Brazil....ahhh

My cankles and I arrived in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil on Tuesday after 19 hours of travel. After winding around lakes and through what looked like moss covered mountains, our bus stopped in front of the Everest Hoteis (Hotel)—a mere two minute walk from the beach. This may be one of the nicest hotels I’ve stayed in as part of USA Volleyball—clean rooms, clear water, and free intermittent internet. The food is great (though, it doesn’t take much for me, right?). I will say that my fave so far is the breakfast—the cereal, the MILK, the eggs. Simple stuff, I know—but they do it right.

Brazil is beautiful and so are its people. Boaters and runners and tai chi folks line the streets every morning as we wind our way to the practice gym. In some countries I’ve been, people generally blend together, like there is a distinct similarity that identifies them as Turks or Japanese, etc. In Brazil, however, I see mostly black or olive skin tones, but with many colors of hair and facial features, making it difficult to distinguish foreigners from locals.

I’m also hearing Pourtugeise for the first time. It reads and sounds a lot like Spanish (even some of the grammar rules are the same, like assigning male and female to words), yet apparently locals look at you like you’re crazy if you try to communicate in Spanish, or English for that matter.

Practice-wise, we have been in the gym four times already. Hugh has talked about this being a great learning experience for us as a group. That we expect to win, but we are also focused on getting better. We must expect the battle and keep our heads up and fight in adversity—something that didn’t happen today in practice.

We play Germany on Friday for our first match of the Grand Prix. Puerto Rico on Saturday, followed by the Olympic champs and home team Brazil on Sunday. Sweet. Three good teams to kick this battle off—how cool!

As for me, I’m taking it day by day, drill by drill. Today I got a little better, listened to a new song with Courtney on the bus ride and chatted with her about similar struggles we’ve experienced this summer. I’m so thankful for this day…

Ancora Imparo, people. [I am still learning]

tangled in black

Quite a bit has transpired since I last touched this here blog. I returned from Turkey, steeped in the feeling of home and family in Colorado, and now live in Anaheim California chasing a once very real dream.

I feel I could repeat a past entry that alluded to a faint light trying to bleed out a big darkness. About an ominous forest that entangles, yet at the same time rallies excitement for untethered paths.

I'm somewhere in that forest again, but this time I am going nowhere. I am moving, though, writhing actually, trying to free my wild hair that is all swirled and knotted up--way up--in the black branches. My feet kick, my toes reach...but I can't feel the ground. And what's worse, I can't see it.

If I could just get out of these branches... If I just had some scissors or a flashlight....

Or do I just make like a blind monkey and start swinging?

seasoned

If it was possible to punch a blog’s author through this mysterious channel called Internet, I feel like I would deserve that right about now. My apologies, people, for not getting this concluding entry up sooner. Although, my remorse comes under a wild assumption that my readers might have a cell phone alert connected to my blog updates that grants them immediate, yet momentary, relief from the constant suspense that consumes them between entries. Perhaps this does not describe you?

In any case, I can finally say that our season is finished. The deserving team won the championship, and so we walk away with second place. Okay, that might sound harsh. Of course we worked hard in preparation and we wanted to win, but I’m a big believer in the power of intangibles (especially when it comes to winning it ALL) and I feel we lacked too many to do so. It was unfortunate, though, that we lost like we did—in four sets, finishing the series early at 1-3. Fenerbahce fought and played very well, and as much as I despise losing, I feel glad for them, their club, and even their remarkable coach who apparently turned the team around after arriving mid-season.

Our line-up was different, as I saw probably less than five minutes total on the court (entering the court at the end of a few losing sets). I don’t know Beppe’s reasoning, and I don’t feel the need to ask. Nancy started instead and fought and played hard, and GoGo returned to the middle (after not even suiting up since the Besiktas matches) and played well; I’m so glad they both got to end that way.

I was able to realize my goal of finishing strong. Those words became sort of an anthem mixed with prayer throughout the match and the days leading up to it. In fact, it may have seemed comical to onlookers when at something like 13-23 (yeah, not good), I was bouncing around the court (having just entered it) giving fives, trying to be heard over the deafening Fenerbahce crowd “Keep fighting! Let’s find a way! ….Give me the ball!” I probably looked crazy. But I didn’t care—all I was focused on was finishing strong and fighting ‘til the end so that when God and I break down the match after, there is no pang of regret.

So we lost. And after enjoying a semi-awkward barbeque with everyone yesterday, we said our goodbyes. Despite the unfortunate ending for our very talented group, I was filled with such a joy and a thankfulness for these people and for my experience here.

