I've gotten my hands on a copy of the "Beijing Olympic Games Training
Series: A Conversational English Reader." BOCOG -- the Beijing Olympic
governing body -- is using it as a manual to teach volunteers how to
react to any situation that might arise during the Games. Some of those
situations just happen to be a bit unusual.
Today's text is reproduced in its entirety and is not edited. All non-sequiturs and grammatical errors
are theirs. The text is titled "Entering the National Stadium" from
the "At the National Stadium" section of the reader. Again: this really is a guide for how volunteers are supposed to deal with Westerners in this particular situation. Enjoy, after the jump:
Still worried about the status of LeBron's ankle? Trying to figure out how Coach K is going to rotate Jason Kidd, Chris Paul and Deron Williams? Wondering whether Kobe's ready to be an MVP on the international stage?
NANJING - Iran shook up the basketball world on Wednesday night in Nanjing by stunning Serbia 72-70 in arguably the most famous win in the country's sporting history.
"This is the biggest win in Iranian basketball history," Iran's Serbian coach Rajko Toroman said.
Just from the standings alone -- Serbia is ranked 4th in the latest FIBA standings, and the Islamic Republic of Iran is ranked 33rd -- this is an impressive win. It's also landed Iran on the Rocky's Olympic blog radar, which means that it's time for the first installment of what I've hastily titled "Getting to Know an Obscure Olympic Team." Read all about the Iranians, after the jump:
Four years ago, Carly Patterson won gold in the women's all-around gymnastics competition. Four years later, she's not going to be returning to Beijing. Instead, she's trying to start a new career.... as a pop singer. (Here's her new single.)
From anonymity to America's Next Sweetheart to anonymity, all before her 21st birthday.
I wrote two days ago that Fire Joe Morgan is blocked in China, but now, having reread that post, I've discovered that there is one line that needs to be addressed. "Maybe [the Chinese] just like Murray Chass' new website," I wrote, potentially trying to justify why the Chinese might censor a fine baseball blog like FJM.
Here's the problem: upon further review, I've discovered that Chass' website is also blocked here in China.
The wise editorial staff at The Onion is asking the question that apparently all of us should be considering: will the Chinese actually use the Olympic venues to trap innocent American athletes inside?
Temperatures in Beijing have been sitting in the mid-to-low 90s for the last month. It's humid, but without any of the unusual benefits of humidity (i.e. eventual rainfall). You have to be crazy -- or on official business -- to walk around in anything but a t-shirt and shorts.
Which brings me to my next point: why then is the Chinese women's track and field team voluntarily wearing sleeves?
The photo at left is the uniform that Nike unveiled yesterday for the women's team. The sleeves caught my eye immediately. I suppose that Nike will say that the sleeves make the athletes more aerodynamic -- and I suppose that yes, they did work for Lynda Carter, so maybe Nike has a point.
Or, maybe the Swoosh was stealing from Allen Iverson's wardrobe, but they were afraid of going with the asymmetrical sleeve look. I'm sure that having one arm with sleeve and another without just doesn't work feng shui.
It's 7 p.m. in Beijing, and 5 a.m. in Denver. Here are the stories that are
making Olympic headlines on this Thursday evening/morning, after the
jump:
Dealing with the army of volunteers in Beijing has not been easy. They're specifically trained not to say no to anyone, and they're instructed to refer everyone to another supervisor, even in cases where the volunteer might be able to provide an athlete or journalist with answers. In short, it's a system designed to create endless red tape and frustration.
Of course, there is an upside to this bureaucracy: the multitude of training guides that volunteers are using to learn how to deal with Westerners. I've gotten my hands on a copy of the Beijing Olympic Games Training Series: A Conversational English Reader. BOCOG -- the Beijing Olympic governing body -- is using it as a manual to teach volunteers how to react to any situation that might arise during the Games. Some of those situations just happen to be a bit unusual.
Here's one that -- as was the case with previous conversations designed to teach volunteers how to diffuse China-Japan tensions and deal with awkward pauses -- is reproduced in its entirety and is not edited. All non-sequiturs are theirs. The text is titled "Another foreign athlete drops in," from the "At the Olympic Village" section of the reader.
I cannot emphasize this enough: this really is a guide for exactly how volunteers are supposed to deal with athletes in this particular situation.
It might have made headlines in the States, but here, the sale of Anheuser-Busch to InBev was a non-story. But that doesn't mean Bud doesn't have any stake in the Chinese market. While it's not quite as widespread as Chinese beers like Tsingtao or Yanjing, or the popular Asian brew Tiger, Bud is an official sponsor of the Olympic Games, which means that it's available all over the city (of note: Tsingtao and Yanjing are also official beer sponsors of the Games, though who knows why an athletic competition needs three official beers. Also strange: Bud owns about a quarter of Tsingtao's American operations).
