Ceremonies and sun

What a beautiful day: the sun is out, the sky is blue, and the temperature is comfortably mild. I went for a run this afternoon and there was a crisp view of the city and the North Shore mountains. Over the next few days, viewers of the snowboarding events should catch a glimpse of the cityscape that pushed the mountain forward as a venue despite the risk of lackluster snow. Maëlle Ricker just secured Canada's second gold medal and, jogging my way along the neighbourhood's streets, I have never seen so many Canadian flags adorning cars, houses, and shop windows.

The big event seems to be running well. I've heard numerous complaints about this and that: what should have been done differently, where the lineups are too long, and so on. Events have been postponed and some tickets refunded but I guess that must be pretty common for the winter Olympics (the effects of weather are a major difference vs. the summer games). But from my perspective, the whole thing is a nightmarish logistical balancing act and the results have been acceptably smooth so far.

Just over an hour until the ceremonies

We watched the opening ceremonies on TV at the (relatively quiet) German Deutsches Haus downtown. I was initially disappointed. Like most, I cringed through the national anthem and the weird performance by Bryan Adams and Nelly Furtado, singing the same phrase over and over. Despite being well executed, the segment with the boy flying over the wheat fields was random and, frankly, long. And overall the show just didn't feel "big", particularly after the massive event put on in Beijing. The "hydraulic malfunction" at the end was disappointing and I was spared Wayne Gretzky's awkward slow-truck-ride to the second cauldron because German media cut away after the first one was lit.

But numerous people around me said they liked the Vancouver opening better than Beijing's, so I looked at it again. Watching highlights later in the evening, I started realizing how visually impressive some of the scenes were: the mountains, the trees, the streaking time-lapsed tail lights on the floor beneath the inline skaters. Canada's diversity—both cultural and geographic—was well represented. The use of the audience as a projection surface was an interesting touch and the blowing wales were surprising and effective. In the end, although I would have liked less cheesy "wire flying" and more variety in projection effects, I have to admit the performance was quite beautiful in a typically-Canadian understated kind of way.

After the ceremonies, we crossed the road to the German Fan Fest, where we were entertained by a lively cover band from Thüringen. The beer is pretty pricey at over $8 and the crowd was quite a bit younger than us but we had a good time. The German-style beer garden table layout, combined (I assume) with BC-style fire and liquor regulations, means the maximum occupancy is a tad low, so show up early if you don't want to wait in line.

The trip home after 1am was completely painless: there were night buses lining Howe St. and sometimes driving three abreast. Like I said: pretty smooth.

Dress rehearsals are over, let the games begin!

It's hard to believe it's been a year and a half since my experiences at the Beijing Olympics and it's curious to find myself in an Olympic city—not coincidentally, but largely due to circumstance—for the second consecutive time.

I wandered downtown today after collecting my event tickets, watching final preparations underway: people pressure-washing, filling flower beds, cleaning windows, and just generally putting the final touches on months (in some cases, years) of work. Traffic was sparse and the yellow-jacketed traffic officers, though numerous, were easily outnumbered by blue-jacketed volunteers.

Media coverage here has droned on and on about the lack of snow, the probability of rain, the chance of lasting debt, and fact that Vancouver hotels are not sold out. While I desperately wish the media would drop the cries for drama and focus more on news, I guess these are the normal concerns of any host: what if the party sucks? what if nobody comes? But downtown, people are just carrying on getting ready.

It's interesting to note how similar one Olympics is to the next. All the details have been tweaked but the structure and rhythms are the same. The accreditations are the same; the security screening tents are the same; the timelines and schedules are the same. This time it's my German language skills and European citizenship that are securing me tickets, but the collection procedures are the same. And of course there must be stacks of procedure manuals handed from one organizing committee to the next; it would be madness to re-invent it all. More than that, though, it's mostly the same people putting on every Olympic Games: I'm going out for drinks here with many of the people I knew in Beijing, and most are carrying on next to London or other big worldwide events.

