Lauren & the Olympics

BMX

2008-08-22T06:20:00.000-07:00

So after three days, BMX completed its debut at the Olympic Games. There was a rain delay yesterday, which postponed the finals to this morning. The weather was baking hot. The mixed zone was the most crowded yet; I clung to an umbrella post in a pile of backpacks, tripods, and BBC workers and tried to think of a way to describe the scene on my blog. Basically, the mixed zone was about five feet wide. There was a wall at least two backpacks deep on one side with tripods sprinkled here and there. On the other side, facing where the athletes wander through, a crowd of at least one to three journalists deep at any given time struggled to flag cyclists over after events. At one point, a reporter got pushed over accidently into my umbrella, and I had to help catch her. While listening in on the BBC interview Shanaze Reade, a British BMX cyclist predicted to take gold but crashed in the final, I got trapped in between a cameraman and his equipment. Luckily, I had already gotten several quotes.

Today, many of the track cyclists were wandering around the media and team area. Theo Bos, Chris Hoy, Jamie Staff, Guo Shuang, Victoria Pendleton, Kevin Sireau, and many others I may have forgotten about or not seen. I heard a rumor that several players from the American basketball team may have been in attendance.

But let's talk BMX. Hardcore, much? Crashes galore, if that's your bag. The first day there was a crash involving Kyle Bennett, from the USA, and Liam Phillips, from Great Britain. Both of the riders dislocated their shoulders, and had them immediately popped back in before leaving the field of play. I took notes on the interview with Phillips when he spoke with the BBC. He was holding his shoulder in, but appeared perfectly normal. He said: "This has been an amazing experience, but it would have been nice to race tomorrow (talking about the finals). You can't race with a dislocated shoulder, but it's back in now (talking nonchalantly about his freshly separated-then-popped-back-in shoulder)." Kyle Bennett went on to ride in the finals, however. I can't imagine what that feels like.

Although I knew of BMX before the Olympics, I never followed it very closely, so I was surprised by the number of crashes. Apparently, it doesn't always involve touching other riders, but rather not being able to control the sheer force and velocity. It was intense.

Unfortunately, America did not win gold. A Latvian rider got gold in the men's, with Mike Day from the U.S. getting silver and Donny Robinson receiving bronze. Two French riders took gold and silver in the women's, with American Jill Kintner earning bronze.

Here's some pictures of the venue and other competition-related things. I stole these from one of my ONS supervisors Amy:

The course.

These stylish bibs can go outdoors as well! The blue army sitting below the media area during time trial qualification runs.

The women racing. In the words of Donny Robinson: "Rad."

Shanaze Reade walking through the notorious broadcast mixed zone. I was stationed directly behind the camera(s) and the blonde head on the left.

The women's medal ceremony.

American bronze medalist Jill Kintner before the press conference. She walked in, set her roses and helmet by her microphone, plopped down in the audience next to an acquaintance from the media (I presumed), and kicked back for a few minutes. I haven't seen other athletes do anything like this. Leave it to an American. It was cool.

During the press conference.

I was disappointed that I haven't seen an American gold medal ceremony yet, but I'm proud we medaled three times in only two events. I hope BMX achieves what it set out to do in the Olympics.

Speaking of disappointing lack of gold medal ceremonies, I attended the softball final last night. U.S.A. versus Japan, the final Olympic softball game ever, at least for a while. We lost. We've never lost. I was moderately upset. Let's not talk about it for now.

Tomorrow is the final day of cycling competition. Because BMX was delayed a day, there is a marathon mountain biking day: men's race in the morning, women's race in the afternoon. The races should take around two hours.

And then it's over?

Sad.

Hoy rules the world and the competition moves to the BMX course

2008-08-19T08:08:00.000-07:00

Today was the end of the track cycling events. It's nearly midnight now, and I have to be on a bus back to the Velodrome at 7 a.m., so quickly, here's the top six things of interest from the day:

6. I tried a piece of dried yak meat. Tasted like fertilizer. Not recommended.

5. Two support staff members for the British team put the tight cycling uniforms on after Chris Hoy's third medal win and did an interview with the BBC, which was the funniest thing I've seen on the field of play at the velodrome.

4. If the British cycling team were its own country, they would be ranked ninth in the overall medal count.

3. Tony Blair and the queen of Spain (separately, not together) were at Laoshan today watching the races.

2. I interviewed and wrote a story about Donny Robinson from the U.S., the No. 1 ranked BMX rider in the world. He was extremely charming and wholesome, even. He says as a "BMXer," he has no time or desire to drink, smoke, or get into trouble, and he wants to be a role model for the young people who watch the sport. Good for him.

(The BMX area, by the way, is awesome, and so was watching the athletes train. It was a different world from the track. Races start tomorrow morning, so more on that later.)

1. Chris Hoy won his third gold medal in five days, making British Olympic history. He wore all three after the third medal ceremony, and they sounded like glasses clinking into the microphone during the press conference. He worked 12 years for this, so kudos to him for accomplishing what many athletes can only dream of.

This photo was taken right after the medal ceremony, when his coach plopped the sponsored sunglasses on the top of his head. Hoy promised to do a dance for all the media if he won three gold medals, but we're still waiting on that as far as I know.

Here's a nice little article on him by Reuters. I listened to him say all this stuff. It's a good article with good quotes:

http://www.blogger.com/Hoy%20Article

We've been watching this man train for two weeks, so I'm glad for him. But now it is time for a shift - a move to the BMX course. Can't wait.

Just another day at the office

2008-08-18T07:35:00.000-07:00

Today in a nutshell...

Dramatic crash during the Women's Points Race

The points race is vicious. For 16 women, it's 100 laps around the velodrome, but like the individual sprint, it is a race that involves both strategy and speed. Every 10 laps, there is a sprint, and the first five riders to finish get points. If you happen to lap the herd, you get an extra 20 points; if you get lapped, you lose 20 points. Cyclists have to watch their competition and choose the right time to try to lap the rest of the riders. It takes monstrous amounts of endurance. Additionally, since the riders move around in a huge pack and follow each other closely for less wind drag, cyclists need good reaction time and agility, as proven today. Amy, our supervisor, predicted there would be a crash, because "there's always a crash in the women's points race."

I was standing in the mixed zone, per usual, turning around in circles to follow the race, and around lap 21, I heard the telltale clunk, clunk, thump sound I've come to recognize as a crash on the track. I've witnessed more than one crash this week, the first was during the very first qualification race; a rider from Poland wiped out on the second lap. Also, Theo Bos crashed during his qualifying shot at the keirin. This collision, however, was more dramatic than the others because of the number of people involved. One of riders accidently clipped another bike with her wheel after the second sprint, causing a snowball crash down a bend (the bends are the elevated sides of the track.. Laoshan's bends are at 42 degree angles). Several riders went down; a Chinese rider barely wobbled and escaped the avalanche of bikes and people. We saw Trine Schmidt from Denmark emerge from the pileup to continue on the race, but Sarah Hammer from the United States was in agony. Amy commented that her collarbone was probably broken by the way she was holding her arm, which is a common injury in track cycling. Riders from Japan and Germany looked hurt as well. Another wound common on the track is burns; when riders fall and slide against the wood, their Spandex-y uniforms burn off on the track or sometimes into their skin. It's brutal. I wrote a little bit about Olympic heartbreak last night, and this is another example. Many of these women only compete in this one race, because there's only three female track cycling events at the Olympics, and in one instant, a wheel can clip another wheel and cause a multiple person tumble that results in a DNF (did not finish) instead of the sought-after Gold.

Clunk, clunk, thump. An unidentified track cycling crash.

What happened to Theo Bos?

Another dramatic story from today is that of Theo Bos from the Netherlands. The Dutch have been plagued so far in the competition: a rider crashed into his coach during training, another rider crashed while practicing on the road and broke both of his arms, and then there's the Beijing downfall of star Dutchman Theo Bos. I wrote a bit about Theo, the speedy golden boy, a while back because he was projected to medal in several events: He holds a world record and was undefeated for a few years. He, however, did not even make it to a final for any of his events. Today was his last chance, and he did not move on to the men's sprint. A few days ago, a Polish rider clipped him during the qualifying round of the keirin, causing him to crash, and it's been downward from there. He finished ninth in the flying 200 meter, the event in which he holds the world record. In an interview, Theo said that his legs don't work any longer, and that no one has to fear his speed. He seemed very glum since his keirin crash, however, and I think the mental part of the game got to him. He's going to 25 years old on August 22. Chris Hoy and many other medalists in their prime are in their 30s, so he's got lots time to recover and reclaim his spot on the podium. I think he'll be fine.

