The slums in Chiang Mai are built around a canal. The water in the canal is black, straight up black. I can only postulate what gets dumped into this waterway. Some days the river is not as black, more like a violet or dirty green. Nevertheless there would be no good reason to go into the water.
Unless, of course, your name is Caleb Pauls.
After a full afternoon of playing and engaging with slum kids, we were packing up go back to Zion. As I am crossing the bridge I hear the sounds of running frantically then stopping with a gasp. I look down and see a soccer ball floating down the Black River. More kids, now adults join me in the bridge and stare in disbelief as the ball slowly floats away, directly in the center of the river.
Andy springs into action, and starts walking down a path that follows the Black River. He says the river narrows upstream and goes to try and head the ball off. Another older boy grabs my arm and leads me down another path. Hopefully we can also try and head the ball off. (Being the ball was property of Zion, I do not want to let ball escape my grasp forever). I get led through slum alleyways, as Nano follows me, and over a wall till we reach the backend of the Slums. We arrive at this elderly ladies house, the boy who led me here explains what is going on and we enter. As we arrive on her ‘backporch’, aka a slab of concrete that sits next to the Black River, I see the ball floating by. We were too late. I see a tree that overhangs the river. We were too close to give up and not give it a shot. I hurry to try and get to the tree. As soon as I place my full weight on the black soil of an embankment, the soil gives way, and I end up in the haphazardly tumbling toward the river. I catch myself, landing with all fours in the water, up to my knees and forearms in black water. I lost a flip flop in the fall. I frantically felt around for less then $5 flip-flop. I overhead Nano say, “You are going to get a disease, man”. I heard him, but I was too stubborn to give up, I was going to find my flip-flop. The ball is now long gone, and realize my watch was in the water, and the blackness of the water was awful close to my fresh tattoo. I lift my left arm out, as my other hand catches hold of my flip-flop. As I lift my feet out of the black mud and mire the riverbed swallows my other flip-flop. I try hopelessly to find it. I see how dirty I am, and the full reality of the situation hits me. I need to shower asap. I leave the River behind, face downtrodden, with a single flip-flop in hand. The lady whose house we are behind sees that I am barefoot and insists I take her shoes. I oblige and thank her. I walk back to the bridge defeated. I look up to see Andy strutting up ball in hand. “Oh dude, what happened to you?” At the sight of me covered in filth residents of the neighborhood ushered me to the outside faucet. I get handed soap, and they motion for me to start cleaning myself right away. The grandma who hangs out on the corner is simultaneously cleaning me off, making fun of me for falling in and only having one shoe.
After getting all cleaned up, receiving new shoes I proceed to go back to Zion to take a shower and clean myself again.
As downtrodden as my face may have been, I was flabbergasted at the generosity of the community. With urgency they helped me in my attempt to retrieve the ball. With firmness they insisted I clean myself up. With charity they gave out of their lack, when I was in need. I was blown away.
I went back a few days later to return the shoes (because I bought a new pair of flip-flops). I returned with 4 dragon fruit as my gift of thankfulness for everything the community had done for me.
