Travel, Relationships, and The New Twenty

In honor of a memorable 2008 Olympics, Lacey and I have invented a new Olympic event.  It’s called the Alternative Triathlon.  Here’s how it works:

1. At the end of each Olympics (perhaps during the closing ceremonies?) three randomly selected events for the following Olympics’ Alternative Triathlon are announced.  For instance, it might be announced that in four years, the Alternative Triathlon will feature ping-pong, weightlifting, and synchronized swimming.
2. Countries choose their athletes as quickly as possible, based on an unprecedented level of athletic versatility (this will event make decathletes look like Oompah-Loompahs in Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory). We suggest a training schedule of one year for each sport or event, with the final year to be used for trials and further versatility training (i.e. “bringing it all together”).  In the example above, the weightlifting training should clearly come first, followed by synchronized swimming in the second year and ping-pong in the third.  Of course, maintenance training would make each subsequent year in the lead-up to the Olympics more intense for the Alternative Triathletes.
3. The Alternative Triathletes will occupy a special place in the opening ceremonies, perhaps with an interpretive dance around the newly lit flame or some other unique function.
4. As with the other “thons,” the events in the Alternative Triathlon (hereafter referred to as “AT”) will take place on consecutive days.  There will also be two further schedule-related requirements.  First, each event will be scheduled at least three days apart from the regular event in the same sport.  In our example, this would mean that AT weightlifting must be scheduled at least three days after the end of regular Olympic weightlifting, AT synchro at least three days after regular synchro, and so on.  This will ensure that Alternative Triathletes still look cool even though they may be just a shade worse at their events than the regular athletes in those events.  The second specification is that the Alternative Triathlon must always be scheduled for the last three days of the games.  Since it will clearly be the most popular event, this will provide a fitting and modern climax to an aging tradition.

And that’s about it.  Comments?  Suggestions?  Please feel free to give us your honest feedback using the poll below (concept courtesy Chinese government):

Poll Answers

Yesterday, exactly one year after leaving the United States, I returned to it.  My excitement was tempered, though, because a typhoon and solidly booked flights (presumably full of other folks returning from the Olympics) is keeping Lacey in Hong Kong, where she was supposed to have a short layover from Beijing! Fortunately, the latest word is that after almost two days of hassle she is installed in a 4-Star hotel and will meet me in San Francisco on Wednesday if she can’t get a flight earlier than that.  For my part, I miss having Lacey to celebrate with, but it does feel good to be back in the US, and the weather in San Francisco is gorgeous.  It’s been quite a year, and I will plan to publish at least one “retrospective” blog post in the fall for those who are interested.

Friday, August 21
The Event: Men’s 10 Meter Platform Diving (Qualifying Round)
The Competitors: Thirty divers from about 20 countries.
The Venue: The Water Cube! The Water Cube and the Bird’s Nest were the two venues we’d heard the most about in the leadup to the Olympics.  But while the exterior and interior of the Bird’s Nest are almost equally fascinating, the inside of the Water Cube is seriously overshadowed by what’s going on outside.  When events end, the Water Cube puts on a show that seems to have a mind of its own, colors shifting and pulsing across its giant bubbled surface in gentle but unpredictable waves (although there is a definite preference for blues and violets, which provide a nice contrast to the reds and yellows of the Bird’s Nest just across the way).  All this is not to say that the inside of the Water Cube isn’t nice, but in many ways it just felt like a giant pool with a lot of seats around it (which it is).  Still, seeing the breathtaking height of the 10 meter diving platform at one end of the pool — 10 meters is well over 30 feet — and being in Michael Phelps’ eight-medal stomping ground were thrills in their own right.

What we knew: We knew that Chinese divers had already taken the gold medal in every other diving event, and that they were probably favored to win this final one, too, although there was one German challenger thought to be dangerous.  But we also knew that we were only watching the first, qualifying round of the three-part event.  So our own final Olympic event was to be more of a laid-back epilogue than a grand climax.

How we prepared: This being our last event, I continued the theme of making some kind of fashion statement, however random, by wearing my red, white and blue Phillies cap with a Chinese flag and an Olympic flag crossed and stuck into the band at the back, plus the (by now routine) American flag draped around my shoulders.  Lacey’s been going the other direction fashion-wise, so she just sported a blue patterned dress (and the flag around her shoulders when she got cold).  The best thing about my own getup was the laughs I got far from the Olympic Green, getting take out dinner in a distant restaurant and walking to the neighborhood subway with double takes the whole way.