Anyway, my mother asked me to post pictures of Laoshan on my blog. As a personal rule, however, I don't take pictures inside the 'Drome, because it looks unprofessional when people in uniform walk around wielding digital cameras and snapping pictures at athletes and who knows what else during competition. So here's a bunch of images of the velodrome from various websites. Welcome to the office:

Above and below: Pretty much my view during competition.

Great Britain right after winning Gold in the Men's Team Sprint.

When this picture was taken, I was stationed by the BBC and ducking somewhere behind the microphone under the arm of the man on the left, Jamie Staff.

Tuesday is the last day of track competition. I'm working a "double," going in early to hang around the outdoor courses while riders train and then switching over to the track events in the afternoon. BMX and mountain biking begin soon! Move over, Britain. It's time for a little American bike domination. :-)

The British invasion

2008-08-17T06:08:00.000-07:00

I spoke with an excellent friend over Skype last night, and she told me the American media have concentrated most of their coverage on basketball, beach volleyball, and Michael Phelps. I doubt NBC will air any track events, only BMX, so let me give you the lowdown on Laoshan to feed your newfound love for cycling:

British domination.

That's the last two days of competition in 17 letters. So far, the Brits have been the Michael Phelps of the velodrome, a cycling war machine thundering around the track, snatching up any medals in its path. That may sound like a stretch, but it's really not. They're making history.

Chris Hoy, aforementioned Scottish "colossus," as coined by some of the Brit press, has already won two gold medals, and will shoot for his third gold at the men's individual sprint finals. Bradley Wiggins (pictured above), endurance machine, won a gold for the individual pursuit and will go for his second gold at the team pursuit. The British have been doubling up on medals in events, including Ross Edgars, silver in keirin, Steven Burke, bronze in the individual pursuit, Rebecca Romero, gold in women's pursuit, and Wendy Houvenaghel, silver in the women's pursuit.

Any time a cyclist set an Olympic record today, the Brits, not to be outdone, would beat it. I stood in the broadcast mixed zone and watched Anna Meares from Australia set an Olympic record for the flying 200 meter just to have Victoria Pendleton make Olympic history by completing it in less than 11 seconds. Jason Kenny, the 20-year-old gold medalist from the men's team sprint, broke the Olympic record for the flying 200 meter as well. Then, of course, Chris Hoy took his turn, and broke Kenny's less-than-two-minutes-old record, and came a within a half second of beating Theo Bos' world record of 9.7-something seconds. And then (I know, there's more), the men's pursuit team broke a world record. In fact, Bradley Wiggins broke his own Olympic record for the individual pursuit yesterday. It's complete madness. I commented to a BBC camera guy, "It's a good day to be British."

The Brit training area is next to the broadcast mixed zone, so I tend to observe the team when I have downtime. Cyclists are always up on the rollers (an example of a cyclist on rollers to your left), moderate pace, then fast, fast, fast, then moderate. Then they'll get off the rollers and go around and around and around in circles in the open floor area. Sometimes a murky protein beverage will be involved post race. The support staff is always working as well, the mechanics in aprons cleaning the bikes and hanging them on racks. The best part is the coaches encouraging riders during races; they cup their hands around their mouths and bark "Hup! Hup! Hup!" I don't know exactly what they're saying, but it certainly sounds very British. But most of the time, it's just rollers, circles, track, rollers, circles, track, rollers, circles or rollers, circles, race, cool-down circles, rollers, powdered beverage.

To someone who isn't an athlete, it probably sounds monotonous typed out like that. I've been watching the same activities for a week, but to me, it's not monotonous at all. It's inspiring. The Olympics seemingly pop up out of nowhere every couple years, and then, surprise, there's ultra-talented athletes ready to compete. People tend to forget about the preparation; those athletes are spending thousands of hours to get ready for that one race, the cyclists going around and around in circles or the swimmers doing lap after lap. Watching the process really drives home the idea that no matter what you do, you must bust your butt to achieve great things. Succeeding isn't quick like a "Rocky" movie training montage, it takes hours, weeks, years. I sound like one of those inspirational person-running-up-a-mountain posters, but watching the teams practice and compete at the velodrome has showed me only a piece of the dedication that hundreds of teams put into the Olympic Games. Amazing.

All of the dedication I've witnessed also makes the Games a little more heartbreaking as well. I'll be honest, I was bummed when Shane Kelly didn't medal. For those who don't follow cycling: He's a 36-year-old, world championship-winning, record-holding, five-time Olympic veteran from Australia who has won silver and bronze before, but never gold. He's come excruciatingly close. Many journalists still ask questions about the time in Atlanta when his foot slipped from the pedal at the start of a race he was set to win. Kelly took the time to do a quickie interview after a training session last week; he gave me a lot of good material and was a genuinely nice guy. I wrote a "last shot at gold" story for the news service, because this was his final Olympics before retiring from the international cycling scene. He competed in the keirin, one of my favorites, a race in which anything can happen: A herd of cyclists follow behind a progressively accelerating derny (motorbike) for several laps, the scooter takes off, and then the riders sprint, cutting each other off, boxing each other in, pulling ahead, sneaking up, just craziness, to the finish. I don't show preference for any riders while I'm in the mixed zone, meaning no cheering or clapping or reacting emotionally to specific teams, but my eyes were bugging out of my head from trying to keep the adrenaline under control while I watched the riders jostle around the track. Toward the end, however, my heart sank a little. Much to my discontent, Kelly finished fourth. That being said, he gave it a fantastic run. After the race, Ross Edgars, the bronze medalist, made several comments about having to fend Kelly off.

So I say cheers to Shane Kelly and his accomplished cycling career, with or without Olympic gold. And that is that.

COMPETITION BEGINS!

2008-08-15T21:18:00.000-07:00

Friday rang in the beginning of the track cycling events: the Men's Team Sprint qualifying rounds and finals, as well as the qualifying rounds for the Individual Men's and Women's Pursuits. I began the day in the press mixed zone, ended up down in the office for awhile, and then finished in the broadcast mixed zone. Being in the broadcast mixed zone is tricky business; you have to silently squeeze in by interviews, quote the athletes, make sure not to bump into/knock over any equipment, and whatever you do, never, EVER get in the shot. I happened to sandwiched between the Australians and Germans during the team sprint finals: Australians vs. Germans for bronze (ironic spot?) and Great Britain vs. France for gold and silver. The results: Great Britain dethroned France for gold, and the Germans beat out the Aussies by .008 seconds for the bronze.

It was like looking through a cycling kaleidoscope: The Australian coach squatting on the bottom of the track, waving his arms furiously for the team to haul faster; a German, post race, sitting on the steps with his face buried in a paper bag trying to keep it together; French team members barking encouragement from the training area during the race; Chris Hoy, hanging over the barrier to the spectator area, hugging his family and signing autographs; an event coordinator wearing a headpiece, pushing teams away from the journalists because, "THE MEDAL CEREMONY CANNOT WAIT! They will come back!"; Arnaud Tournant wearing a shirt with "Happy Birthday, Mom" in French scrawled on it.. there are many elements in an event, and it's fascinating seeing it all come together behind the scenes.

Here's a YouTube video of the medal ceremony from the Men's Team Sprint, as shown by the BBC. At 2:15, this is the view from the press mixed zone, where I started my day. Directly under the French, British, and German flags, see bright yellow and green barriers? This is the broadcast mixed zone, where I viewed both races in the Aussie German sandwich. Pretty fantastic, eh?

Today is my favorite event, the Keirin, in addition to two other medal competitions. I have much more to write about that happened this week, including interviews with athletes and a SWAT team saving my now-useless ATM card, so stay tuned.

Opening Ceremonies Madness

2008-08-08T18:09:00.000-07:00

The majority of our Purdue group went to Paul's, the aforementioned North American-style diner owned by a Canadian, to watch the Opening Ceremonies on NBC via satellite television. A handful of us, however, including myself, wanted to experience the next best thing to being in the Bird's Nest. Tiananmen Square doesn't have screens to play live feeds, so Alysha, Chris, Kelsey, Val, and I took a gamble on Wangfujing, a car-less shopping area located next to the Oriental Plaza Mall and the flagship Olympics store. Chris calls it the "Times Square of Beijing"; it has beverage stands, cosmopolitan shops, and most importantly, huge screens. There were rumors there wouldn't be an outdoor broadcast, but stubbornly, we took the subway there anyway, looking for a miracle.

