Playdate: Gaby Alves, Restaurateur and Volleyball Player

“She’s super competitive,” one of her teammates confided to me, only half-jokingly, the moment Gaby stepped away to change.

I had already gotten a taste of that on our motorcycle ride over, with Ms. Alves weaving between lanes and cutting in front of any cars driving too “slowly” (or in this case, the speed limit). She sped so fast my lips were flapping in the wind.

“Lean with me, OK?” she had instructed earlier, demonstrating as she tilted her body left and right. I’d stared back at her in terror. I hadn’t realized I was to do anything but hold on for dear life.

Twenty harrowing minutes later, we were in Shunyi. For the past few years, Gaby has been meeting with an informal group to play weekly volleyball games at ISB.

“This is just for fun, though,” she’d told me, shaking out her curly hair from the helmet. When she grinned, she revealed glowing white teeth that highlighted her healthy tan.

Gaby Alves, the restaurateur who started out at award-winning Alameda and then opened SALT, Terra and Zest, leads an active life. Besides running two restaurants and a café, she also finds time for capoeira, horse riding and, most recently, swing dancing.

Volleyball, however, has a special place in her heart. She hails from a volleyball-loving family, and used to play professionally back in Brazil.

She shone on the court, hollering out positions and suggesting moves. I began to sense a rhythm about the game – sometimes players sent a light tap over the net, other times a forceful spike downwards. Everyone seemed to hold their breath when Gaby struck, navigating her movements with fear.

“I got it!” she called out at one point, arcing gracefully towards a powerful backwards spike. The lanky man on the receiving end of her pass toppled to the ground. I was glad I was sitting out for that one.

A few broken nails and near bloody noses later (not hers, just everyone else’s), it was finally game over.

“The hardest thing about volleyball is the timing,” she admitted, patting away at the sheen of sweat on her face. “The same goes for owning restaurants, you know. You have to be on your toes, innovative and stay ahead of the competition.

“There’s no margin for errors. You either do it right or you can’t do it.”

With that, she handed me my helmet and headed for the door, with me trailing briskly behind her. Boy, was it hard to keep up with her, but I was having a hell of a time trying.

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