But the new Bud Olympic ads in China have just started running on Chinese TV. Check out the Bud ants' takeover of the Bird's Nest below:
BEIJING - Some International Olympic Committee
officials cut a deal to let China block sensitive Web sites despite
promises of unrestricted access, a senior IOC official admitted on
Wednesday.
Persistent
pollution fears and China's concerns about security in Tibet also
remained problems for organizers nine days before the Games begin.
China had
committed to providing media with the same freedom to report on the
Games as they enjoyed at previous Olympics, but journalists have this
week complained of finding access to sites deemed sensitive to its
communist leadership blocked.
Wow.
Here's the next question: if the IOC is allowing the Chinese to censor
certain websites, then what other issues are they giving into the
Chinese on?
The Opening Ceremonies are still more than a week away, but Argentina's men's basketball team is already in the Chinese city of Nanjing for a pre-Olympic tournament (yesterday, they beat Iran 81-71). Manu Ginobili celebrated his 31st birthday on Monday, and a camera crew was on site for the celebration. The cake is impressive; the hotel staff might want to brush up on their Spanish, though:
A Google Trends search for the phrase "2008 Olympics"
turns up some interesting results. Tagalog -- the primary language of
the Philippines -- is the top language searching for that phrase. Hong
Kong -- which technically won't be part of China until 2047
-- is searching for it more than any other city. Beijing, strangely
enough, isn't on any of Google Trends' lists for the phrase.
But I'm pleased to report that Denver makes the list of the top 10 cities that are Googling the phrase "2008 Olympics."
Yet, two American cities are higher than Denver on the list: Washington, D.C., (at #9), and Richardson, Texas (at #7), which you probably know as Jessica Simpson's hometown.
So here's an open call to the city of Denver. Forget about the DNC and Broncos training camp
for a second and Google the Olympics. It's your civic duty to ensure
that Google recognizes Denver -- not Richardson, Texas -- as the
American city most interested in these Games.
It's 7 p.m. in Beijing, and 5 a.m. in Denver. The stories that are making Olympic headlines on this Wednesday evening/morning, after the jump:
The scene: the sidewalk in front of the Bird's Nest. It's about 5
p.m. A man and his daughter are stopped while riding their tandem
bicycle (which, I should note, are surprisingly common around here). A police officer approaches. He's standing about 10 feet in
front of the bike. He pulls out a megaphone and begins yelling in
Chinese at the two. Despite the efforts of the man and his daughter,
the officer refuses to put his megaphone away. I have no idea what the
argument was over, but the man and his daughter eventually biked away,
the officer still screaming through his megaphone.
This is probably not a good sign of how Beijing crowd control has progressed over the last two decades.
My lost-in-translation moment of the day is after the jump:
They never ask about the A&M helmet on the wall. They never talk
about the University of Texas national championship banner, or the horns hanging up
near the bar. They never mention the photo of Tom Landry, or the
light-up Texaco sign above the stairs.
No, there's only one thing any Beijinger ever asks when they walk into Tim's Texas Bar-B-Q in downtown Beijing.
"George
Bush and cowboys, that's how they pair it," said Tim Hilbert, a Seguin,
Texas, native and the owner of the self-named restaurant,
which opened about 18 months ago.
More about Hilbert and his Beijing barbecue, after the jump:
The
Chinese have promised to unblock many censored Western websites during these
Olympic Games, but many sites still mysteriously "time out" or have
servers that "do not respond." Certain pages on CNN.com or BBC.com
won't load here in Beijing; Google image searches for "Tiananmen
Square" or "Falun Gong" won't work either.
But there is one website that's blocked here that I find especially strange.
I'm talking, of course, about the fine bloggers over at Fire Joe Morgan.
I am not sure why this is the case. Maybe the Chinese government wants to hide the link between high
BABIP and overinflated batting averages. Maybe they're against those
who lurk in their mother's basement, thumbing through the dusty box
scores in old editions of Sporting News. Maybe they just like Murray Chass' new website.
Whatever
the reason, here's an open call for the Chinese government to unblock
Fire Joe Morgan. The good people of China deserve to know what inane
things the American baseball media are saying. Do not deprive the people of their JoeChats.
To all those purists who were upset when Major League Baseball introduced the Wild Card or the winner-takes-home-field-advantage gimmick at the All Star game: you might want to stop reading right now.
Have all members of SABR cleared out? Has Bob Costas clicked away? Well then, here goes: a rule change introduced for the Olympics will allow teams to put men on first and second at the start of each extra inning, beginning with the 11th. Let's go to the press release:
The new rule calls for traditional baseball extra-inning rules to be used in the 10th frame, but all contests that are tied after 10 innings will compete under a new format. Beginning with the 11th inning and each inning needed thereafter, base runners will be placed on first and second base with no outs. All other rules of baseball will remain in effect....