It paid off ten-fold.

Wangfujing was madness, completely perfect Opening Ceremonies madness. We arrived about an hour before the ceremony was scheduled to begin, and hundreds of people were already rallying for China, chanting into megaphones, pumping their fists in the air, waving huge Chinese and Beijing Olympics flags. People wore stickers on their faces and tied red headbands around their foreheads. Our spots were great, less than 50 yards from the screen without any major visual obstructions. Thousands of people soon filled the plaza. Brazilians wearing bright green wigs, football-style face paint, and yellow jerseys climbed onto each other's shoulders. Men from the Netherlands in orange joker hats serenaded passers-by with their national anthem. Germans, Australians, and Russians shook their flags in the air. Mexico, Venezuela, Sweden, Hungary, New Zealand, France, Estonia, Ireland, Italy, and God bless it, America, all had representatives cheering wildly in the sea of Chinese spectators. It was like a European football championship without any animosity. When one country chanted loudly, the Chinese would start chanting louder, but it was all good humored. All of us were proud to be there, in the heart of Beijing, celebrating the greatest event in sports that brings the world together.

China's communal spirit goodheartedly ruled the crowd; when the ceremony first sparkled across the screen, everyone sat on the ground so we could all see equally. People climbing in nearby trees were shooed down to prevent injuries. Human chains formed passageways for people looking to leave or get into the plaza.

The Opening Ceremonies gave me chills. Stunning, regal, ornate, absolutely gorgeous. I felt very proud of China. This is the place I've fallen in love with for the past five weeks, I thought. Please give it a chance.

When athletes began to march into the Bird's Nest, however, the crowd became even more jubilant. Everyone cheered for each other's country. The Chinese went nutty for Taipei, Hong Kong, Korea, Venezuela, and Russia. All the foreigners hollered for their favorites as well. When the slew of American athletes went around the track, we almost lost our voices whooping "U-S-A! MAY-GUAH!" The Chinese cheered with furor for the U.S., but there were a few murmurs when President Bush was shown. The only country booed was Japan.

Slick with sweat, we wandered out of the hullabaloo to get water from a nearby popsicle stand. As we took pictures with random people and breathed some fresh air, the Chinese athletes arrived, and the masses erupted. People ran back into the crowd, breathless, delighted, screaming.

Shortly after, we opted to take a taxi back to the university to avoid the inevitable mass exodus from the plaza. The streets of Beijing were empty, and we made it to the dorm in time to watch the torch ignite the Olympic cauldron.

Although I didn't get to see the ceremonies at the Nest, the night couldn't have been more perfect:

I took video of the all the commotion. I hope to upload it later, but right now I'm off to see if I can catch a glimpse of the cycling road race today; I want to explore the city again and see the changes that have been made in the past two weeks.

You too can be a cycling expert

2008-08-07T12:59:00.000-07:00

Behold, the mighty Olympic News Service bib!

Not to be confused with lead aprons people wear while getting x-rays or smocks to finger-paint in, these stunning items distinguish us ONS workers from the rest of the Blue Army, complete with glow-in-the-dark lettering and two plastic clips on each side so we can't fall out.

My job until competition? Stroll around the field of play wearing this beauty while cyclists practice, interview athletes post-training, enter the quotes into system and/or write the story. As I predicted, the last two days have been infinitely more exciting than Tuesday. The track cycling "high rollers" (yes, the puns are almost limitless) have arrived: Great Britain, France, and the Netherlands. I have not yet seen the Australians, another formidable cycling powerhouse.

Track cycling isn't popular in America, so readers back in the States may not recognize the names, but I've been watching Theo Bos, Chris Hoy, Bradley Wiggins, Rebecca Romero, and Arnaud Tournant tool around the Velodrome. There are eight Olympic medals between these cyclists.

Today I took back-up notes for Andrea when she interviewed French cyclist Tournant, pictured below.

A world record holder, he has gold, silver, and bronze medals from past Olympics. Tournant will let a reporter, or an entire room full of reporters, know when he's displeased: He once had a fierce stare down with a journalist he didn't like during a press conference and wouldn't speak until said journalist left the room, so we were slightly anxious going into the interview. Tournant, however, was extremely pleasant and accommodating. He answered all of Andrea's questions as thoroughly as possible with charm and a friendly sense of humor.

There are a few younger French riders who are experiencing their first Olympics. During the interview, I looked over and noticed one of them taking pictures of the track, the ceiling, and Andrea and me (in our glorious bibs) talking to Tournant. Pictures of the flash quote reporters? It's comforting to know I'm not the only one who's a little awestruck being here.

So in honor of the European athletes I've been observing and all my non-track-cycling-oriented American friends back home, let's do a crash course in one event right now.

INDIVIDUAL SPRINT 101

The event: Individual sprint

What it is: A three-lap race around the Velodrome between two riders

In plain English: Although it is a "three-lap race," the riders don't immediately take off and ride three laps as quickly as possible. The sprint is strategic; the entire race isn't clocked, and the ultimate goal is to cross the finish line first, not break time records. For the first lap or so, the two cyclists play cat and mouse, watching each other, keeping track of each other's positions, and anticipating the next move. Some cyclists prefer to be in front, others, behind; sprinters have been known to come to a standstill, balancing on their bikes, waiting for the opponent to take the next step. You don't want to be too far behind or vulnerable for an attack. Eventually, one of the riders will "drop" into the sprint lane, and then the explosive racing begins. If a rider gets too far behind or doesn't pay attention, his or her opponent may drop into a sprint sooner, and hope the straggler doesn't catch up. If a rider drops into a sprint too soon, however, there is a chance he or she will be overtaken.

Other tidbits: Endurance cyclists look wiry and lean, like Lance Armstrong. Sprint cyclists, however, are stacked with mounds of muscle, and look like they could snap a cinder block with their thighs without blinking or straining themselves. This shows how much power and strength is needed to blast and maneuver a bike around the track for a few laps.

Let's watch an example involving two of the cyclists hanging around Laoshan for the past two days.

The race: 2008 World Championships in Manchester

The contenders:

IN THE ORANGE

Theo Bos (Tay-Oh Boss)

24 years old

Netherlands

a.k.a. Dutch golden boy

Athens silver medalist (sprint)

Five-time world champion

Will ride a bike worth almost U.S. $800,000 at the Beijing Olympics

IN THE BLUE AND RED

Chris Hoy

32 years old

Great Britain

a.k.a. Scottish track colossus

Athens gold medalist (1 km time trial)

Sydney silver medalist (team sprint)

Nine-time world champion

Used to ride junior BMX, but switched to track. Ironically, the 1 km time trial, his signature event, was replaced by BMX this year at the Olympics, so he transferred his skills to the individual sprint.

Again, Theo is in the orange (the Dutch always wear orange) and Chris is in red and blue. I'm not going to tell you what happens, because it is exciting! Watch for yourself:

See how track cycling is packed with adrenaline? And now you can wow your friends with your knowledge of the individual sprint and two of its favorites for gold this year.

I may be an arm's length away from this rematch in a few days.

The opening ceremonies are tonight, so I'm going to scope out the city and see if any outdoor spots will have a live feed playing. If not, I will join my comrades at a North American-style diner to watch NBC via satellite. We shall see.

This is what happens when I blog at 4 a.m.

2008-08-05T09:29:00.000-07:00

Random blog, anyone?

I fell asleep several hours ago on accident in my uniform and with the light on. My roommate's iTunes happened to play a '90s industrial song, and I popped up out of a deep slumber to ask, "(Title of the song), seriously? Have you seen this music video?" (She had not seen it.) I didn't bring my iPod to China, which happens to be filled with '90s music. Bad decision. I miss my extensive, embarrassing Nine Inch Nails and other bands-that-will-remain-anonymous collection. A lot of people have been blogging about what they miss from home. Besides my family, friends, iPod, and the convenience of having a clothes dryer, I'm pretty set right now.