I only began to sense the excitement and anticipation here at the end of last week (probably more than a month later than in China), but it's building now. And one major difference here is the number of free concerts and other events. The Richmond O-Zone, Heineken House, Atlantic Canada House, Ontario House, and Vancouver LiveCity sites are all high on my list for entertainment, but you can check out the City Caucus Free Events Guide for many other options.

The torch will be traveling around Vancouver on Thursday and Friday. Check out the route map if you want to catch a glimpse. If you'd like to advertise your willingness to help out the tourists, you can pick up Ask Me buttons in 24 languages at the Vancouver Public Library downtown.

And finally, a cleanly-organized resource I found helpful last time for up to date event schedules, competitor information, and medal counts is Google's Olympic portal.

Vancouver Olympic Tickets on Sale

For those who haven't heard, tickets for Vancouver 2010 are on sale to Canadian residents.

For Round 1, you have until November 7 to put in a request for tickets. After that, events with too much demand will have a draw to determine who gets tickets.

Teaching a nation how to wave (part 2)

Ok, so it's been rather a long time since I ended Teaching a nation how to wave (part 1) with a "to be continued..." China already feels so far away that I barely remember where I wanted to go with that series but here we go anyway...

The Beijing Olympic Games were not the party I was hoping for. This is not to say it wasn't interesting (it was), nor that it was the fault of the security measures (it wasn't) or the Chinese organizers (not sure). For all I know, the Olympics are never as much of a party as you would expect. When Vancouverites put down our own Olympic bid as a waste of money, though, I countered that it was like throwing a house party: of course you'd rather go to somebody else's house party and avoid the costs and cleanup but eventually it comes your turn to step up and host one of your own.

And yet, while there were more people on the subways, more accreditation-pass-sporting foreigners on the bar streets, and Olympic sponsor booths scattered here and there, on the whole, life outside the sports venues seemed to be largely business as usual. The athletes (and those who could afford to drop $400 on a one-night admission) could seek out one of the many national houses or embassy-sponsored functions. But the rest of us were left to the usual collection of bars and restaurants, now lined with flat-screen televisions and sporting 15% surcharges to cover "the increased costs of food and labour" during the Olympics. I can't help thinking that if each country opened their national houses and threw a big party (much as the Dutch Heineken house did nightly) even just once during the event the atmosphere might have been a lot more festive.

That said, the atmosphere at the sporting venues was often electric. Because of the large number of individual competitions combined into a single ticketed session, many people either arrive late or leave early rather than sitting on hard bleachers for 6 or even 8 hours (way, way, way too much tennis for one go). But when the Chinese athletes were competing you could count on a pretty full house. I imagine that for many of the spectators, attending a major sporting event would have been a novel experience and the Beijing Organizing Committee had been circulating instructions on how to perform various "suggested" cheers. There were also cheering squads with bright yellow shirts scattered throughout the stadiums to provide guidance. The main cheer, quickly adopted (and adapted) by foreigners from all countries was a rhythmical four-beat chanting of zhongguo jiayou!, which means, basically, "Go China!".

At one particular basketball session, the stadium quite full of Chinese fans awaiting an upcoming game, a rowdy group of Russians behind us was trying to initiate a Mexican Wave (first time I've heard it called that) in support of their team. A few tentative participants at first. Then a few more. Maybe a section now. A few sections. Finally, after 8 or 9 attempts, the first wave trickles around the stadium, picks up a few more people, builds a little momentum and completes several more rotations before petering out. The slightly surprised but enthusiastic looks on the faces of people around me are contagious...