The new extra-inning format will allow for each manager to select two consecutive batters from anywhere in their respective lineup to start the 11th on first and second base. The next batter in the lineup would then be the batter that starts the inning at the plate. Once those players/runners are determined for the 11th inning, the order of any subsequent innings will be determined by how the previous inning ended. That is, if the 11th inning ends with the No. 6 hitter having the last official at bat, then the 12th inning begins the No. 7 hitter at bat, and the No. 5 hitter at 2B and the No. 6 hitter at first base.
In related news: no, a Little League-style pitcher's helper will not be allowed on the field at any time.
Other news that's making Olympic headlines here on Tuesday evening/morning, after the jump:
I've written before that the language barrier is a huge obstacle here in Beijing, but signs around town are often even more confusing. Sometimes, the characters featured on these signs seem to be engaging in oddly athletic behavior. Other times -- like the sign at left -- the message just doesn't make any sense.
After the jump, check out an audio postcard from Beijing about signs that have gotten lost in translation:
I've seen this ad so often now, I've been forced to turn off the TV. I'm terrified to hear its faux Brian McKnight soundtrack one more time, to see this former Duke star splashing through a muddy rice patty again. Other ads for Yao Ming or Liu Xiang or even the Fuwas are on frequently, but it's this Peak ad for Shane Battier that's running on all of CCTV's channels at all hours of the day. Even worse: it's the only ad in the entire Peak campaign.
One thing I've been wondering while watching it: if the Peak/Battier slogan is "I can play," then do you think the Chinese are wondering why Battier isn't included on the U.S. Olympic roster for a team led by his old college coach?
BEIJING, July 27 (Xinhua) -- Beijing has set up a sex determination lab to
test female Olympic athletes suspected to be males.
Suspected athletes will be evaluated from their external appearances by
experts and undergo blood tests to examine their sex hormones, genes and
chromosomes for sex determination, according to Prof. Tian Qinjie of Peking
Union Medical College Hospital.
Initial test results would be available in three days, while an official
result takes seven days, he said.
The test aims to maintain fairness of the Games, and to rule out inaccurate
test results.
Experts say test results for about one in 500 to 600 athletes are abnormal.
Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to 2008, where it takes seven days to officially rule how many X chromosomes a person has.
More Monday evening/morning links from Beijing, after the jump:
For those of you wondering if the Chinese are taking security seriously, consider this: the official logo for security at Beijing subway stations (seen at right) includes what appears to be a nuclear weapon.
Measuring air quality in something called "blue sky days" is a bit strange, kind of like how the U.S. government used to measure nuclear radiation in "sunshine units." Something's getting lost in the translation. But still, blue sky -- meaning any day with acceptable air quality -- is the benchmark that the United Nations uses to keep track of the air in cities around the world. The good news for these Olympics, if you believe the latest numbers: between July 1 and 25, there were 22 blue sky days in Beijing.
The bad news: there's absolutely no way that those numbers are accurate.
Now, I only arrived July 2, but according to my track, I've only seen a blue sky five times since. Two of those days are what American meteorologists would call "partially cloudy." By my count, there have only been three truly sunny days -- days where the smog hasn't been overwhelming, which is what the UN is really referring to with the term "blue sky" -- here in Beijing. I saw more of the sun in four days in Hong Kong than I have in my entire stay in Beijing combined.
And another thing: the smog's not going away. More after the jump:
With all the talk about Yao, the shoe giants and nationalism, I've left out one key Olympic sponsor in The Rocky Olympic blog's Ad Watch: Gatorade. They'll be omnipresent at these Games, and judging by their new national ad, they're hoping to be just as big a player in China beyond these Olympics. The campaign is called "Sports Beyond 2008."
And please, correct me if I'm wrong, but is that background music a Chinese cover of K.T. Tunstall's "Black Horse and The Cherry Tree"?
It was about 95 degrees today in Hong Kong. With humidity, it felt like it was pushing 105. If any day was supposed to be spent inside, maybe at a local museum or numbing away in front of the freezer section at 7-11, today was it. Instead, I did something very stupid: I climbed a mountain.
Not just any mountain, really; Victoria's Peak, 1,810 feet (if you believe Wikipedia) of greenery rising above Hong Kong Island. Thousands of apartments are scattered in buildings on the mountain. To explain how beautiful the view is from the top, consider this: there are apartments on this mountain that do not have views of Hong Kong's harbor but which still sell for about HK$20 million (about $2.6 million).