Today we watched a few cycling teams train at the Velodrome. It was supposed to be a wild and crazy day filled with flash quoting the piles of cyclists milling about; instead it was pretty relaxed. I even sat in the stands for a while with the rest of the Blue Army (all the Chinese volunteers at Laoshan wear the same uniforms as us, but they move in a huge unit, hundreds of people deep.. hence "Blue Army"). The view of the track from the stands is awesome. Tomorrow there will be even more athletes to interview and we can get stuff cracking. The opening ceremony is in two days, but the track cycling events don't begin until the second week of competition. I'm sure my observations of the Olympic front will become more exciting as the Games progress.

Speaking of excitement, the other day Andrea and I tried to ride on one of the electrical scooters that the "runners" use to get around the Laoshan Bicycle Cluster. Here's a picture I stole from Traci's blog:

I imagined Andrea and me heroically sailing toward the mixed zone like Che Guevara and Alberto Granado riding on "The Mighty One" in Los Diarios Motocicletas. As we bumbled and nearly crashed on a 20-yard stretch, however, we looked more like Lloyd Christmas and Harry Dunne from Dumb and Dumber. Passers-by watched in horror as I narrowly avoided smashing over a high curb and into a fence. Slick electrical scooters that everyone else can steer: Who needs them? Pish! Not me. But I do dream about taking one of those gadgets (or even better, a Segway) on the BMX or mountain track at dangerously high speeds, so it's probably best if I don't get too close.. not that I could even get it up to the track without wiping out. Believe it or not, I'm really a non-issue at this point.

It's 3:44 a.m. in Beijing. I took the law into my hands yesterday morning and woke my roommate up with Peking Opera music because she was ignoring her alarm again. Although she already got revenge by painting my toenails pink and purple with sloppy flower detailing, I should go to bed so I don't get a taste of my own morning treatment, which probably tastes like the grass flower gum I buy at the supermarket on campus or a block of pig's blood.

Beijing Huanying Ni (Beijing welcomes you)

2008-08-04T08:02:00.000-07:00

Chinese music has a knack for popular musician collaborations, à la "We Are the World." I hear songs with numerous distinctive artists, a group chorus, and dramatic cymbal crescendos. Wal-Mart. The mall. Campus supermarket. Taxis. Airplanes after landing. Sometimes I'm tempted to wave my arms in the air, slowly and with feeling, to the melody. This one, "Beijing Huanying Ni," is played everywhere with the Games beginning in less than four days and happens to be my personal favorite. It was the official theme song for the 100 days to the Olympics countdown.

The song and music video give me the fuzziest of warm fuzzy feelings. I particularly enjoy the video; it's done well, shares a lot of iconic spots in Beijing I've seen, and features popular artists from China mainland as well as Hong Kong. The title means "Beijing Welcomes You." When I hear this song, I think, "Oh, shucks, Beijing, thanks. You're extraordinary, too."

Two notable things to look for are Jackie Chan, on the Great Wall, no less, at the beginning of the first chorus, and Peking Opera singers at 3:17 (you'll know it when you see/hear it). I provided the English translation of the lyrics below. Get in the Olympic host city spirit:

"Beijing Welcomes You"

Welcoming in another dawn, Bringing along fresh new air,
The atmosphere has changed but emotions remain the same,

Aromas of tea fill the air with friendly feelings.

The doors to my home are always open,

My arms are open waiting for you,
After a warm embrace you’ll have a tacit understanding,

And you’ll fall in love with this place.
People near or far are all our guests,

So please don’t be shy,
Let’s make arrangements and meet together,

We all welcome you.

My house is full of evergreens, Blossoming with each new legend,
Sowing seeds for our traditional land,

Planting memories just for you.
Strangers and familiar faces are all our guests,

So please, no need to be formal,
It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve been here,

There are too many topics to discuss.

Beijing welcomes you,

Opening the sky and breaking land for you,
Our mesmerizing movements are filled with lively energy.
Beijing welcomes you,

Sharing the same breath of air under the sun,
Creating ground breaking achievements on this yellow land.

The doors to my home are always open,

Openly accommodating the sky and land,
Youthful smiles bloom over the years,

Welcoming in this special day.
Everyone between the sky and land are our friends,

So please don’t be shy,
Paintings and poems contain our cheerful intentions,

Because we’re waiting for you.

Beijing welcomes you,

Like music, emotionally moving you,
Let us all work hard and try to excel ourselves.
Beijing welcomes you,

Anyone with a dream is extraordinary,
With courage there will always be miracles.
Beijing welcomes you,

Opening the sky and breaking land for you,
Our mesmerizing movements are filled with lively energy.

Beijing welcomes you,

Sharing the same breath of air under the sun,
Creating ground breaking achievements on the yellow land.
Beijing welcomes you,

Like music, emotionally moving you,
Let us all work hard and try to excel ourselves.
Beijing welcomes you,

Anyone with a dream is extraordinary,
With courage there will always be miracles.

The doors to my home are always open,

My arms are open waiting for you,
After a warm embrace you’ll have a tacit understanding,

And you’ll fall in love with this place.
People near or far are all our guests,

So please don’t be shy,
Let’s make arrangements and meet together,

We all welcome you.

Beijing welcomes you,

Opening the sky and breaking land for you,
Our mesmerizing movements are filled with lively energy.
Beijing welcomes you,

Sharing the same breath of air under the sun,
Creating ground breaking achievements on the yellow land.

The doors to my home are always open,

Openly accommodating the sky and land,
Youthful smiles bloom over the years,

Welcoming in this special day.
Everyone between the sky and land are our friends,

So please don’t be shy,
Paintings and poems contain our cheerful intentions,

Because we’re waiting for you.

Beijing welcomes you,

Like music, emotionally moving you,
Let us all work hard and try to excel ourselves.
Beijing welcomes you,

Anyone with a dream is extraordinary,
With courage there will always be miracles.

Beijing welcomes you,

Opening the sky and breaking land for you,
Our mesmerizing movements are filled with lively energy.
Beijing welcomes you,

Sharing the same breath of air under the sun,
Creating ground breaking achievements on the yellow land.
Beijing welcomes you,

Like music, emotionally moving you,
Let us all work hard and try to excel ourselves.

Beijing welcomes you,

Anyone with a dream is extraordinary,
With courage there will always be miracles.
Beijing welcomes you, anyone with a dream is extraordinary,
With courage there will always be miracles.
Beijing welcomes you, anyone with a dream is extraordinary.

Athletes, athletes everywhere

2008-08-02T19:30:00.000-07:00

We don't have to work until 2:30 p.m. today, so most of the group (minus Traci, who has a sinus infection) wandered out for Andrea's birthday last night. Her official birthday is on Tuesday, but we have to be at the Velodrome most days until our departures after this. We stopped at the Stanlitun bar street. Many of the trees lining the street are made of or covered in holiday lights. It was a nice effect. We sat outside and people watched for a while. (Apparently, a daiquiri is clear and comes straight with lemon garnishes in a chilled cocktail glass?) For the last month, many times, we were the only non-Chinese people in an area when we went out. Now, you can tell the Olympics have come to Beijing. Athletic foreigners everywhere. We met two Croatian swimmers, and later in the evening, I made two Irish swimmers take a picture with Andrea for a little birthday embarrassment. She claims she was mortified but I think she liked it; one day she'll appreciate the picture. It was a laid-back, social atmosphere. I recognized a few coaches as well, walking up and down the street, just "seeing the sights."

Thought I would share.

Lonely seaweed and what I've learned (so far)

2008-08-01T14:11:00.001-07:00

Many of the media volunteers went to dinner after work at Laoshan the other night. One of our new local friends, Eric, who also attends the CUC, gave a few of us Chinese names. He looked at our first and last names to conjure up similar-sounding pronunciations. Andrea Thomas is Tong An-Li (the family name goes before the given name in China). Traci's means "Shiny Green Thing" and one of our bosses Amy's means "Tree Blowing Weeds Eyebrow." Mine, Han Luo Rui, was explained like this:

"You know when there is a lot of seaweed, and it slowly descends in the water? The weeds are tangled. It is a very emotional situation; lonely and beautiful."

He went on to say a famous Chinese poet once wrote about it. My name's characters, however, are so complicated that Li, our other new friend, laughed, and Raul, a manager at Laoshan, couldn't read it. Too bad. I was looking forward to getting a huge tattoo on my lower back (sarcasm). But I appreciated Eric taking the time to give me a poetic name. A lot of locals have English names, so I wanted a Chinese name; I just keep forgetting how to pronounce it. I'm excited we're finally forming relationships with students here. Before this, we really haven't been able to make any friends from China because of the language issue. I got to discuss the Chinese mainland music scene with Eric, something I've been itching to hear about. His favorite band is Muse as well. Excellent taste transcends a lot of things, I suppose.