Yesterday my brother gave me the scale question—I hate the scale question. “From 1-10, how would you rate your experience?” This is torture for an over-analyzer like me, but I tried to be quick about it and threw out an 8. He was as shocked as I was! But ya know, I think an 8 is actually about right. I endured the usual, and very necessary, struggles with my game, with people, with faith, but I was also living in a great city with a great roommate, feeling like I gained and grew so much (not to mention, I got all my promised money…on time!).

The growth has come in many ways. One example is when I flooded five pages of my journal the other day with insight on who Tracy Stalls really is. How do I see myself? How do I think others see me? My good and my bad seems to be naming itself more clearly than ever before. So as I more clearly identify myself (as objectively as possible), I can choose to continue in certain ways or work to change. Oof. Sparing you on the details, let's just name that process as both exhilarating and really, really hard.

In an effort to balance out my way-too-introspective sessions on life lately, I have done things like indulge on sweet-a-licious Turkish foods now that “I can,” or I pay someone (two people actually—one held the brush, the other the blow dryer. No joke.) to straighten my hair. The best 25 lira I’ve spent in awhile! My hair is frizz-free and flat, reaching to my bum. And these geniuses did this to my-stylist’s-nightmare-of-a-mop in less than 45 minutes! Brilliant.

Packing has been an adventure. No sitting on the suitcases yet, but that’s only because I’ve ditched a lot of things like all my wilted socks and bulky coats. I won’t leave my books, though, and that is posing a problem in the weight category. Boo.

Overloaded bags and all, I am set to board for home very early Sunday morning and will arrive that same day (in actuality about 19 hours later) in Denver—woo hooo!! I can’t wait to hear familiar voices and soon hug and kiss the very missed faces. *sigh*

What is in front of me now is a rest with friends and family followed by a summer in California with the National Team. Beyond that, the ways are endless. But the only one I want for sure is the way God would have me go, even if that takes me away from the court and into a shack. I’m not worried or afraid of this unknown, because if there is one element of Himself God has consistently revealed to me, beaten into my soul (though, amazingly, I still need to be reminded at times) it is that He is faithful.

May I continue to discern who I am and who I want to be, and even more deeply, may I continue to know, really know my Love, my Savior—as if, as one of my favorite authors Donald Miller puts it, to see the lines on Jesus’ face.

Thanks for being a part of my Istanbul adventure—as readers, as encouragers, as prayer warriors, and as advisors. I certainly couldn’t have maxed this thing out without you all (you know who you are).

On with journey…this wild unpaved journey…

the power of 5

We should have been done by now. We should have already been the champions and I should be sitting on my suitcases in order to zip them up for home. Instead, we are down 1-2 to a team less talented than we are, but who is fighting for it more.

This means at most there are still five days left of peak concentration on all things Turkish volleyball. If we want a chance for the championship, we must win on Tuesday on our home court. Then, the final battle will resume on Thursday with the last whistle dishing out confetti and a shiny cup to one side or the other.

To give you a bit of background, our first match last Tuesday at home we lost 2-3. Ridiculous, considering we were up 21-16 in the fourth set that should have clinched it. Next match was at 8pm Friday in Fenerbahce’s gym, and we came out on fire, beating them easily 3-0. The next day we played at 3:30 (quick turn around) and couldn’t figure out how to play hard and together on a bad day, thus winning only the second set. Also, I found out later that Fener has finished second to Eczacibasi in the finals the past two years, so it is no wonder that this third time around their hunger could be mistaken for rabies. (foaming mouths, anyone?)

Yesterday two of our star players had bad nights—a rare occurrence. What’s not so rare, I’m discovering, is the negative spirit that seeps into this group. We had a small gathering at our place after where we all overindulged on various cheesy Turkish entrees, tea, nuts, and strawberries (good thing we ignored the call for chocolate). We ate, we talked, and many smoked. Of course I understand that some venting can be good and necessary in order to break it free from bouncing around in one’s head (I, too, could fill a page with all that, people). However, when the verbal bashing of fellow teammates and coaches is incessant, inviting others to join in linking those same, not present people as the source and cause of all their problems, the outlook for a positive turn around is slim.

Who knows. Maybe in this professional arena, this is the norm. Maybe somehow each one might be able to find a way to be great these next two matches, because their focus, their motivation lies elsewhere. I get that. Because that’s where my mind is headed.