The story, which I swear connects back to sports, continues after the jump:
Good evening, Hong Kong; good morning, Denver. That's the view of Hong Kong Island, shot about an hour ago. There's a slight breeze blowing here, but otherwise, it's about as humid a place as I've ever been to. The horses should be thrilled for that next month.
A few thoughts on the air quality here, after the jump:
The Rocky's Beijing Bureau is taking a brief hiatus tomorrow and heading down to Hong Kong. In the meantime, catch up with everything that's already gone on here at the blog. Oh, and if you're wondering: yes, there are times when Beijing's traffic is non-existent. That photo above is proof. That being said, it was taken on a Sunday morning at about 5 a.m. This city does stop, but only briefly.
In 2005, Burger King opened its first Chinese store in the city of Shanghai. That year, the company announced that it wanted to open 1,000 stores in China by as early as 2010. But currently, the only Burger King in Beijing is at the new airport. There are only a dozen stores in the entire country.
So when it comes to burgers in Beijing, the Golden Arches have a huge head start. They're more ubiquitous in this town than any other brand name -- probably even more so than Michael Jordan. As an Olympic sponsor, they've also taken over the national airwaves.
McDonald's has two new ads out. The first is a strange one for their Heart Tickling Value Meal -- or, as you know it in the States, the Dollar Menu:
The other, featuring four Chinese athletes and the "energatic!" [sic] line of McDonalds meals, is after the jump:
It's been almost three weeks since I landed in Beijing. And with a side trip to Hong Kong tomorrow -- all part of the fabulous Road to Deportation here at The Rocky's Summer Olympics blog -- I first wanted to pass along a few thoughts on all that I've learned so far.
When in doubt, point.
The drivers won't hit you. It's the bikers you should fear.
>>If
you're on the second level of a double decker bus at rush hour, chances
are that you won't be getting off anytime soon.
No matter what the vendor may say, Hugo Boss does not sell shoes in alleys or subway stations.
Patience is good. Persistence is better. Insistence never works.
A
subway ride costs 2 yuan (about $.29), but exact change is not
accepted. Only 5 and 10 yuan bills are accepted. And all change
is issued in 1 yuan coins. None of this makes any sense to me.
Every Friday night for the last few years, near the East gate at Renmin
University, a group of Chinese students come together to do the
strangest thing: speak English. Mostly, it's just the Chinese
practicing amongst themselves, but every so often, a native speaker
happens upon the area they call The English Corner.
Tonight, that native speaker just happened to be me.
I
found myself swamped with questions, like "Do American students carpool
to class?" and "Do you think graduate school is important?" and "Is Yao
your idol?" I was somehow awarded a Chinese name: 大鞋 (pronounced dà
xié), which means big shoes (in addition to wearing a size 13 shoe, I
had my new Shaq-endorsed Li Ning sneakers on). I was asked my opinion
on movies ranging from "Fight Club" to "Legally Blonde."
But my
two personal favorite moments from the evening involved Allen -- who
explained that his name was "just like you say Allen Iverson,"
though he chose the name because it started with the first letter of
the alphabet and not because of a previous experience as a Sixers/Nuggets fan
-- and his crew of English-speaking students.
Two audio clips are enclosed below. Clip one is of Allen reciting George Costanza's famed closing speech
from "The Marine Biologist" episode. (The other two voices you here
are me and University of Missouri journalism student Matt
Lothrop, who's here in Beijing volunteering at the Games. He's also
the non-Asian in the photo above. Allen is the guy standing up across from him.) The second is of a student named
Lincoln who, apparently a fan of Honest Abe, recited the
"Gettysburg Address." (A quick Google search for "The English Corner"
turns up that I'm not the first one to have heard this speech at Renmin.)
It's got 11 courtrooms, seating for 247 people and will cover "a judicial area of 57.22 square km." Judge Judy -- heck, some American cell phone companies -- would love to have that kind of coverage area.
Here's what I'm really excited about. That image above is of an actual courtroom, and in particular, those flat-screen TVs are sticking out at me. Chinese blog Danwei's already asking what you're thinking:
Xinhua's website also shows flat-panel television screens flanking the
judge's bench in at least one courtroom--perhaps so that plaintiffs
won't have to miss the Games.
If that's the case, I've got another question for you: if a man is being sentenced in the waning seconds of the 4x100 meter dash, but everyone's too busy watching the event on TV to notice, does the sentence still count?
His Reebok ad is titled "Fuel Yao's Unlimited Power," and it's running on a near constant loop on all of China's CCTV channels. The ad piggybacks on the theme of unity that China's pushing hard this Olympic season. There's not much room for interpretation here, though I must ask: what's with very un-Yao-like background music?