It's just before 6 a.m. in Beijing right now. The sky is blue with a few random strokes of white cloud. The outline of dark green mountains is visible just beyond the edge of the city. A flock of small black birds fly above the skyline. Tomorrow I will have been in China for a month. Except for a sick day and a grouchy subway ride, I have loved every second of this country, which is probably clear from the happy-go-lucky nature of my blog. But all the things I write are sincere.

A lot of people have asked me about China, but not what I've learned from it so far. Being on the other side of the world makes you proud of your home. I love America. I'm proud every time I answer "May-Guah" (Mandarin for America) to the question, "Where are you from?" I love diversity, the blues, brave people, loud voices, East Coast attitude, Southern hospitality, American political debates, the right to vote, Wall Street, agriculture, the first amendment, regional accents, deep dish, Republicans, Democrats, Libertarians, Socialists, Purdue vs. IU, Roe v. Wade, Brown v. Board of Education, travel, fireworks, rap, country, habeas corpus, skyscrapers, Hollywood, unions, business owners, corporations, mom and pops, beaches, mountains, swamps, snow, deserts, the Sox, the Cubs, anybody but the Patriots, and apple pie, warmed, no cheese, ice cream on the side.

I adore the crazy, hodge podge, history-shaping country I call home. But what I love is a country, a hunk of land, not a bubble. Young Americans need to realize that beyond our borders and gorgeous shores there is more than just Mexico and Canada. There is a whole world, a whole community of countries filled with people who are going to affect the United States' future. There are people sitting in Germany and Australia who know more about the presidential race than many Americans. Unless there's a catastrophic plane crash, many Americans don't hear about other parts of the globe. We talk about education and how we need to keep up with the rest of the world, but the lack of a global perspective contributes to "falling behind." Just because we've blazed trails before doesn't mean other countries won't and aren't already doing it, and stubbornly sitting alone in the corner at the "world party" isn't going to help our vitality. We have problems to fix at home, but what happens abroad is going to affect those problems and how we fix them.

This isn't a grim outlook, because we're smart, and we're capable; we just need to open our window and see how the neighbors are doing sometime.

Working it at Laoshan

2008-07-31T08:07:00.000-07:00

The days of wearing the mighty, mighty Olympic volunteer uniform have begun. We've been reporting to work at the Laoshan Velodrome every day this week to receive more thorough training for our positions as flash quote reporters.

It is awesome.

We've been learning piles and piles of knowledge about track cycling and its athletes; we've also been running through the flash quote procedure: Interview athletes/take notes in mixed zone, and in less than 10 minutes, sprint like hell to workroom and pound quotes into computer system. The flash quote reporters will be with the press about five feet from the track, with only a short wall of thick-paned glass separating us from the races. We also may get stuck behind the stage like big goobers during the medal ceremonies, in all our fanny pack and bucket hat glory. It is predicted that some records may be broken this year.

Today we got to watch the Chinese cycling team while it performed some practice laps. I may be a dork, but it gave me goosebumps. The reality that I'm part of the Olympics this year is finally sinking in. Up until this point, the fact I was in China was exciting enough. Now the Olympics? I'm going to pop. We have the day off tomorrow, but back to work on Saturday and pretty much for the rest of the time here. I can't wait.

It's a little bit past the halfway point of this trip to the Peoples' Republic. I have a big "3.5 weeks of China" blog cooking up in my head, but right now I am exhausted.

Blog from Pudong

2008-07-28T05:39:00.000-07:00

** Typed in Microsoft Word, Sunday, 7.27.2008**

I don't have Internet right now at the Pudong International Airport, so I'm going to transcribe this blog entry when I get back to the CUC, since Blogger charmingly does not allow me to copy and paste text. It's 4:13 p.m. Sunday in Shanghai. I'm listening to the Muzak version of "My Heart Will Go On" at the eatery Spices, which overlooks the highway and terminals. I'm not extremely hungry, but I didn't want to sit in the middle of the hullabaloo by the China Air check-in. I ordered turtle and ginseng soup in honor of my brother's and my favorite show when we were little, "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles."

Whenever Shredder yelled, "I'm going to turn you into turtle soup!", I imagined it would be a generic, lime-green bisque. Not so much – the turtle in my bowl met a much more violent-looking end. But it tastes legit, like a lean chicken soup. I think I ate some shell. I am avoiding the spinal cord.

My flight leaves around 9, so it's too soon to check in. Earlier, I was paranoid I would get lost and not make it here on time. Traci's flight is out of the more centrally located Shanghai Hongqiao Airport, where we arrived from Beijing a few days ago. My flight is out of Pudong, so we had to part ways. I faced a bit of a dilemma. A taxi ride to Pudong would have been about 170 to 200 yuan (about $25 to $30). I only have 200 yuan on me right now, which wouldn't have been that big of an issue, but the subway is going to be closed for the night when I land in Beijing and I wouldn't have any scrilla for a taxi ride back to the university. I wanted to take the floating train anyway; however, that meant I would have to find my way around Shanghai solo to the subway and the maglev. Shanghai, although more Western than Beijing, is definitely more difficult to navigate than China's capital because of all the Olympic preparations. There are many signs, but they're in Chinese characters. Being a broke college grad, however, and too stubborn to find an ATM, I opted to hike through Shanghai after seeing Traci off in her taxi. I got two sets of directions from the front desk ladies at the hostel:

1. "Go up all the way, turn right, go four blocks."

2. "Go this way four blocks and turn right."

I went with the second morsel of advice. It led me to a large, car-less shopping area we visited the first day in Shanghai, but I couldn't find any subway signs. I used my new Mandarin book and asked around, the whole time grumbling, "Ok, Shanghai subway, you could be a little more conspicuous," in my head. A security guard finally directed me past a few stores, and then, hello, the subway station could not have been more conspicuous. It is the biggest subway station I've seen in China so far. It had a Watsom's convenience store and restaurant inside. I ate my words. The green line, in fact, takes passengers directly to the maglev station, which takes passengers directly to the airport, so it would take a dopey foreigner to mess up such an easy trip.

Just like the German men and hostel squatter said, the maglev was awesome. It was so cool, I probably would have taken it to the airport and back even if I didn't have a flight. The train, which looks like it's straight out of the "Jetsons," actually levitates a little above the track. The whole voyage took about six or seven minutes, and we reached 420 kilometers per hour. The cabin tilted and shook as the maglev reached its highest speed. I took a video so I could share the view of how fast the landscape zipped by the window. I may put it up along with others from Shanghai when I figure out how to post things on YouTube. Unfortunately, the best/most stunning part of the trip occurred right after I turned off the camera. I was sitting, like the unabashed super tourist I am, with my face practically pressed against the window when the other maglev passed by. "Passed by" isn't the best description; it startled the bejesus out of me. The entire train roared by the window in less than a second. Math: If two maglevs racing toward each other are each going 1/3 the speed of sound, the impact would be 2/3 the speed of sound, right? I can't call Stephanie my algebra tutor right now to confirm this, but I can assure you it will make you jump if you aren't expecting it. I may or may not have made an audible noise of surprise.

The whole trip from the hostel to the airport took about an hour and cost 54 yuan ($7.90).

God bless inexpensive, high-tech, entertaining public transit in China.

XinTiandi

2008-07-26T21:16:00.000-07:00

Upon recommendation from Patrick, Traci and I hit up Shanghai's XinTiandi area last night. It was definitely worth it. The pictures don't really do the atmosphere justice:

There were stylish bars and lounges (along with a few stores and bakeries, a cineplex, and a Coldstone) with alfresco seating on both sides of a narrow alleyway: classy, deliberately trendy, and a little romantic at times. There were quite a few awkward dates in progress, so we did some quality people watching and body language analyzing. The prices were, well, pricey, but there was an interesting crowd. There seemed to be a lot of wealthy businesspeople milling about from place to place. Traci and I stopped in a German restaurant, Paulaner, and were seated with three older men from Switzerland and Germany. They were in town for a textile conference, and were pretty insightful on topics like U.S. politics and travel. One spoke English, German, Turkish, Spanish, French, and Italian. His mother was from Peru, so he mopped the floor with my bad Spanish. There was a Chinese cover band playing songs from Abba and Shakira; that was entertaining as well.