Several more attempts were made with limited success. These attempts are (and I have never seen anything quite like it) best described as "square waves". Each section seemed to stand up en masse, cheer, and sit down. Only then would next section do the same. The result is a sort of pulsing roar that is really quite off-putting. By the end of the Olympics, however, the stadiums full of fans were waving, clapping, and stomping their feet to "We Will Rock You" like they had been attending NHL hockey games since before they could walk. And when the Wave got started, not only could you see and hear it, but you could feel its energy passing over you: the roar would come barreling towards you and almost literally pick you up out of your seat. Teaching a nation of 1.3 billion people how to wave? I'd call that mission accomplished for the Olympics.

Teaching a nation how to wave (part 1)

Friday was a national holiday, declared only days in advance in recognition of the Olympic opening ceremonies. My poorly judged trip to Tiananmen Square that day revealed more people than I have ever seen in one place in China. Flags, stickers, and headbands were being sold, purchased, and worn everywhere I looked. The Olympic excitement seemed to have finally hit.

Trying to get home, I eventually give up on taking the subway after finding stations closed and streets blocked off at every turn. With the heat finally getting to me, I fall into a taxi (the best 30 quai I ever spent!) and head for home. All of a sudden, the driver is trying to talk to me. We manage to communicate that I come from Canada and he from Beijing. He pats my leg and says jianada a few times with a big grin on his face. I try out jianada yo shan yo shui (Canada is beautiful, literally: there are mountains and there is water), messing up the pronunciation but earning a smiling correction from him instead of a disinterested grunt. Finally, he rests his hand on my arm, rubbing my arm hair between his index finger and thumb. As I'm beginning to find this creepy, he starts miming shaving his face. Now I get the joke! I mime back that it may be stinking hot in China but in Canada I need this fuzzy layer.

Heading to a bar to watch the opening ceremonies, I carefully write out the chinese address, copying it character by character from a book. I hop in a taxi and the driver studiously examines my scrawled lines, picking out the characters he recognizes and piecing it together. Finally, he gets it. He turns to me and mimes, "Did you write this?" Yes, I laugh. Hen hao, he smiles (very good) and gives me a thumbs up.

It seems the city is suddenly filled with high spirits and friendly good will. The drive to the bar is the quickest I've ever experienced, despite two of the four lanes being set aside for Olympic vehicles; apparently residents were asked to keep off the roads. The street is lined with police officers and vehicles and, at every intersection, bus stop, on-ramp, off-ramp, and pedestrian overpass, a soldier in dress uniform stands at careful attention. Beijing is about to throw a party and everything seems to be ready.

(to be continued)

It's raining, it's pouring...

... the Old man is... yeah well it's really raining here again this morning. This is serious heavy rain (and I come from Vancouver, so I know whereof I speak). And the thunder and lightning is setting off car alarms again. It's really cool to live somewhere where storms are accompanied by huge rolling thunder crashes and the tremendous, powerful cracks of lightning bolts.

With the exception of the tropics, I have never been anywhere where it rains so much during the Summer. For a month or more now, we have been saying we should follow everybody else and buy umbrellas to hide away in a pocket or a bag. But it always feels like we're about to leave and the rain has to stop... sometime. It doesn't seem like it's going to.

On the bright side, it does seem to help keep the ground and the air clean. I wonder how much of it is caused by meteorologists seeding the clouds (they also apparently have technology in place to reduce the chance of rain for the opening ceremonies if necessary). The western media is acting like they've only just been made aware of the air quality problem in Beijing and its potential impact on the Olympic games. All construction in the city is slated to stop this Sunday so we'll see if that makes any difference. Sadly, as a result, streams of migrant workers are packing their few possessions and returning to their home provinces for the duration of the games. I say "as a result" but of course it is equally as a result of the desire to maintain "security" and a "clean" city for the games.

On a related note, I heard a news story on the World at Six on CBC saying that spectators would be searched for banners, flags, and noisemakers and that they would be confiscated. "No flags?", thought I, "That's kind of lame." After allowing this misconception to carry on for the length of the story, they added the extra detail that only flags smaller than 1m by 2m would be allowed. Who the heck needs a flag bigger than that?! Imagine you are sitting behind the guy with a flag bigger than that! Sheesh... Apparently umbrellas will be allowed, which seems like it may be a good thing.