Start the timeline two years ago, when a few bloggers at the brilliant, nonsensical, grammatically absurd Wizznutzz call Gilbert Arenas "Agent
Zero" in one blog post. Later that season, Dan Steinberg of The Washington Post's D.C. Sports Bog
mentions the nickname to Arenas after practice. "Ooooh, I like that," Arenas responds. Soon enough, it's
getting some buzz around D.C. Then the breakthrough: after Arenas hits
a game winner against Milwaukee, Wizards TV announcer Steve Buckhantz goes
nuts. "Dagger! Agent Zero wins the game at the buzzer!" The clip is replayed ad nauseum on "SportsCenter." By season's end, Arenas and Agent Zero are one and the same.
I went to buy a new pair of Shaq's Li Ning sneakers today down on Wangfujing. Their three-level store is pretty impressive, with roaming salesmen who actually speak a bit of English. But when I approached the counter to make my purchases, I ran into a bit of trouble.
See, on the back of my credit card, instead of signing my name, I've written the words "Ask for I.D." It's supposed to be effective at stopping card theft, but only when the cashier bothers to check it (and in the States, that happens far too infrequently). But the Chinese are quite diligent about matching the signature on the card to the one on the receipt.
So I signed the receipt as usual, and then the cashier tried to match up my signature to the words "Ask for I.D." The two really don't look much alike. I explained to her the situation and showed her my driver's license, which carries my signature. That didn't seem to help.
She called over a salesperson who explained in English, "She wants you to sign like it says on the card." I explained again that what was on the card was not my signature. He relayed this to the cashier, and she shook her head. "Yes," he said, "but please, just sign like it says on the card."
Somewhat bewildered, I crossed out my signature and wrote, in block letters, "Ask for I.D." on the receipt.
The East Turkistan terrorist group, Tibetan separatists
and Falun Gong cult organizers may try every means to sabotage the
Games.
Of course, I'm happy to see that measures are being taken to keep terrorists from East Turkistan (though you probably know them as being from Uyghurstan) away from these Games. But the other two groups? My Internet here in Beijing is conveniently "timing out" whenever I attempt a Google search for either of them, but you're free to Google them yourself and decide whether or not they might be the types of groups that would require the immediate readiness of surface-to-air missiles with a range of up to 7.5 miles.
A story about snow days that will eventually segue into Olympic related news:
When I was in 10th grade, sometime around February, I remember waking up one Friday morning to news reports of "The Storm of the Century." Meteorologists in my hometown of Washington, D.C., were predicting rolling whiteouts around town, possibly two feet or more. All of them -- Topper Shutt on Channel 9, Doug Hill on Channel 7 and most especially Bob Ryan on Channel 4 -- were becoming more excited with each new regional satellite image. Snow should be falling by 9 p.m. tonight, they said. Definitely a foot or more by Saturday morning.
This was obviously huge news. A few feet of snow is a big deal if you're 6 or 16. It meant snowball fights and sledding at the hill behind the school and definitely a few cups of hot chocolate. The fact that the storm wouldn't cancel any school was a bit of a downer, but not enough to override the imminence of fresh snow.
I should note: D.C. does not have a history of handling snow very well. Congress closes at the mere threat of powder; in 8th grade, my school system once closed early due to a mild rain that Topper, Doug and Bob said could turn into a hailstorm at any moment (it didn't; we ended up with a light rain and a free afternoon instead). When the Topper-Doug-Bob monster gets wound up about some periwinkle blob on their Doppler, the most amazing thing happens: all at once, a semi-coordinated mob of minivans rush to local supermarkets, buying triple-ply Charmin and Evian and all the other things that will no longer exist in Washington after the giant blob dumps snow on our fair city, living it uninhabitable to all those without a Starbucks within immediate stomping distance. The meteorologists, meanwhile, don't help the situation, because
they're always trying to top one another with their predictions. The
Storm of February begets The Storm of the Winter begets The Storm of
the Year begets The Storm of the Century. These guys pile on the
superlatives at an unending exponential rate until, ideally, a new
storm approaches for them to hype.
This extended story, which, eventually, does have relevance to Beijing, continues after the jump:
But here's their new Chinese TV ad, and it seems Li Ning may have finally struck an original chord. The question I'm thinking about after watching it is: when it's all over, what will China have to show for the billions they've spent on these Games?
Or, if you'd prefer a slightly more cynical tone: after these Games end, will China put away the patriotism and revert to everything they've always been?
There is one item, however, that I am thrilled to see on that list of prohibited items: the umbrella. The Chinese are fanatical about carrying umbrellas around with them wherever they go, especially on sunny days. That image above is from the Great Wall, where I found myself getting poked on all sides by unsuspecting Chinese as I climbed up the Wall.
A Colbert-style tip of the cap to you, BOCOG, for keeping umbrella spokes away from my head this August.