Today I have to find the Pudong airport. I may talk to someone from the hostel to get directions and figure out where the subway stop is around here, because I want to take the maglev. The gentlemen from last night (and a random person sitting nearby in the hostel lounge) recommended it. It's a magnetically levitating train that goes up to 300 miles per hour and takes you directly to the airport. I'm down for that.

Shanghai Day Two

2008-07-26T03:01:00.000-07:00

After watching Chinese soap operas last night (which were intentionally hilarious) and sleeping in until 10, Traci and I walked around Shanghai for seven-ish hours today. Our original plan was to find the YanYuan Garden and a famous dumpling joint nearby, the NanXiang Restaurant. We followed street signs around the city, and ended up in a huge market.

There were blocks and blocks of merchants, some high end, some not-so-high end, and per usual, the random "Prada bag" pushers. I've gotten quite good at graciously saying no, usually a little "xie xie" or "dwee bu qi" or a "ting bu doong, xie xie, boo yao, dwee bu qi, xie xie" super combo. Today, however, men were trying to sell us Beijing Summer Games 2008 T-shirts, so I flashed my name-tag/venue pass and said "Thank you, but I work at the Olympics! I don't need a shirt; I'm sorry!" Then one of them claimed he loved me and left us alone. It was fairly funny.

Traci and I circled the area for a few hours in search of the dumpling restaurant, and eventually gave into another dumpling spot, the DND. It was good enough. Just now, we realized the place we were seeking might be tucked inside/behind of the City of God temple, which we passed, but it didn't look like there was anything other than the visible statues, etc., so we may check it out tomorrow before we leave. We finally found the garden by mistake, though.

After, we headed back over the river (on my favorite ferry) to go up in the Oriental Pearl Tower, but it cost $100 yuan, so Traci and I decided to skip it. I didn't particularly enjoy the CN Tower in Toronto (especially the part when they claimed the tower was the tallest in the world even though they count the CN's antenna and not the Sears Tower's, which would clearly make the Sears Tower taller.. bitterness!), so I wasn't too bummed. It was a great view from below, but even better were the rules for entry into the tower posted outside:

No. 1: "The ragamuffin, drunken people, and psychotics are forbidden to enter the Tower."

My feet were a little too black with filth, so we figured we might get rejected anyway, based on the rules. My mom always used to call me a ragamuffin, so I was tickled it was used on an official sign.

My flight back to Beijing is at 9 p.m. tomorrow, and I'll be sad to leave Shanghai. I'm glad I came, and I hope to return.

Bay-Jing to Shong-Hi to the Hamburger King.

2008-07-25T04:35:00.000-07:00

So my roommate Traci and I jet-setted to Shanghai today. The preparation before the two-hour flight, however, was the most frustrating 24 hours of my experience so far. Nobody's fault in particular, but the language barrier, travel agent, and myself did not make a good communication mix. It ended in 22 text messages in Chinese characters, multiple e-mails, several phone calls, and accidently canceled flights. Traci and I are blogging from a hostel that we're not even staying at in the city, so to get the good version of Thursday's trip-booking fiasco, check out Traci's super blog: badinageetc.blogspot.com.

But now we're here, and Shanghai has been nuts so far. And when I say nuts, I mean good.

Our plane arrived around 9-something in the morning, and we noticed differences between our old stomping ground, "Bay-Jing" (that is the correct pronunciation, in case you were wondering, which I'm sure you've lost sleep over), and "Shong-Hi" (same). Driving in Beijing is like a slow-paced round of bumper cars. Taking a taxi in Shanghai, however, is like being in the game "Grand Theft Auto." Our taxi driver broke up entire herds of mopeds, plowed down the left lane head-on, and cut off buses with his zippy Volkswagen Santana 3000. He was efficient, to say the least, and knew how to work Shanghai traffic. I was comfortable in his possession, but I think my roommate from last year, Mike, the proud Jersey driver, has finally met his match.

After an hour battle through the streets, our cabbie dropped us off around a hostel we researched, but there were no beds left. Luckily, the woman at the front desk called a nearby hotel and arranged a discounted rate, about $30 U.S. dollars a night for the both of us. Unfortunately, the beds are even more firm and springy than at the university back in Beijing, but the room has air conditioning and a Western toilet, so I think it's pretty luxurious. After de-scumming from the morning commute across China, we set out to explore the city.

Like many big cities, Shanghai has multiple personalities. But Shanghai's are fantastically condensed. First, you're in a cozy Chicago neighborhood. Then, you're definitely in China. Then Europe. And lastly, you see the Pudong skyline, which reveals a cosmopolitan city like New York. Take a look; all of these pictures were taken during the short walk from the hotel to the ferry:

I really like this city. Like Beijing, everything is an adventure, but here it is much more intense. The city bustles. Flocks of mopeds rush through narrow streets the similar to the French Quarter in New Orleans. One misstep and you could get mowed down. Restauranteurs aggressively try to flag you into holes-in-the-wall with trays of food on display in open windows. Posh, dimly lit bistros; people steaming dumplings on the street corners. High-end shopping malls; fake Prada. Danger: Traci and I have already been stalked by a man wearing a women's wig and carrying a Mini Mouse bag. Intrigue: We have to navigate the city alone for the next two days on a limited budget and even more limited Mandarin.

You get the point. But honestly, this place is a feast for swashbucklers like Gillig and myself. (Swashbuckler was listed as an synonym for adventurer, what can I say?)

Besides getting stalked by Mr. Mini Mouse (we noticed him and a friend following us, stopping when we stopped walking, etc., so we went directly to a bank with heavy police presence, and the situation was resolved, meaning they lurked away asap), Traci and I took a boat tour around the Bund.

Other tourists taking pictures of themselves by the Pudong skyline.

My picture was not as good.

It was nice to see the architecture and sit in the breeze, but I enjoyed our ferry ride across river with the locals much more. For a half yuan (7 or 8 U.S. cents), Traci and I crammed onto a ferry with a couple hundred mopeds. We were the only foreigners on board, and looked rather conspicuous among the Chinese men lighting cigarettes and strapping cardboard boxes on the back of their bikes. Even more fantastic was the crash landing. The ferries land sideways, and pound the dock hard enough to make people lose their balance. I have quite the taste for tomfoolery sometimes, so I thought it was fun.

My homeboys on the ferry.

On the way back, however, we had to take the air-conditioned passengers-only ferry. Definitely not as fun.

Traci and I were bent on finding Internet to contact our families, so we figured across the river at the Super Brand Mall would be an excellent place to look. The baristas in Starbucks directed us to "Hamburger King." The wireless did not work very well, but what didn't work at all was the "Spicy Whopper." We both tried it; we both thought it tasted pretty darn bad. Fermented, old, peppery barbecue sauce and mayonnaise. I tell you, it's not the Chinese food here that makes you sick. It's the McDonald's and Hamburger King that travelers use as a crutch. Anyway, here is the mall. Pretty snazzy:

Tell me how you really feel about that Whopper.

Besides my trip to spicy burger town, I bought a Mandarin handbook with a pronunciation CD at the mall. I've been searching for one in Beijing, but there's no English books in most stores. I'm excited to practice tonight and for the rest of our trip in Shanghai. Patrick, our gracious language and culture translator, did not come with Traci and me, so now we have to fend for ourselves. I'm pretty bad, but I'm getting a little better, and I want to be able to speak civilized sentences by the end of my time in China.

After the mall, we just headed back to the hostel with no beds left to use its Internet. The people at the front desk were nice enough to give us the wireless password, and we've been hanging around here since. But soon it's time to pop the old contacts out and talk in Mandarin at my computer back at Room 507. Wan an! (Good night.)

"That girl is eating some weird (explicative), and she's white!"

2008-07-21T10:11:00.000-07:00

I'll be honest: For the last couple days, I've been a little bummed.. mostly about what I'm going to do with myself and career when I get back to the States. After tonight, however, my outlook has improved. Nothing brings you out of a funk better than biting the head off of a fried centipede. Jason, Kelsey, Andrea, Traci and I visited Beijing's notorious DongHuaMen Night Market, recommended by natives and tourists alike for quality street food like dumplings, but even more for unusual and wild fare like silk worm, scorpion, and snake. It was a blast – one of the best times I've had in Beijing so far. Each armed with a bottle of trusty Tsingtao, we worked our way down the line of 30 or 40 stalls. Each vendor had various foods set out; at many, there were collections of skewered raw meat, seafood, and insects. After you make a selection, the vendor fries, seasons, and fire grills the kabob in front of you.

