The little red ball

TRIPtych — Nepal 3

Jun 25, 2017

There is a little boy who lives high in the Himalayas. His name is Ocean.
He could not speak English. My boys could not speak Hindi.
He knew it as football. They called it soccer.
But they could all speak one universal language — the language of play.

We were taking an unscheduled stop in Ghorepani, at 10,000 feet in the Himalayas. Ian had sprained his shoulder falling off a donkey — and it just made more sense to rest and enjoy our journey thus far, rather than to push on. After all, once you see the majesty of mountain after mountain unfold before you, filling your entire horizon, you begin to know what to expect.

We needed to take it in. Wallow in it. Enjoy the moment. This day would stand out as a very memorable sojourn on a very memorable trip.

We were camped out at the tea-house run by Ocean’s parents. They were so kind — offering help, advice, local medicine to our injured son. After a day, it became clear that he was more stunned than hurt. And that is when he started looking around for things to do.

This is about a little red ball. And how 3 little boys — 8, 4 and 4 — created simple activities to fill their days. Ian has always loved soccer. And he was only too happy to keep Ocean occupied, and not clinging to the sari of his mother who was trying to figure out how to entertain and feed a family of 5 and their 4-person entourage of guides and Sherpas who had unexpectedly extended their stay.
Soon the three little boys were running the length of the tea house eating hall. Milan (Mill-un), our guide, was the goalie on one end. Our youngest stood goal the other. The shy little boy was soon grinning and giggling with the other 4-year old, sharing a joke that must have been visual. As an only child, it was clear that Ocean was enjoying finally having some young company around the house. After all, it was a rarity to see kids doing the Himalayan Trails.

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Many years later Ian became a Right to Play Ambassador. He introduced the initiative at his high school.

Right to Play brings back the joy of play to war-threatened areas of the world — and through play, resurrects sportsmanship, leadership and camaraderie. They centre their focus on the children. Children who get lost in the fight or flight of conflict. Children who lose that most precious gift of wonder and joy.

Ian decided he wanted to run an awareness campaign and fundraiser at school. He hosted local Olympian Adam Van Koeverden to launch the event at his school. He lobbied local sports stars by email and phone, amassing treasures like the autographed hockey pucks from John Tavares, an Olympic scarf from Alexandre Bilodeau — and ran their first online auction collecting bids from around the world! They raised over $3000!
When founder and Norwegian Olympian Johann Koss surprised them by dropping in, Ian had the joy of showing him around the action-packed day he and his team had designed (guided by the Right to Play organization) to educate the school community on how Right to Play makes education fun, through play. It was such a rich experience that he has continued to be an active advocate right through university.

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“What attracted you to Right to Play?” I once asked him. “Why that particular charity?”
“After our trip, I wanted to work with something that involves sports and the world,” he replied. “And when I saw their little red ball on the logo, I knew this was the one.”

“Red ball?” 🤔

The photos were buried deep in our archives. One of 7683 that we took in a pre-iPhone era while on that 9-month, 16-country, 26-flight journey. I had to dig for it when he made that reference.

What I had remembered of that day was my husband’s climb through clouds to catch the dawn of a new day and see a ring of fire. I was afraid Ian would forget finding Pringles and joy of learning to play pool at 10,000 above sea level.

What Ian remembered from that day, however, was a little red ball and the ability to connect across cultures with someone who does not speak your language and the smile that it brought to the face of a little boy called Ocean.