This is Ou Zhihang. He's a TV personality in the Guangdong province, and
currently, he's touring China, doing push ups while completely naked at
major landmarks throughout the country.
Why is he doing this? That's a bit harder to figure out.
The state-issued line -- and yes, a naked TV host exercising
in front of an Olympic Stadium has drawn official stances from the
national government, via the state-owned media -- is that this guy is
the Asian, voyeuristic Jack LaLanne.
But this month, while Zhihang is excercising naked, the country is suddenly buzzing about police corruption and the relevance of the phrase, "I'm here to do push ups."
I am helpless. I am powerless. I can barely use the semi-phonetical pronunciation guide in the back of one of my Beijing travel books (I haven't gotten a handle on the four tones for each character yet).
Such are my thoughts on a typical day here, living as a non-Mandarin speaker. In day-to-day situations, without a translator nearby, I'm basically at the whim of English-speaking hotel front desk employees around town to help me get by.
The only thing that's slightly reassuring in these situations is that there are thousands of people around town like me, surviving by pointing and nodding.
Now, I hadn't been a true third party to the ridiculousness of a conversation between an English speaker and a quasi-English speaker until Friday, when on a BOCOG-sponsored media tour, I witnessed the following scene. Your key players: a translator, two journalists from state-sponsored CCTV and an American university professor. The text, after the jump:
It's Saturday, about 11 a.m. Mexican president Felipe Calderón's entourage (!) has just taken over the Great Wall, leaving hundreds of tourists stranded as El Presidente ascends to the top. I'm wandering around the base of the Wall, past the stores that dot the roads nearby. "I walked the Great Wall" t-shirts are going for $5. Anything with the Olympic mascots sells for $10. Popsicles are a dollar; ice water's a quarter. A tall, Bolivian mocha blend with two shakes of cream is going for $4.
Fast forward to this morning. I'm walking into the U.S. Embassy in town. Around the corner, past the line of Chinese applying for American green cards, through the security line and a trailer building and..... there's another Starbucks. It's the only Starbucks I know of where you need your passport to order a Frappuccino.
Patriotism is playing well in Chinese ads now. The move makes sense; overwhelmingly, the Beijingers I've met are thrilled to be hosting the Games and aren't afraid to wear red around town.
China Merchants Bank is playing off the theme. Here's your ad:
Wilco aside, something pretty remarkable happened today: I opened the curtains this morning to find blinding, beautiful blue skies. And let me say: when the smog clears, this city is really something to see.
Above, that's the scene from the Olympic Stadium about an hour ago, around sundown in Beijing. There's less than a month left until the Games start, and I don't think it's too soon to look at that sky above the stadium and wonder what fireworks -- figuratively and literally -- we'll see there in just a few weeks.
One more photo, after the jump, from a packed Great Wall (and more from the Great Wall coming this Monday):
I had the distinct privilege of going on a media tour sponsored by the Beijing Olympic Committee today. Some have described these tours as "the charm offensive," but I'm happy to report that there was one authentic Beijing experience tossed into the tour today:
I'm talking, of course, about the two hour traffic jam. Distance traveled: approximately 8 to 10 miles.
That doesn't include the two hours stuck in traffic in the early afternoon. And did I mention that during those two hours, our bus had a police escort?
Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go regain sensation in my legs.
One definite plus to lacking Mandarin skills: I haven't had to answer any questions about our President or this Presidential race so far. In Europe this Spring, when I mentioned that I was originally from Washington, D.C., I suddenly became the voice for America, kind of in the way Deadspin's Will Leitch was honorarily appointed the title of "the Internet" on that episode of "Costas Now." And let me say: attempting to represent all of America (or, I suppose, the Internet) right now is not easy.
But over here, I've managed to avoid that discussion so far. Still, some aspects of American life are unavoidable here. When I went to McDonald's for breakfast a few days ago, everyone sitting around me was wearing Nike or Adidas merchandise. One guy was thumbing through his BlackBerry (a Canadian product, actually). On the street, they've got Starbucks and 7-11 (but no Slurpees), Pizza Hut, Papa Johns and Domino's. I've even seen a Bally's Total Fitness gym.
But it's images like the one above -- seen on a tour of a newspaper called the Beijing Youth Daily -- that make me wonder. What's Bush doing in that leotard? Is that Kofi Annan?
If I'm interpreting that image correctly -- America as a reckless superpower, and Saddam Hussein appearing to triple axle out of your bottom right hand corner -- than I have just one more question: where's the figure of Chinese authority in that image?
One definite downside to lacking Mandarin skills: being unable to read strange cartoon critiques of our President.
"I would dig a hole all the way to China, unless, of course, I was there. Then I'd dig my way home." -Dave Matthews, "Dreamgirl."
