Holiday Cheer

Charlottenburg Christmas Market, Berlin

As the holidays approach it's easy to fall into a kind of zombie mode when living abroad. Being single and alone while your teammates plan their 2 days off with family can be a difficult time as a foreigner. While occasionally some athletes have the luck to of a week off and enough time to jet home for a whirlwind trip to America, the reality for most athletes overseas is a makeshift family of other misfits with nowhere to go.  Christmas has been such a unique experience every year I've spent in Europe. My first year was spent with my one Canadian teammate, crochet, Christmas movies and a lot of Skype. This was my first Christmas without my family and it was hard. When you become used to having your family with you for every holiday it becomes normal. It's easy to forget how lucky you are to have people you love around you. The last five years have made me appreciate my time with my loved ones more than ever before. I have experienced many different Christmases in my time abroad.  Starting from my first Christmas in Berlin to a rushed surprise for my mom at 1am during a snow storm in Toronto. The next year me and an old Kentucky teammate rented an apartment as lost Christmas loners in Brussles to make our own family and create some cheer with spiced wine and new friends.  While every year the magic of the holiday season warms my heart nothing has made me more thankful than having my parents arrive to spend Christmas in Poland with me.

Mom and dad Torun

Brussels Christmas 2014

Lola the dog home for Christmas 2015

Yes I know, doesn't seem like a big deal for them to miss Christmas at home when Sarah and Adam are in China. For my parents to leave our friends and family at this time is actually huge.  Although I am forever grateful for their presence it's hard not to think about our traditions at home.  We will miss Christmas eve spent with my Godparents, Russ and Donna. We won't take on my Zia and cousins in a game of cranium and won't have the chance to crash the Mota family party or fondue night at the Morton's.  Yes, my parents have me to celebrate with but the sacrifice of the holiday traditions and sleeping on a pull out couch is not a small thing to me. While it is part of my job and a small sacrifice for me to play the sport I love, it isn't required for my parents. The love of my family and friends, especially my parents for coming, makes this time of year a little more special and has made my heart grow two sizes this Christmas, like the Grinch regaining his Christmas spirit from the Whos.

Solo

When asked what the hardest part of playing professional volleyball is for the last 2 years I'd always answer that being away from my family topped the list. Many speculated that attempting to have any kind of relationship would have been next to impossible, but I stood by my belief that having something or someone great was worth the frustrations of carrying on a long distance relationship. For two years me and my boyfriend fought to overcome the odds of a relationship that consisted of Skype conversations, a lot of texting and cherished weeks spent in the same area code. Many people questioned me on if we could have real feelings, having spent so little time together, or if it was a real relationship. My answer remains the same, that every moment of my long distance relationship was real. I knew a person so much better for having not been in the same place. You get to know someone from the inside, when all you have are communicated thoughts.

I have spent hours on hours trying to put to words what I want to say. Nothing seems right. Nothing seems to articulate what I'm feeling or give justice to the amazing relationship that simply, had terrible timing. What I will say, is that if asked today what the hardest part of being abroad is? I'd say being alone. For the first time in my adult life, I am truly and painfully solo. For anyone who knows me it's fair to say... I'm chatty. For weeks I have spent hours without a word uttered or texted to anyone. This silence is a new experience for me. 

I have sometimes been accused of being emotionless. While it may appear that way, it is far from the truth. What else is there to do but to search for happiness? I've always heard "fake it til' you make it" and I've taken this to heart. I've thrown myself into life with my new teammates, tested all the coffee shops in town and spent hours searching for ingredients in the grocery store.  All to avoid the deafening silence of my apartment, where there is no "good morning" text waiting on my iPad. It feels as though someone has moved out. There is an absence in my daily life when, in fact, I have always been alone. Looking at myself from an outside perspective I guess it's kind of funny, learning to be alone again, when I haven't really physically lived with anyone for some time. I think what all of this really shows is the validity of long distance love. To feel more alone when nothing concrete in my everyday life has changed is telling of how big a part my relationship played in my everyday life, despite being thousands of miles apart.

Familiar Comforts

Everyone has a list of comforts they keep close to them for times of need. I never realized how important these things were until I was separated by an ocean from everything I knew. I used to take comfort in regular visits from my parents when I played at Kentucky. If not that I could simply turn to close friends I'd known for years for the support I needed. As my original plan of one year abroad turned into multiple years, I have had to find comfort in other things when my people aren't around.