How can you believe in a group where there is no trust, no unity? This is different from my previous experiences with both Nebraska and USA, where there has always been an important and wonderful element of team unity to rally behind. Of course it wasn’t crack-free, but there was effort to maintain it at least. I see any unity we had here unraveling quickly with no action being taken from within to hold it together.

I’ve spoken up here and there, especially with Esra, but the reality is that I am a rookie. Not only do I get that my voice doesn’t hold much power, especially to the veterans, but I also feel I should just listen and observe more than speak this time around. The game of volleyball and its team dynamics are different overseas, in Turkey. Like I said, maybe this is the norm, and so this year I will observe and learn. Next year…. Well, that’s a different story—one to consider more after the coming final whistle.

So for now my focus can be boiled down to two words: FINISH STRONG. There is too much going awry that I can’t control, but what is most important is that I finish the fight exhausted, having given everything I could to being my very best. These last two matches I have been focused on ramping up the competitive fire that is my game but that has been dwindling lately. It has felt better recently, and I want to continue to bring who I am, the one who believes, loves the battle, and who wants the ball when the game is on the line. I want to finish with her on the court. Heck, she could even be on the bench, as long as I can walk away knowing I honored my God, the giver of my talents, with what I gave back to Him.

I WILL FINISH STRONG.

one at a time

So we did it. Turk Telekom is finished, as we advance to the Finals! We won in 4 sets tonight, and it took every one of us twelve players to do it. The series thus ended 3-1, and now the battle resumes against Fenerbahce in one week.

I'm exhausted.

We get on a plane in the morning--don't know when yet (and it's almost 1 AM). It will be an exciting moment when I leave the Istanbul airport tomorrow. Not only do I get to go back to Esra's and SIT, but what is most excellent is that the next time I will enter that airport will be to begin my journey back to the US of A!

One more push. A few more matches. Gotta give every ounce of anything that I have left... And I will. God help me, I will.

Tonight, though, I just wanna go home......

how Fuji's shirt applies to Easter

I'm exhausted. But that will all be over by tomorrow morning. That's right. I'm deciding this night's sleep will be all the recovery I will need to bring it tomorrow for the second round of the semi-finals.

We lost in 5 on Friday in Ankara against Turk Telekom. Whew--what a battle. Each game was only a two or three point difference. What's cool is that we have had two days to review it and make little necessary adjustments. What's no so cool is that in the semis, you must win best of 5 matches not sets in order to advance to the finals. That's a big change from the "one 'n done" of college volleyball, even National team events! I do love a great battle, though, and every single set will be nothing less than that with this opponent!

By the way, I forgot to mention that last week the number one seed Gunes Sigorta (the one we played a billion times before--winning all but one match) was knocked out by the last seed of the playoffs! That round was only best of 3 matches, but Galatasaray found a way to win! Amazing--everyone was shocked! Now this eighth seed is losing soundly to Fenerbahce, who will likely advance to the final round 3-0.

In our gym, things aren't quite as fluffy and sweet. It's good though that amid all the intensity and pressure all around us that we could walk out of a mostly bad practice smiling. Beppe was on edge from the beginning. The veins really began to pop near the middle of practice during a usual 6 on 6 drill. There was some confusion in the backrow, leaving a ball to fall without a body flying after it. Fuji was center back and the ball hit the very tip of one of the corners. Beppe made her chase balls all over, then exploded in broken english, "Why?! Why is dis?" In fear and lack of oxygen, she answered, "Beppe, it's impossible to.."

"Impossible!? Look at your shirt, Fuji! We are Adidas--Nothing is Impossible!!..."

He continued his shouting, oblivious to the smirks and covered mouths scattering all around.
I didn't dare change my serious expression, but it was hilarious. He actually used our sponsor's slogan as a mode of motivation in practice. A first. Practice continued in its usual way, and after we gathered to cool down and stretch it was good to see Beppe smiling as he said softley to Vesna, "Did you like that? Was good, no?"

Okay, gotta move quickly now. My head is throbbing--though, this could be less from the fact that I'm tired, and more from the fact that my face got blasted today by one of the best attackers in the league, Mirka, our Cuban. I blinked black for a few minutes, but no biggie, right?

Anyway, we play Monday night at 5:30pm and again the next day. We plan to win both of these matches, earning us a day off on Wednesday before heading back to Ankara to play match #4 on Friday. If we split the wins, we'll play the deciding match on Saturday. Brutal, right! I'm excited, though--just gotta be smart.

