of Chengdu's concrete jungle.