When most people finish a five-year run of accolades and All-American status, they take a little time off to reflect on what they have accomplished, but not Lily Kahumoku.
Instead, two weeks after a disappointing loss to Florida in the Final Four, she hopped on a plane to spend her winter in Siberia. Yes, that Siberia, of the gulags and Arctic winter fame.
“ It’s minus 20 outside, and it is like putting your face into a hot oven,” says Kahumoku, now safely back in our Islands since March 20. “You inhale the air and it burns your teeth, like biting into an ice cream.”
So how does a native Hawaiian from Texas end up in Khabarovsk, a town 500 miles northwest of Sapporo on the Chinese border? It dates back to a 2002 exhibition match with the Russian club team Samorodok. The Wahine crushed them — with Kahumoku leading the way with 26 kills — and the coveting began.
Once Kahumoku’s and fellow Wahine Lauren Duggins’ college eligibility had expired, the Russian Gold-Mining Company AMUR, which owns Samorodok, came with offers they couldn’t refuse.

“ I was treated like a goddess,” says Kahumoku in the soft tones of a child whispering secrets in the back of the class. “We stayed in a three bedroom luxury suite, they took care of our meals, taxis and gave us the newest technology in winter clothes.”
This is not to mention her salary that she declined to reveal, saying only that they took very, very good care of her. Despite the royal treatment, her partner Duggins lasted less than a month before packing for home, and Kahumoku found herself longing for the Islands herself.
“ I cannot picture a place more consummately different from Hawaii,” says Kahumoku, shaking her head as she struggles for the words to capture it. “It was like a dream, so surreal, like it wasn’t real, like The Matrix.”
She isn’t just talking about the weather. While elegant, she found caviar for breakfast each morning delicious, but not something she wanted every day. The ubiquitousness of beets in the diet and the daily serving of borscht (“Portuguese soup gone Russian”) had her wishing for a plate lunch.
Also, with her only English speaking ally gone, she had to learn Russian on the fly.

“ It is so different from the Hawaiian language that has a lot of vowels. There you have three, four, even five consonant sounds in a row and it’s like, wow,” says Kahumoku before letting loose with a series of Russian words to demonstrate.
She learned the language by watching American movies dubbed into Russian, and while not fluent, she could survive and, more importantly, play volleyball.
“ The language barrier was the toughest thing; I didn’t know if my teammates are plotting my death or want to be my best friend,” says Kahumoku. “You just don’t know because they are so stoic. But now, I can’t speak English while playing volleyball!”
Despite making loose connections with her team, there are larger issues with the public as a whole in the post-USSR era of Eastern Siberia.
“ There is a very strong anti-American sentiment in Russia and it is very hard to get past that,” say Kahumoku.
But there is one way to get past all prejudices, and that is to perform. Volleyball is the second-largest women’s sport in Russia, attracting up to 6,000 fans to her home games on the Amur River. All the games are televised, and with winning comes acceptance.
“ It was so weird,” says Kahumoku, “people would come up to me on the street and say, ‘We love your team, and we like your play.’”
These accolades came with good reason. She took a little-regarded Samorodok team and led them to a top 5 finish — their first-ever — and assured them a spot in the Super League next season.
For this and her plus .500 kill percentage, she was awarded the first Master of Sporta ever given to a foreign player. It is our equivalent of All-Pro and something she will always cherish, even if she cannot spell the award in the Russian crylic alphabet.
Taking the monetary earnings and experience (“I went there pudding, now I’m jerky”) she is taking her act to the AVP, America’s professional beach volleyball circuit.
“ Part of the reason I went to Russia was to make money to pay for (AVP Tour),” says Kahumoku, who has to pay for her own travel and lodging until she garners some sponsors. “Ever since I was a little girl my dream was to play beach volleyball with my older (half) sister, and now it’s coming true.”
Her older sister is Jessica Alvarado-Brannan, star of the Long Beach State team that went 36-0 in winning the National Championship in 1998, and now two-year veteran of the AVP tour.
The teaming seems perfect with Kahumoku’s powerful style from the left and Alvarado’s ball handling skills and passing on the right. Only problem, the two of them have never played together and won’t have a chance to before their first event April 23-25 in Tempe, Ariz.
Also the differences between a power six-person indoor game and the finesse and stamina of the beach sport could provide hurdles, but Kahumoku pooh-poohs such talk.
“ It’s not going to be hard; our style is so similar and we talk so much, I don’t think training together is that important right now,” say Kahumoku, who plans on residing here in the Islands and finishing her degree at UH while flying in for events.
Her professional career lies ahead of her, ripe with the potential to become the next Gabrielle Reece, and poised to represent the United States in the 2008 Olympics. If all goes well in the AVP, look for her to be playing in the Hawaiian Invitational at Fort DeRussy Sept. 23-25.
But even with her world travels and golden road ahead, she still remembers those who brought her here.
“ By far, Hawaii fans are the greatest in the world,” says Kahumoku, who tells of Russian fans who, while exuberant, would throw bottle caps and rubbish at them on the court. “I don’t think there is any other place that appreciates women’s volleyball (like Hawaii) and really embraces the sport, and I am so thankful for having that experience.”