Seasoning a silkworm kabob.

Although Traci and I were the only ones excited all day to try all the insects and innards, Andrea and Jason tried a lot too. I was especially proud of Andrea, because she is the pickiest eater I know. Back home, she'll sneer at me if I eat an artichoke, so seeing her chomp on a sheep testicle was hilarious. Here's a list of what I tried, meaning chewed and swallowed:

Silkworm

Chicken heart

Sheep testicle

Sheep penis

Sea urchin

Snake

Eel

Black fungus

Bees

Small scorpion

Big scorpion

Sea horse

Oyster

Centipede (the worst one I tried)

Octopus

Whole crab (you eat the shell too)

Sea star

While I was ordering sea urchin, a Chinese woman walked by and exclaimed, "That girl is eating some weird (explicative), and she's white!" The fact I can impress at least one local with my sense of adventure is the ultimate compliment. Anyone who knows me knows I'm all about "street cred." Here's some more pictures:

Eating silkworm, which wasn't that bad. The shell was tough, but the inside was creamy.

"I love you! Marry me?" was the line used to entice passers-by to visit the vendors' stalls.

Andrea and Traci trying starfish, which was almost as nasty as the centipede.

Jason, Andrea, and Traci checking out the fried pastries.

A sea urchin, huge chunk of wasabi, and myself.

Anyway, Traci and I are going on the ultimate last big tour day of the city before our venue training starts tomorrow and 500,000 other tourists invade, so check back soon!

Picture Palooza

2008-07-20T22:48:00.000-07:00

My legs: Chinese people are much more kind and hospitable than Chinese mosquitos.

I'm going to post some pictures here because my Facebook connection isn't working fabulously. There hasn't been a lot going on since "China Nationalism Tour Day 2008," besides Traci and I eating donkey sandwiches and shark soup for dinner last night. Most of our group, along with some Australians, went to a karaoke "venue" last night, a popular activity in China. It wasn't a bar, per se, but there were private rooms with couches and big screen TVs. We all smashed into one room and sang classics like "American Pie," "Wannabe," and "My Humps." We were served huge plates of sliced watermelon and bananas, grapes, sunflower and dried melon seeds, and nuts; the air conditioning wasn't working, and there were built-in flashing neon ceiling lights. It was sweltering. At one point, a glass bottle fell off the coffee table, so I went to ask a worker for a broom. Being a phonetical sign language "expert," I tried to act out vigorously sweeping a broomstick. He seemed to understand right away, walked into the room, stopped the karaoke mid-song, and turned on loud bumping techno music. He thought I was a terrible dancer who wanted to get her groove on. Priceless. Anyway, here is a pile of selected pictures from the last couple days. We're supposed to go to the famous night market later, so there will be yarns to spin and more pictures to be shared at that time. Zai jian!

Megan, myself, Alysha, and aforementioned outrageous/amazing Chinese popsicles.

(Unlike the two of us, Megan is a respectable picture subject.)

Waiting to cross.

A man, child, and pool inter-tube on the go.

Finishing touches for the Olympics are still being worked on around Beijing.

I found where all the Sizzler buffets went: the Oriental Plaza Mall in Beijing, China.

Donkey sandwich. DELICIOUS. A delicacy for a reason.

Shark soup. Not as good as the donkey, but certainly not too shabby.

Steaming hot and spicy soup from a Korean restaurant on campus.

Traci's lunch from the Korean joint. Tasted like spicy, marinated cabbage and meat with tofu. Really, really good.

On campus, a father is pushing a bike, with the daughter taking a nap (while balancing) on the back rack, resting her face on the seat. The mother is carrying an umbrella to block the sun, a common practice among women here. They were a very sweet looking family.

"China Nationalism Tour Day"

2008-07-20T02:08:00.000-07:00

"China Nationalism Tour Day" is what I have coined the activities of July 20, 2008. We got to see two symbolic Chinese entities: the Tiananmen Square flag raising and Chairman Mao Memorial Hall.

After staying up until 2 a.m. sharing and dabbling in new music, a group of us woke up at 3:30 a.m. and scaled a gate (only one entrance to campus remains open in the wee hours, and we were in a hurry). We found a taxi nearby with the driver sleeping in the back seat, and took a U.S. $5.60 ride straight to Tiananmen Square to watch the national flag raising ceremony at dawn. The streets were dark and empty, except for groups of people heading toward the square. Thousands of people come to watch every morning, and many of us heard/read that it is an event everyone should take the time to witness while staying in Beijing.

The sun rose around 4:30. Guards marched out of the Forbidden City and crossed the street into the square; China's flag was raised as the national anthem played. I did not take this video, but here is an abridged version of the ceremony I found on YouTube:

After 22 years of living in America, it was interesting to watch a ceremony that evokes pride and nationalism of another country. The large murmuring crowd of thousands was a bit distracting and made it difficult to see or hear what was happening, but I'm honored I got to observe an event some Chinese people reportedly wait their whole lives to see.

The ceremony finished sometime around 5 a.m. On the other side of the square, the memorial hall, which is a mausoleum that holds Mao Zedong's body, opens at 8, so we walked the streets of Beijing for a couple hours in search of breakfast to kill time. Visitors to Mao's have to check everything but their cash and I.D.s at a building across the street before walking through security similar to an airport. Thousands of people file through the hall when it's open, some buying flowers for Mao and placing them in piles before a large white statue similar to the Lincoln Memorial (not nearly that big, though). Keeping pace with the theme of my trip so far, I "did like the Romans" and purchased a $3 RMB flower to pay respect. Jane, our professor, said I looked like I was in church when I placed it in front of the statue. It was very much like a wake viewing. After the opening statue room, you're directed past a huge glass case with a crystal coffin inside of it containing the embalmed body. The guards keep you moving at a rapid pace. Mao died in the 70s, so the body was a little peculiar looking, but you aren't allowed to stop and take an adequate gander. It was an interesting experience.

The Great Big Catch-Up Blog: Two Weeks of China in One Sitting

2008-07-16T20:29:00.000-07:00

Dear concerned American citizens,

I am not dead! But it's been way too long since I've blogged, due to a habit of falling asleep immediately (usually mid-conversation with my roommate, Traci) when we get back to our dorm after a Chinese adventure. I'm also moderately ill right now, the old "hot-cold-hot-cold-feverish-hallucinogenic-dreams-extremely-sore-body" ailment people get every now and then. It's not serious or unfamiliar, and I expect a full recovery soon.

Our group finished the three-day tour of Beijing earlier this week. It's everything a rookie tourist in China could dream of visiting: the Great Wall and the Ruins of Yuanmingyuan (my two personal favorites), the Summer Palace, the Peking Opera, and a Peking duck dinner, among other things.

Above: the gorgeous Ruins of Yuanmingyuan.

Below: Me cheesing on the Great Wall.

I will tell you about these famous sites, but today I want to explain my everyday observations of Beijing and how I fit into this extraordinary place. I think the easiest way to describe the last two weeks is to do a step-by-step description of a day here, in second person voice, of course. (Note I am not Cormac McCarthy. Thank you.):

It is 5:49 a.m., and you wake up. It's already bright outside, and since your roommate tried to close the blinds the first night and the sound was comparable to glass scrapping across rust, the sunshine is busting through your uncovered window. Your Chinese neighbors across the hall are awake and knocking on each other's doors, calling out in Mandarin. "Oh, (explicative), I'm in China," was the first waking thought for a few days, but now it's just, "I need a massage. This bed is killing me." Although it's a free day and there's no work to do, you can't fall back asleep, so you read or check Facebook or play around on the exercise equipment outside by the track. You may or may not shower. Around 8 a.m., you hear English in the hallway, and you join your classmates for breakfast at the cafeteria. Everyone takes the elevator down eight floors to the plain, marbled lobby (high ceiling, welcome desk, pop machine with Coke products and tea, restaurant entrance, one love seat, two arm chairs, 15 pots of poinsettias). It is hot/humid/steamy outside, and you are almost sweating by the time you walk a block to the dining hall. Up the stairs, past the hanging freezer flaps door, the inside is a typical cafeteria, with the exception of the assorted beverage and cigarette stand. The breakfast food is hit or miss. There are marinated hard-boiled eggs, bowls of unsweetened grits, and piles and piles of pastries, some filled with sweet bean paste, others filled with garlic and meat. There is also what looks like apple stir fry and large red cubes. Do not eat these large red cubes. They are congealed pig's blood and taste like bad news bears. The locals eat their pastries with chopsticks, which may explain the lack of napkins in the dining hall. When finished, you bring your metal tray to a worker in the corner who scraps the mess off with a hand-held broom. If you try to clear the tray yourself, the worker will shoo you away, communicating, "That's my job, crazy girl!"