Ah, the rare Dave Matthews song that leads to blogging, though this post has nothing to do with the
Olympics and everything to do with harnessing the power of Google
Maps. I've been wondering for a few days now exactly where I'd end up
if I tried to dig a hole from from Beijing to the other side of the
world. Of course, the Internet has my answer: somewhere around
Argentina's Rio Colorado.
I'll admit: I've got a soft spot for Coke ads through the years, be they with Mean Joe or Grand Theft Auto. This one, starring reigning 110 meter hurdles champion Liu Xiang and Taiwanese pop star Will Pan, fits into the same mold. Perhaps it seems strange that a hurdler and a pop star would appear in an ad together, but understand that Xiang won China's first ever gold medal in track and field in 2004. He's revered and often-emulated here in China.
Here's the spot:
And one more ad from the same series by Coke, after the jump:
My back's been killing me over here in Beijing -- blame the firm mattresses and even firmer pillows -- so I went for a massage yesterday afternoon. The woman at the front desk brought me into a room and reached for the remote. She flipped the TV over to a random channel. It was the tail end of a Chinese soap opera, and I didn't feel much like watching. I pulled out my notebook and started jotting
down a few notes when I heard this familiar theme song. So I looked up and, on this tiny TV in the corner of the room, I saw the opening credits rolling to a familiar show. An episode of "NBA Inside Stuff" -- featuring this year's
conference finals and highlights from the '87 Celtics-Lakers final --
was on.
Some people like new age music during a massage, or maybe soothing ocean sounds. I'll take the dulcet tones of Ahmad Rashad dubbed over into Mandarin any day.
[As
for the massage: the result was mostly unsuccessful. I wanted a lower
back rub; I ended up with a few minutes of a shoulder rub-down before
the masseuse started whacking rubberized hammers against my feet for
the better part of an hour. (Doc, if you're reading this -- my
reflexes are still good.) She also spent a few minutes heating up a
ball of glass and suctioning it to my feet, though I have no idea what that was supposed to accomplish. But at $10 for an hour and
half, I can't really complain.]
The history is out there already; you're only a Google search away from
China's record with human rights or their past with Tibet or Japan. I
don't think this is the right forum for me to opine on any of those
topics, but here's what I'm sure of: when it comes to talking about the
past, the Chinese are taking a non-confrontational approach this summer.
Take a look at this: like our last edition of So You Think You Can Speak English?,
this conversation is taken from a magazine sent out to Chinese
volunteers for these Olympic Games. The last two lines really say
everything about the way this nation is prepping for Westerners. As was
the case with our previous installment, this text, titled, "Agreement and
Disagreement," was not edited in any way. Click on the
image at right for the full scan of the text.
I have promised hard-hitting reporting here at The Rocky's Summer Olympics blog. I have promised to delve deeper into the conscience of this country. I have promised to connect faces to the big ideas that are changing this nation and the world. But I never expected to pull off a scoop like this, a Rocky exclusive that even Brian Fantana could be proud of. So prepare yourself:
The pandas at the Beijing Zoo support the Dallas Mavericks.
I'll let you take a second to pick your jaw up off the floor.
Yes, it's an unconscionable act of betrayal for the pandas that reside in the Olympic Games Panda House at the Beijing Zoo. Eight of them play in a single habitat, climbing in the trees, gnawing on bamboo and splashing in a small pool. But meanwhile, they kick back with a basketball with a Mavs logo, instead of one from the Houston Rockets, the team of their fellow countryman, Yao Ming.
Maybe things are changing faster here in China than I thought.
So I'm sitting at a table in the Beijing Olympic Media Center,
continuing on The Road to Deportation, when the
volunteer flipping through my passport asks me who I work for.
"The Rocky Mountain News, in Denver, Colorado," I say.
"Denver?" he asks.
"Yes, Denver. Do you know where that is?"
He gives me a sideways look. The kid is a college student from a university here in Beijing. He's got a mop of dyed red hair that's not quite spiky and not quite floppy; it looks more like a Chia Pet after a few hours of growth. His English is surprisingly decent, though like many of the Chinese I've met, he says he's never left the country.
"Yes, I know Denver," he says.
"You do?" I ask. "How?"
A half-sideways look this time. He pulls his head back straight, and says, though measuring the words:
If you're like me, your badminton experience is probably limited to a few days in a high school gym class. I'll spare you the details of my youthful struggles to battle the fates of coordination, but I do believe I share one common thread of the American high school gym experience: the attempt to make as many jokes as is possible in one hour about the game's most central element.
The Chinese, however, take their shuttlecock very seriously. Badminton rackets and other equipment hang in the windows of every sporting good store here. The country has high hopes for its national team, a team that's getting even more exposure through their new Chinese TV ad.