I've developed a list of things I can bring to keep me company and make home feel a little closer. I've learned to take comfort in a familiar mug of my favourite tea, crammed between socks and shirts into my two suitcases containing my whole life. I find happiness on a road trip pulling on the cheerfully coloured socks my dear friend Heather painstakingly dyed and knit for me. On cold, dark winter days, which are plentiful in Poland, I can cuddle up in a hug from my Zia (Italian aunt) by donning the cozy, chunky sweater she made me. While I love and appreciate my band-aid solutions to life alone in a foreign country, nothing will ever compare to having the people I miss with me.

On the most depressing days it's easy to remain in your apartment and binge on Netflix. I've found that this is a recipe for disaster. When all else fails I simply need to peel myself from my bed. Replace the sweats with "normal" clothes and make the 5 minute trek to the nearest coffee shop. The greatest comfort I find overseas is consuming some good Java with a slice of cake and watching the local people. Occasionally I'll hear English and awkwardly start a conversation. Sometimes I can be found walking aimlessly for hours around town weaving between people on the busy streets and slowly coming back to life.

I would never want to complain about being overseas as its a blessing that I am able to pursue my passion while experiencing so many wonderful places. But just like being at home in -30 degree weather, it isn't always rainbows and butterflies. I am grateful for the little bits of happiness that get me through the tough days and I am thankful that there are very few.

The Other Pavan Sister

I spent my whole life up until the age of 22 known not as Rebecca Pavan but "Sarah's sister." As many younger siblings can attest to, this can be rather irritating when entering a new school your older siblings have already conquered. For me this extended past a few teachers who had taught my sister before me. My curse, as a no name sibling, extended into a community of people across a country.  Many of you may know my sister, but for those of you who don't a brief history... Sarah is exceptional in every way. From being academically gifted to beautiful, she is in her own league. Most notably though she has been on of the best volleyball players in the world for most of her life. 

Growing up I was not an athletic specimen. Try as I might, I could not manage to coordinate my skinny, lanky limbs to do what I wanted. Regardless, I was entered into every sport my sister was. Instead of making the rep teams...I remained in house league. Finally when I was 12 I was allowed to start volleyball, my family's favourite past time. Although my family still questioned if it was safe for me to be attempting anything requiring fine motor movements, I loved the sport immediately. I relished in pulling on my turtle shell knee pads, over my knobby knees and warming the bench while cheering on my new friends. After middle school things began changing quickly. I became less "Bambi on ice" and slowly became one of the top Canadian volleyball recruits committing to Kentucky.

Despite my success I never felt as though I was  good enough. All my accomplishments paled in comparison to what my sister was able to do. While I was proud of her, I found it difficult to navigate who I was while I was being told I was someone based on my family. I was often portrayed as jealous, insecure, the "less talented sister" and a Pavan. What really was true? I was struggling to know my identity outside of my connection to my famous sibling. 

Fast forward to 2012 entering my first season abroad. When my teammates began asking about my life and family I was shocked to find they had no flicker of knowing in their eyes when my sister, and the fact the she too played volleyball, entered the conversation. It was like unexpectedly bursting through the surface to suck in fresh air for the first time, when I hadn't even realized I had been drowning. For the first time in my life I was Becky. No strings attached. No expectations. No assumptions. 

The last four years have changed me. I know everyone says this after experiences of living abroad. Just like everyone else who will annoyingly say this, I claim my epiphany is different from all the rest. Everyone who moves abroad is granted a different type of freedom. The freedom to do as one wants, to assume a new identity or simply adopt an new sense of adventure. My experience granted me the freedom to be the me who was always there, hiding in the shadow of a family reputation that trumped all. I can now say more strongly that ever that I am unbelievably proud of my sister and her ever growing list of accomplishments, I love my family and everything they do for the volleyball community and I love myself just for being me. The sport that once caused me so much anxiety is also the thing that set me free.

Monophobia

 

For the past 5 summers I have had the luck to sign professional volleyball contracts to play in Europe. While I am always relieved to have a job for another season and excited to think about the possibilities that await me, the most overwhelming feeling 5 min after signing is...fear. I know this sounds ridiculous, why would I still have this problem going into my fifth season abroad? Well the answer is simple. After you get past the shiny, exciting lifestyle of being an athlete romping around Europe, one quickly remember that you have no friends. 

