Volleyball at Dusk

Joshua shares a journal entry:

“Quieres jugar vóley?” I was asked.

“Vóley?”

Ohhh, volleyball. Hmm. I don’t play much. But sure, I’m a good head taller than most Peruvians, so I guess I’ll have a slight advantage, right?

This was at lunch over some zesty guacamole sandwiches and the richest black olives you’ve ever tasted. Four o’clock in the afternoon finally rolled around, and I was prepared to head out of the door wearing a T-shirt with my favorite hip-hop group, Hesston College shorts and . . . flip-flops.

My dad politely informed me that I would probably want some shoes on. So I quick slipped into my faded Ronaldinho 10 indoor soccer shoes and caught up.

We walked about three blocks over to a multicolored sport/gym complex. I passed through the tall walls of yellow and forest green to a welcome sight for any soccer player: two small turf fields with nets at either side. I saw some people playing three on four on the near field, and secretly wished I could join them, filling their hole and playing the sport that I love.

But I had made a commitment. More and more people started arriving. As they joined us on the far soccer field with a net set up in the middle, I started to realize that I was going to be the only person there under 25. Not only that, but my dad, the only one who spoke a lick of English, was leaving.

Shoot, I forgot that he had a molar removed the day before. Well, looks like I’m on my own for this one. Oh well, I think I’ll survive.

As the evening sun started setting on the sports complex, our games began. Six on six, as it should be. As the games proceeded, it seemed that the side without the sun in their eyes seemed to win.

Coincidence? Nah.

Anyways, I was slowly learning how difficult of a situation I was in. In the first few games, people would tell me so many commands that I just couldn’t understand. I just sort of nodded along and did my best. My best was pretty awful, though I probably scored as many points as I gave the other team.

As the games progressed, I slowly started learning commands. As my vocabulary grew, so did my confidence. I started scoring more and more points.

“Eso, eso!” “Bien!”

Their voices rang  throughout the complex. We played until we could no longer see the ball very well, and a gentleman in a white polo who seemed to have some sort of authority asked us to leave. Sweaty and exhausted, I returned home, in awe of the endurance of these middle-age Peruvians.