Above: Outdoor exercise equipment.

Below: Motorcycle-box-mobile on campus.

Since you've seen most of the stunning historical attractions in Beijing that are better described by pictures than poor prose, you and the others decide to meander around the city. There is a subway stop outside one of the university's gated entrances. Over the speed bump and past the uniformed guards, there is a bridge that leads to the subway stop; under it, a chilled beverage and popsicle stand. (China has made you love two things: popsicles and room temperature Tsigntao beer.) The blessed popsicle stand has standard toasty-Chinese-weather treats, including Pocari Sweat (like Gatorade; tastes like flat Squirt), watermelon soda, cartons of milk tea, yellow rose and pea popsicles, jiggly apple gelatin popsicles, Mandarin magazines with famous English titles (like "Self"), and standard bottled water and ice cream novelties.

You check your bag with security and run it through an x-ray machine. The fare is 2 RMB, about 30 cents in America. The subway station is cleaner than all of the L stops in Chicago, but the humidity makes the sweat drip down the back of your legs while you wait for the train. When it arrives at the Communication University of China stop, there are not too many passengers. At other stations, however, people run and jockey for seats. An empty train car will fill to full capacity in about 30 seconds. The ride is smoother than subways in America; there are flat-screen televisions playing China Central Television and animated in-tunnel Olympic advertising flashes by. If the conductor suddenly slams on the breaks and someone almost falls, however, complete strangers will try to catch that person without hesitation. If you're blonde, speaking English, or just visibly not Chinese, oftentimes you will be stared at; don't be offended, staring isn't rude in China.

As you explore China's capital, you see big city streets with high rises and brouhaha traffic. The driving style: very slow and very aggressive. Cars will forge their own lanes, make U-turns into on-coming lanes, buses will edge vehicles out of their way. Horns seem to beep "Here I come!" instead of "Screw you!" In this mix, millions of bicycles, mopeds, and motorized bikes pulling carts. Women sit side-saddle on the back rack as their significant others pedal through the city. Older men deliver cases of eggs and beer to restaurants from the back of their bike carts. When you stay in touristy areas, remember to keep a good sense of humor when you get stared at, and be gracious when asked for a picture. Besides the big city, there are deliciously tiny side streets like Nan Luo Gu Xiang where trendy young locals and seasoned backpackers hang out to grab a cocktail, sandwich, cool T-shirt, or a cheap massage.

Another way to spend time (and money) in Beijing is to haggle at the tourist traps like the Silk Market or the Pearl Market. Every floor is like a maze of eager vendors with less than 10 square feet of stall space. Many have similar if not identical goods to offer. Most people are extremely energetic to makes sales (especially if you go earlier in the day) but can range from apathetic to overly aggressive. They call out to you, "Pretty lady! You need [insert product here]." If you approach a vendor, prepare to get down to business. You need to do research on how much a product is worth (especially for places like the Pearl Market) in the United States, but you also need three qualities to be an excellent haggler: confidence, politeness, and patience. The vendor will first make you a grossly high offer on a calculator. Look at it, and just say, "Oh, I cannot spend that much." After a few minutes of this, they'll get frustrated and give you the calculator: "You tell me your best price!" Don't be afraid to aim low! If they give in right away on a price, you know it's not a very good deal. It may take you a good 10 minutes to make a deal, and never be afraid to walk away (not in a huff, but just to "look around" to see if another vendor can give you the price you're seeking). You will most likely get chased after and given a better price. The vendors can be persuasive, but stay focused and never pay more for something than you would in the United States. Besides going early in the morning, two other tips for successful bargaining: 1) go to stands in bad locations off the main strip that don't get as much traffic and 2) have the exact amount of money you want to spend ready in your hand. If you don't want to spend more than 100 RMB, just have the 100 bill in your hand the whole time. They are more likely to give in than if you have a wad of messy cash, or they may just scold you when you get your wallet to pay.

After a day of haggling, walking around Tianamen Square, and sweating, you're going to be very hungry. China is a great adventure, and nothing is more risky or rewarding than dining in Beijing. Oftentimes the menus are all Mandarin, sometimes without pictures. If you don't have a translator like Patrick, your best bet is to point at something and hope for the best, which many times turns out well. Or you may get a traditional dinner with a large group of friends; you sit at a large round table with food served family style on a large Lazy Susan. It is good manners to serve food to others. The cuisine varies: sizzling red beef and onions, fried white rice, pork and scallion dumplings, baby squid, balls of squishy tofu, spicy green beens and meat, whole fried fish, donkey served on rolls, tripe and vegetables, cold potato noodles and cucumber slivers that burn mouths, hunks of bony chicken, corn soup, and of course, watermelon and huge bottles of Tsingtao. In China, you can tell what you're eating came from an animal; it isn't cut into unrecognizable, clean square chunks. It is said that Americans can't handle real Chinese food, but it is best to have a sense of adventure and try a little of everything. If you don't like it, just don't put it in your mouth again.

Even if you take the safe route and go to McDonald's, there is still adventure to be had, especially with ordering. Most people do not speak English in Beijing, yes, even with "the Olympics coming," as people say back home. No problems, though, this is where "phonetical sign language" comes in handy, as well as handheld menus. The old point-and-cover for only a sandwich, or the finger signal for the number value meal you want. The service is very hustle bustle, and they may or may not mess up your order a couple times, but they're very nice and will probably stick your beverage in a to-go bag. Wasabi Filet-O-Fish, taro pie, coconut pie, pineapple pie, hamburgers with spicy sauce and cucumbers, chicken sandwiches with cabbage relish, kiwi juice ice cream floats, and sides of corn await your wanderlust.

When you get back to your dorm, you shower 1.5 times, pass out, and do it all again the next day.

2008-07-10T15:17:00.000-07:00

The beds here are very firm. So firm that if you belly flop on one, it will knock the wind out of you. We're pretty sore, so yesterday a group of us got 50-minute full body massages (cost: about US $10). We (including four manly men) had to change into provided pastel pajamas; the massage was painful/wonderful, except the "blind" masseuse going to town on me was slapping and punching my behind so hard I sounded like a fleshy bongo drum. No one else got punched. It was great. At least I got watermelon after.

I also broke out in hives. I tried a Chinese face mask from the supermarket. Large welts ensued. It was taken care of.

There have been a couple of other interesting developments in the past 24 hours. It turns out I am going to be doing flash quotes for volleyball and cycling events. The cycling flash quote reporters had to put names in a hat, and one of us, Patrick, had to switch over the volleyball completely. The other four of us selected have to shuttle to cycling events after volleyball. I'm excited. More behind-the-scenes-action. I'm just worried that I'll end up missing BMX or something like that. But we'll see.

We're going on a three-day tour. It starts at 8:25 a.m. today, and we'll get to see the Beijing sewage treatment plant, eat Peking duck, walk along the Great Wall, visit the Summer and Winter palaces, and go to the opera. As a group, we've already wandered around Tianamen Square a few times and visited the Silk Market, but it will be nice to have tour guides explaining these iconic places to us. We've also been invited to participate in a Chinese talk show on Monday. I'm not sure if we're going to be in the audience or what else will arise.

Remind me soon to tell you the story of how I ate a large square of congealed pig's blood.

Lauren & the Olympics

BMX

Hoy rules the world and the competition moves to the BMX course

Just another day at the office

The British invasion

COMPETITION BEGINS!

Opening Ceremonies Madness

You too can be a cycling expert

This is what happens when I blog at 4 a.m.

Beijing Huanying Ni (Beijing welcomes you)

Athletes, athletes everywhere

Lonely seaweed and what I've learned (so far)

Working it at Laoshan

Blog from Pudong

XinTiandi

Shanghai Day Two

Bay-Jing to Shong-Hi to the Hamburger King.

"That girl is eating some weird (explicative), and she's white!"

Picture Palooza

"China Nationalism Tour Day"

The Great Big Catch-Up Blog: Two Weeks of China in One Sitting

More to be posted soon!