Each season all I can think about walking into the first practice is "I hope they don't hate me." Seems silly that at 26 this is the thought on my mind as I enter my new job, but hey, I'm human. When I sign up to go to a new team I usually know no one. I'm never sure if there will be other North Americans. And I do know how I will fit into the puzzle of a team of girls who have sometimes been together for a few seasons. It is so easy to become isolated when you live abroad and the worry of having positive human contact is real.

What astounds me is that each season this fear is proven to be completely irrational. Every year I have been welcomed into groups of women who not only tolerate me, but take me into their lives as though I belong there. Where I thought I'd be an outcast, I find myself part of a family. It's easy to assume that all of this is simply because we have to get along since we play on the same team. But there is more to it than that. These beautiful people pull me into their lives. I am not simply an observer of life in whatever country I live in, but I am a participant.

The biggest blessing in my life as a professional volleyball player has nothing to do with the countries I've visited or the money I make. What has enriched my life these last few years are the friends I've made. If I receive nothing else from my volleyball career I will be able to retire with the knowledge that I have had the rare opportunity of becoming a part of different cultures because of the wonderful people I can now call friends. If not for the amazing teammates I have had I probably wouldn't still be playing today. Thank you!

Top left: Dinner in Toruń, Poland 2016
Top right: Christmas market 2012 Berlin, Germany
Middle: Volksfest 2013 Stuttgart, Germany
Bottom: American Thanksgiving 2014 Beziers, France

Goodbye...Again

Since August 2008 I've been living abroad. If you count Lexington, KY as living abroad. I do since I only spent a month or two of every year on Canadian soil. Since then it has begun feeling as though my life is a long line of goodbyes.

My first goodbye involved me rushing my parents out of my dorm room. My dad gleefully skipped to the car and my mom was in tears as the door closed and she stranded her youngest child to fend for herself... surrounded by a volleyball team and the support of a massive athletic department. To me, it was the most exciting moment in my life. I was on my own and ready to conquer the volleyball world.

 

Since that time a few things have changed. Now, instead of a 9 hour drive from home, my parents need to hop on a 9 hour flight. My mother is still in tears but, now I am too. What was once easy is now the hardest part of every August. But I keep doing it. I continue to miss milestones like weddings and birthdays (my dad turns 60 in October) and I continue to believe that chasing my dream is worth it.

Everything I have missed at home I have gained 10 fold. While I find it excruciating to leave, my experiences overseas have never disappointed me. I have met amazing people every year. I have seen beautiful cities. I have driven hours, witnessed gorgeous sunsets, and puttered past rolling farms in countless countries. With the exception of every four years, people often ask athletes why they don't "get a real job" or "grow up." What they don't know is that we are growing and learning every day. While it appears that we're stuck in Neverland, we are just doing things a little differently than most. Do I wish I could plan a party for my dad or attend my best friend's graduation? Absolutely, yes! But for now I am insanely happy to love my people from a far and grow as a person for as long as I see fit.

Photos from top.

• My best friend Jill who recently graduated with a Kin degree
• Me and my father at a volleyball tournament
• My new home Torun, Poland
• One of two canals in Beziers, France
• Jewish Holocaust Monument in Berlin, Germany

Home is Where the Passport is

As defined by google a nomad is "a member of a people having no permanent abode, and who travel from place to place to find fresh pasture for their livestock." Now if we consider me, the person, and volleyball, my livestock, I think it's safe to say I fall into the category of nomad perfectly. 

 

My journey began in 2012 after graduating from the University of Kentucky. After my four years had ended I was on the verge of tossing my court shoes and calling it a day when my parents and persistent assistant coach, Keith Schunzel, encouraged (forced in my parents case) me to try out for the Canadian National Team. After making the team and having the opportunity to compete in the Pan Am Cup my on-again off-again relationship with volleyball was 100% on once more. 

Thanks to the support of family, friends and coaches what I once planned to be a single year abroad has turned into a career.  While my parents may have envisioned this for me, it's something that I was never confident I could do.  As parents always seem to be, they were right and I wouldn't change it for the most spectacular four walls in all of Canada. I am a nomad of the volleyball world and proud of it!

For those of you who stumble across this blog or for friends who know me already. This will be a compilation of reflection on past experiences as well as a current journal of my life, soon to be back in Poland. For anyone with questions or requests just contact me here or on my Facebook athlete page Rebecca Pavan.  For more consistent news and posts also see my Instagram rpavan22

https://www.facebook.com/rpava22/