It feels like the anticipation in the city has, if anything, declined over the past few weeks. I really felt like it has been growing since I arrived (maybe it was just my anticipation) but, as the last details get sorted out, I just don't feel any excitement. Oh, sure, there are a few more banners, the signs for the Olympic traffic lanes are going up, and workers are setting up venues around the city with big televisions for people to watch the events. People even lined up for hours at the bank to receive newly-printed 10 RMB notes with the Olympic stadium on them. But I just don't sense the excitement. I'm guessing it will turn on by decree.

I bowled a 162!

For as long as I've known Julia I've been trying to get her to go bowling with me. It's not like I bowl often but it's fun occasionally. Well we finally had the opportunity last weekend at a social event organized by Julia's company and while I couldn't knock down more than 9 pins to save my life in the first game, I managed nearly all strikes and spares in the second as I found my stride. People said I had "good form" which I guess I can only attribute to a few years of regular curling; I did feel pretty consistent.

Sunday was a busy day for us. Julia had uniform measurements and team building with her hospitality staff, then we had lunch and bowling, and then we had a few hours to kill before she and I went to a noodle and dumpling cooking class. Unfortunately, we really only had a demonstration and a little practice of the noodle pulling so I still can't claim to have successfully mastered the art but at least I have an idea how the dough should feel. The dumplings, or jiaozi, were quite successful: pork-and-celery and egg-mushroom-and-bok-choi. And I had left overs for lunch!

In other news, I'm currently struggling under the weight of decisions regarding employment, flights out of here, and their destinations so more to come once those are settled. I won't go into all the details of the complications of obtaining a Russian visa but, after a frustrating experience with the Russian embassy in Kuala Lumpur coloured by view of Russian hospitality, I have essentially decided to put off my trans-siberian trip for another occasion.

We're nearly within a month of the Olypmics here now so the pace is accelerating. Julia is busy at work, we have our spare room rented out, and I have an accreditation that removes the need for me to leave the country one last time. The new subways are nearly open and construction sites are racing to get their landscaping done and their walls down before the construction ban kicks in a few weeks from now. Should be interesting times ahead...

Olympic flame summits Mt. Qomolangma

I turned on the TV this morning just as the Olympic flame was being carried up the last 100m of Mt. Qomolangma (the Tibetan name for Mt. Everest), the world's highest peak. The media here has been anticipating this for weeks, probably since the torch relay began. While it seemed like a good gimmick I have to admit to a little bit of apprehension: it was hard to imagine the climbers calling of the summiting attempt, no matter how bad the weather was. How could you fail after building it up so much?

Luckily the weather looked good and they made great time to the top. And watching the footage I had to admit it was a fairly powerful image and pretty memorable achievement.

In looking into the torch relay, I discovered I had missed this leg of the Sydney torch relay: another unique gimmick.

Olympic Tickets

Looks like we've successfully obtained two tickets to see Beach Volleyball at the Olympics. I've been cursing myself for not getting on top of this earlier and picking through the scraggly tickets left at the various official national tickets sellers for which we could possibly qualify (Canada, Ireland, Germany). Not much left, let me assure you...

Then we caught wind on the news on Sunday that the 3rd round of Chinese sales would begin Monday morning, and as luck would have it Julia qualified on account of her visa type. The selection was still somewhat limited and I spent 5 hours or so Monday repeatedly clicking and waiting for the inevitable "Sorry, we are unable to process your request at this time" which was the result of the huge load hitting the servers. I finally got an offer of two beach volleyball tickets shortly after lunch. Because of a rather complex, bureaucratic payment process, I was unable to acquire any more but at least I'll get to see something (and the tickets were only $7.50 or so each!). Some people, having failed to get tickets in the first two rounds, apparently trekked across the country to line up for tickets at Bank of China branches in Beijing the night before. Olympic fever is building...