Before I run with my delirium to the Sheraton's plush pillow, allow me to shout out a HAPPY EASTER to all of you friends and family and blog followers out there! There are no polka-dot eggs or chocolates or marshmallow bunnies anywhere--which isn't so bad, to be honest with you (though I wouldn't mind downing a handful of cadbury's perfect pastel choco eggs--Jon, you know!). I do miss the fellowship, though, and the community. People who might stand with me in prayer and happy tears acknowledging the Reason for this celebration.

Today Jesus rose from the dead, and not by way of a cooky magic trick. He rose from the dead, proving Himself to be what He always said He was--God. He rose from the dead like all the prophets from way back when said He would, and He did so to show that death--the kind that comes by our sin and living for things that will never satisy--no longer has a grip on us. His rising means that I am free, that forgiveness is real, and that Life--the kind God, our Creator, meant for us to have--is ours to choose.

So from that humbled and thankful place, I say again HAPPY EASTER. I have so much to learn. I have so much to make ammends for. I have so.... much. What a privelege to be known and loved by the God of all. That today in practice, when things weren't going well, when my face was throbbing and patience waning, I was able--able--to choose Christ. That He was more important than anything else.

This is my blog. And tonight I felt like speaking my heart. I miss my family and I miss my friends. Less than a month now.... less than a month.

Bring on the battles (and ice) in the meantime.

to do or not to do

Back from Italy I am, reclining once again on the familiar red couch of Esra’s living room. Three loads of laundry strewn over various racks with the white paper floor lamp giving the room a soft glow. As I’m plodding my unmanicured fingers all over this keyboard, my roomie is cleaned and covered in her room kneeling and lifting her hands for “namas,” or Muslim prayer. When she’s done we plan to make popcorn together. She’s going to show me (I mean, remind me?) how to do it the ole’ fashioned way with just oil in a hot pan. I like it here.

So there is much to say about Italy, of course. We did finish fourth in the European Champions League this past weekend. Though we didn’t play our best team volleyball in Perugia, we did reach our goal to be top four, ahead of a lot of other great teams in the world. There is much for us to learn from our mistakes, from the great talent and confidence of the top two teams (Bergamo and Dinamo), and from the challenges of critics. Losses are always great opportunities to grow, and it is important that we take hold of that chance to do so because now we have the playoffs to focus on. More on that later.

……………………

Ha!….I revisit this blog draft almost a week later. *SIGH* It would be a lie to say I have lacked the free time, as of course I could have traded watching that movie or going for that walk to posting an update. I have simply lacked the fortitude. Plus, the fact that I can’t use my own computer to post anything (i.e. its hormonal internet connection) makes the process more laborsome, and that never jives well with lethargy.

I have half an hour before I need to finish packing for Ankara. We advanced passed Besiktas in the first round of play-offs, and now comes the real test. The semi-final series (best of 3 matches) versus Turk Telecom (Jenny Lang Ping’s team) begins tomorrow night! I am fired up and hope I get a chance to join the battle this round. I didn’t suit up against the Besiktas matches. Beppe said he wanted to give others some game reps—this included the middle returning from the injury and our Turkish right side hitter (Nancy suited but didn’t play). So even though Beppe said that I’m not finished and he wants to use me when he can, I know anything can happen.

So regardless of his decisions, it feels great to say that I’ve been kicking butt in practice and am entering into each day feeling good about what I’ve been doing with what I can control. I am so thankful that the connection with Naz is improving a lot, that my body feels healthy and strong, and that all payments are coming in on time (most other players I know overseas aren’t so fortunate). Most of all, I am thankful to know that I am where I should be and that this—all of this—is truly God’s thing…and I am but a willing player.

Oh, and another thing I am thankful for: Mom’s TOFFEE! That’s right folks. Everyone reading this should be insanely jealous that I opened a package from my mother to find bags and bags of homemade toffee—one of her many, many mouth watering specialties. I wanted so much to share with the people in my Istanbul sphere a taste of my home, especially since they have been so generous to me in theirs. I finally handed it out after our win on Monday night to all staff and teammates, and the expected “Mmmmm” and “Wow!” did follow every bite! “Thank you! Please tell your mom THANK YOU!!” So there ya go, mom—your toffee is now an international wonder! J

On that note, this entry must close as my unorganized roller bag beckons. I will aim to update sooner rather than later this time. If you have any suggestions or questions, holla my way so I can answer them in the next blog. Again, your support and prayers are definitely felt way out here in this city that spans two continents—so thank you, too.

On with the journey…….