Beijing Gets Ready To Shine

Sydney Morning Herald

Monday August 11, 2008

Sam North

If Sydney's experience is anything to go by, it is a good time to be in China, writes Sam North.

You probably didn't think of it, but on August 8 you should have spared a thought for the 17.5 million people who live in Beijing and also for the 1.3 billion who live in the rest of China.

As the countdown neared 8pm on the eighth day of the eighth month of 2008 (and, yes, you guessed it: eight is considered a lucky number in China) that vast array of humanity, one-fifth of the world's population, was excited, expectant . . . but more than a little tense.

Holding the Olympic Games does that to a country - even more so to the city where the Games take place.

The same thing happened in Athens four years ago, and in Sydney in 2000 - a tangible air of nervous excitement as you wait for something great to happen while hoping that nothing goes awry.

The excitement and the nerves come from the same place: the Olympics is the biggest, most extraordinary sporting event that the world has to offer. Every four years the best athletes gather in one city to compete in a unique show of solidarity that crosses the boundaries of wars and religions, of rich and poor nations. The media - 20,000 of whom are in Beijing, including 49 from Fairfax Media, covering the deeds of about 10,700 athletes - flocks to report on the events and a massive television audience gathers from every country on the planet to watch an amazing cavalcade of triumph and tragedy.

First there was Friday night's opening ceremony, the chance for Beijing to show off to the world. And that's where the nerves came in. What if something went wrong? What if the world didn't like it? What if they didn't understand what we were trying to say?

Your city, your country, is on show as never before and that's the fear that would have been at the back of millions of minds in China on that Friday.

And how do we know this? Well, it's all part of the Olympic path which is trodden by every Games city, a path which starts seven years before the Games with the euphoria of winning the bid.

The route then leads into various laneways as it descends into arguments about money, architecture, construction and, in the particular case of Beijing, dislocated residents, pollution, Tibet and Tiananmen Square before the realisation comes about three months from the opening ceremony that the Games are coming - ready or not. Then the local support floods back as everyone decides to present a united front to the world.

In Sydney, the city was clean and sparkling. Everything that needed painting was painted; streets were bedecked with flags; volunteers in colourful uniforms stood at vantage points; people with official-looking tags hanging from their necks became commonplace; and we read with interest about the scores of various cultures that were landing on our shores.

And it soon became apparent the world loved us.

The predicted chaos didn't arrive, but all the public transport did - and on time; the security, of which we had little experience, was unobtrusive and covert; the volunteers were incredibly friendly, helpful and in overwhelming supply; the bus drivers knew the way to wherever they were heading; the opening ceremony was judged a triumph; the world's media lapped up our hospitality and organisational efficiency; and at the end of it all the universal acclaim was Sydney had presented the best Games ever.

Amid all this Sydneysiders got down to some serious fun, the sort of light-hearted, carefree fun that comes along once in a lifetime. The city was filled every night with people enjoying the entertainment, the clubs and pubs, the restaurants and the various "live" sites where big screens televised the Games.

The mood was one of pure delight, with police reporting very little trouble as revellers from throughout the world enjoyed Sydney at its spring best. The locals, partying with the best of them, took pride in their city, their country and their Games.

Out at the various Games sites enthusiastic crowds barracked for their local heroes and for unknown underdogs from countries few had heard of. They cheered the winners - whatever their nationality - and empathised with the losers but kept something special in reserve for Australians such as Cathy Freeman and Grant Hackett.

The "Aussie, Aussie Aussie, Oi, Oi, Oi" war cry made its appearance but by the hundredth, or thousandth, rendition had somewhat lost its aura. But if that was the only downside then it must have been a hell of a time . . . and it was.

Now, eight years on, anyone lucky enough to have been present recalls it as one of the best times of their lives. Remember, they'll say wistfully, when the Olympics were on and everyone was happy, the transport worked and we just enjoyed ourselves?

As Beijing is finding out, that's the Olympic experience.

© 2008 Sydney Morning Herald

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