The ad, which partners the team with the Bank of China, is below.
A considerably more entertaining - and less intimidating - ad from their
old sponsor, FedEx, is after the jump:
On the list of must-see things in Beijing, there are two that seem to always make the cut: Tiananmen Square and, just across the street, the Forbidden City. But upon my visit, I was surprised to find an unusual area within the Forbidden City complex that I don't believe dates back to the original emperors who lived in the buildings.
If you're clicking through the Rocky's Olympics blog for the time, take heart: it won't all be irrelevant posts about Chuck Hayes' Chinese shoe deal or pop-a-shot. There will be Olympic news here and, yes, quite a bit of multimedia. After the jump, enjoy our first audio postcard from Beijing.
Congratuations, Maarty Leunen! You've just been selected by the Houston
Rockets with the 54th pick in the NBA Draft, one pick behind some guy
from Serbia and one pick ahead of an NBDL player from Idaho.
You may now collect your Chinese shoe deal.
If you're wondering how a second round pick with an unusual name
who didn't even make First Team All-Pac 10 as a senior could get a shoe
deal over in China, just remember one word: Yao.
There's an old Steve Martin line I've always liked about traveling overseas. "You never really appreciate your own language," he said, "until you go to a country that doesn't have the courtesy to speak English."
Around Beijing, the language barrier is remarkable (I've already
touched on this briefly), but I can't say they're not trying. The
Olympic committee is making an especially strong effort to educate
their Chinese volunteers in the quirks of English. So in tandem with a
local newspaper, Beijing Today, they've been sending out monthly
magazines to Olympic volunteers with a feature they're calling, "At The
English Club." In our first edition of So You Think You Can Speak
English?, I've gotten my hands on an except from one of the magazines.
The Beijing Olympic mascots are called fuwa, or, "good luck dolls," but there's a rumor going around China that's making them seem more like voodoo for this country.
Nini has a kite on its head, representing
Weifang (Weifang is the site of a train crash which killed 72 people,
it is also China's most famous kite manufacturing centre.)
Jingjing is a
panda, representing the Sichuan earthquake - the epicentre of the
earthquake was close to the Wulong Panda Research Centre, China's main
breeding and conservation facility for its beloved national animal.
If there's one thing that's readily apparent just walking around
Beijing, it's this: Adidas may be the official sponsor of the Olympic
Games, but that's not stopping Nike, Reebok or even China's Li Ning
from pushing ads all over town.
So first up in our Olympic Ad
Watch: a TV spot from Adidas that seems to be running about five or 10
times per hour on China's state-sponsored CCTV. The ad says a lot about China's push to present a united front to the world during these Games and about the expectations for Team China next month. Click here to watch the ad.
If you love America, then there is a sight in downtown Beijing - a few
blocks away from Tiananmen Square and the Forbidden City - that just
might warm your heart. In the Wangfujing district, underneath a giant
banner tribute to and an oversized statue of Yao Ming*, there stands a
time-honored testament to everything we hold dear as a country.
I am referring to, of course, the pop-a-shot machine.
If you've spent any amount of time around a boardwalk or a summer
carnival, surely you know of what I speak. Pop-a-shot is a majestic
amalgam of lights and noise, a tribute to youth and summer and cotton
candy and overvalued, oversized teddy bears. The game is simple: there
is a basket, there are a half-dozen, half-inflated miniature
basketballs and there is a countdown clock. When that clock starts,
start shooting. When time's up, collect your prize. Then go find
those skee ball ramps.
Last night, as my cabbie sped past my hotel and onto a strange sidestreet, I found myself gesturing wildly. The cabbie was responding
in an unusual voice straight out of a Charles Schulz cartoon. I'm not
talking about Charlie Brown's teacher; try Snoopy's feathered friend,
Woodstock, instead.
So with my cabbie alternating between a chirp and a
strange whimper, and with my furious pointing taking me only farther
away from my hotel, I said the only thing that really made sense at the
time:
About 20 minutes before landing, the pilot on my United flight from Chicago to Beijing offered a quick weather update.
"Oh, the temperature's about the same as Chicago, and there's very
little wind," he said. Then, without sarcasm or snark, he added this
note: "Visibility's looking about four kilometers today."
Last week, on the day I received my visa, the Chinese embassy in Washington, D.C., gave me an ultimatum.
"If you 'commit journalism,' before you pick up your press credentials," they told me, "you can be detained or deported."
Those last two options need no real elaboration - other than to possibly mention that, yes, freedanoshinsky.com is still available
- but when the embassy started talking about "committing journalism," I
found myself asking a surprisingly existentialist question, at least
among those of us who work in ink: what kind of journalism will we
exactly be committing in Beijing?