Also worth mentioning here is our “Jia you” technique, which by this time we had perfected (although we didn’t use it as much here as at the other events).  Apparently, Chinese sports fans can sometimes get nasty, so before the Olympics the government “suggested” that the official chant for the Olympics would be “Jia you,” which literally means “add oil,” but which translates more like “Come on!” or “Let’s go!”  “You” here is pronounced like “yo.” Sure enough, just as the government suggested, at any event that the Chinese feel passionate about, every minute or two some guy will start yelling “Zhong guo!” (China!) and someone else will immediately pick up the cue and yell “Jia you!”  Soon everyone is chanting back and forth.  In a giant stadium it sounds really awesome.  So anyway, our technique was simple: when the Americans were up, I just yelled “Mei guo!” (USA!) and then added my own “Jia you!” a moment later.  At every event this automatically resulted in the turning of dozens, if not hundreds, of Chinese heads, all flashing huge grins when they saw the Meiguoren (American) who was doing the chant for his own country.  At our women’s volleyball event (when I had the Chinese and American flags on each cheek), I even got some neighbors offering to pick up the “Jia you” for me, and we got a decent “Mei guo . . . jia you” chant going with neighboring sections chiming in.  In the end I think this is more or less what the Olympics are supposed to be all about — breaking down cultural barriers and not getting too crazy with the nationalism — so it was a highly satisfying to connect with people and root for our teams at the same time.

What happened: This is about diving, after all, and there was a lot of it.  Really a lot.  I guess 6 rounds with 30 divers makes 180 dives in all.  So there were countless, breathless pre-dive moments on the platform when no one in the entire place spoke, slow careful headstands 10 meters above the water, dizzying flips and spins, some little splashes, a lot of medium splashes, and a few really big splashes, expressions of stony disappointment or subdued triumph by the divers climbing out of the pool, showers inexplicably broadcast on the big screen, and long stares at the scoreboard while the next diver was already readying himself at the end of the platform.  There was one score of ninety-nine for the top Chinese diver; the two Americans qualified by finishing in sixth and seventh place (the top eighteen divers qualified).  The famous German diver seemed to have underachieved a little, but maybe he was just getting warmed up for the semifinals and finals.  In general, the whole night had a strange lack of rhythm, with one diver after the other spinning off the platform and into the water and not much else, other than the constantly changing scores, to mark the time.  That’s not to say it wasn’t amazing to see what these guys were doing – it was, and I think diving is one of the coolest sports in the Olympics – but taken strictly as an event, it was more like a relaxing two and a half hours of watching waves on the beach than getting all caught up in an actual sporting competition.

Also of note: One of the British divers (who happened to qualify) looked like he was about 14 years old, and we found out later that he was, actually, 14 years old.  Apparently, diving has different minimum age requirements than, say, gymnastics, where the Chinese are currently being (re-)investigated for entering female gymnasts allegedly below the minimum age of 16.

On a different note, if you could say I grew up in any particular generation where diving is concerned, it would have to be the Greg Louganis generation.  This has as much to do with his famous attempt to break the platform with his head as his diving, although from what I remember he was really good at that, too.  Anyway, at our diving event I could feel the master’s legacy haunting me for most of the night.  Using our binoculars and the giant replay screens, I determined that several divers actually grazed the platform with their hair on the way down.  Have we not learned anything from Greg?  Does no one remember the horrified gasps, the blood in the pool, the hair matted across the wet, dripping gash?  Seriously, I think diving is awesome, but if you ask me these guys need to push a little further away from the platform.

Thursday, August 21
The Event: Athletics (various events)
The Competitors: Too many to list
The Venue: The Bird’s Nest!!  In some ways the venue was the star of our night.  Although I have no architectural expertise whatsoever, for me the stadium’s curves conveyed an impression of uplifting contrasts, both soft and soaring, muted and majestic.  I’ll plan to post several photos in an upcoming “Photos” post, so keep your eyes out for it!

What we knew: We knew we’d be seeing several finals, most notably the Men’s 400 meter final, which would feature favored Americans Jeremy Wariner and LaShawn Merrit. We also knew that we had missed a chance to see the Chinese fans at their best (and surely their wildest), since the Men’s 100 meter hurdles final would not feature the injured Liu Xiang, the national hero and defending Olympic champion who limped out for the trials on Tuesday and then limped back off after a few steps.

How we prepared:  We were starting to run out of new outfits and ideas at this point.  Despite a couple inquiries, I hadn’t been able to find an “Obama 08″ shirt to go with my American flag, so I went with my “I [Heart] China shirt” to complement the Stars and Stripes. Also of note: I keep neglecting to mention that we purchased an excellent pair of small binoculars while still in Qingdao (where they were much cheaper than in Beijing), and they served us well at all events, especially this one.

What happened: To be honest, Track and Field is kind of difficult to follow.  There are usually lots of things going on at once; for instance, the Men’s Decathlon High Jump Event, off at one end of the field, literally took the entire night.  And although our seats weren’t terrible, a lot of it was very far away.  That being said, we witnessed a lot of cool (and a couple not-so-cool) things, which I will put in a list since that’s kind of how an evening watching track and field feels.

• The qualifying rounds of the Men’s and Women’s 1500 meters were cool, mostly because four laps around the track is long enough that you can see how utterly exhausting it is, but the Olympic runners are sprinting the entire time.  Props to them.
• The Women’s Javelin final was unexpectedly exciting, with a surprising amount of noise from the crowd as we followed the dominant throws of the Russian who led through all five rounds, only to watch a Czech woman beat her on the incredible second-to-last throw of the night, which fell just centimeters away from the world record.
• The Men’s Triple Jump was cool, but it took too long.  And why, exactly, do they need to jump three times?  Whose idea was this event?
• The Men’s and Women’s 400 meter relay (qualifying round) were horribly disappointing for the Americans.  Both the men’s and women’s team dropped the baton on the final transfer, with the men’s team easily set to qualify and the women’s team leading the field.  Even though I don’t follow track and field at all, watching this happen the second time made me feel sick in that special way that only a lifelong Philadelphia sports fan can.
• Fortunately, the relay disappointments were redeemed quite a bit by a United States SWEEP in the Men’s 400 meters.  This was incredibly exciting, especially because we only took bronze by having our third-best runner (who wasn’t expected to medal) literally dive across the finish line. The gold medal winner, LaShawn Merritt, has apparently been emerging from the shadow of Jeremy Wariner (the defending world champion) this year, so although Jeremy looked a little bitter afterward, it was fun to see Merritt blow away the field on the final straightaway.
• The Men’s 100 meter hurdles were meant to be the climax of the evening, but without Liu Xiang there was a lot less frenzy.  Still, it’s a big event and it was fun to watch Cuban Dayron Robles (who broke Liu Xiang’s record this summer) bound to the gold.  It’s crazy that they can run so fast and jump over all those sawhorses.
• There were a couple other qualifiers, I think, but these are the events I remember best. I think my favorite moment, though, was when the medal ceremony for the Men’s 400 meters was announced (some ceremonies are postponed until the next day).  This meant that we not only got to watch the three US men parade around the stadium with their flags after the race, but we then got to watch them take the stand and receive their medals.  Most importantly, though, for the first and only time in our Olympics, we heard the old “Star-Spangled Banner!”  It was a good moment (and they really play a lovely version at the Olympics).

Also of note: The night’s events were actually interspersed with medal ceremonies, including two or three from the night before.  So aside from hearing our own anthem for the first time, this had a couple other significant repercussions: we got to admire Usain Bolt and his many poses as he accepted his gold medal for the 200 meters from the night before, and I now know the Jamaican national anthem by heart.

As a little diversion from my Olympic “reporting,” I thought I’d share some incredible menu translations that Lacey and I copied down from the menu of “Mao Jia” (Mao’s House) restaurant in Shenzhen, a city outside Hong Kong where we were unexpectedly forced to spend a night during our travels, thanks to Typhoon Kammuri.  Here they are, in no particular order:

•  Flavor Saliva Chicken
• Moo Cow Entrails
• The Real Taste Drunk Fried Fish
• The Pig Tail is SuccessivelyHigh
• Palace Chicken, Bull’s Penis, Soft-Shell Turtle
• Black Bean Steams Intestines
• The Gluttonous Rice Flutters the Fragrant Bone
• Western Hunan Bandit Pig Liver
• Unwearied Effort However Inch Bone
• The Green Pepper Fries the Diesel Oil
• A Chicken (this last complete with a blurry photograph of a plucked, cooked chicken, and nothing else)