Olympic Memories, Part I
I apologize for the lateness of writing this stuff up. The last two weeks have ben a non-stop orgy of work, play, and the Games. I’ve just been exhausted, and writing posts as long as the next few turn out to be is a daunting task. Nevertheless, let’s begin with Athletics on Monday. If you look at a seating chart of the Bird’s Nest we would have been sitting on the 50 yard line in the 3rd row. We had PHENOMENAL seats. The men were doing the long jump right in front of us.
The evening began with the trip on the subway. For security reasons they want everyone to use the subway, which seems reasonable enough to me. I was at my friend’s house, and the nearest stop to him was in Dongzhimen, so we went there. This meant we had to take three different trains: line 5 to line 10, like 10 to line 8 (the Olympic line), and then line 8 to the stadium. Seems simple enough, right? And if you have questions, there are official Olympic helpers in every subway station to direct you to where you’re supposed to go.
Line 5 to 10 went fine, as did line 10 to 8. Surprisingly (or, not surprisingly, because this is China) there were no signs whatsoever saying OLYMPICS THIS WAY. You would think they would be everywhere, considering the number of different nationalities who were teeming around the city, but nope, not a word. The exit you get off to transfer to the 8 line is Beitucheng. Now, review the map below.
On the right you see Beitucheng station, with the train going to the left. The first stop is called Olympic Sports Centre. The second is called Olympic Green. In between are pictures of the Bird’s Nest and the Water Cube. We didn’t know which exit we were supposed to take, so we went and asked one of the Olympic hosts. This broad didn’t speak ONE WORD of English. We were saying “Bird’s Nest?” and she looked at us like we were speaking Martian. We were even able to ask her questions in broken, half-assed Chinese, and finally she pointed on the map to Olympic Sports Center exit. Okay, great, one exit up the line. The train came, we went one exit, and were informed that we were at… Olympic Green.
“What the fuck! How the hell did we end up here? We didn’t go two stops did we?”
We got off the train and asked another Olympic helper. This one spoke a little English, and at least understood what we meant when we said Bird’s Nest. He said to go back the way we came one stop, then take exit number so-and-so. Great, we though, finally someone who knows what the hell he’s talking about. The train came, we went back one exit, and ended up at… Beitucheng.
You can imagine the stream of expletives. So we followed the guy’s advice and took the designated exit and then realized where we were. You see, since the subway is the only way into the Olympic area, you actually clear Olympic security at Beitucheng before you can get on line 8. We had already been through this security once, and here we were 15 minutes later, back in line to clear it again. It’s standard airport-type security, metal detectors and x-rays and wands, the usual drill.
We went to the local Olympic helper and asked her what exit we took to get to the Bird’s Nest. The conversation went something like this.
“Yes, can you tell us which exit to take to get to the Bird’s Nest?”
“Ah, please go here and take subway.”
“Yes, we know that, we’ve already done it once. Which exit, Olympic Green or Olympic Sports Center?”
“Ahhhhh… please to take subway. Line 8.”
“Yes, we know that. Which exit do we take?” We used our arms to mimic the subway line and counted. I pointed to my arm and said zhege ditie, meaning “This subway,” then we counted off stops—yi, ar, san, si. Which one?”
“Ahhhhh… please to take subway. Line 8.”
Another string of expletives and grumbling about the Chinese. I mean, really. We live here and we were having a hard time finding the place. The alleged “helpers” did nothing but give us contradictory information all day. We headed back to security and line 8.
In the run-up to the games I read an article about what they were teaching their security staff to say to foreigners. One of these phrases was “Don’t be nervous!” (It goes without saying that if China wasn’t a police state which locked people up without trial very few foreigners would be nervous about their security, considering everyone had to go through similar security just to get to Beijing.) At any rate, as we were about to go through one of the security guys looked at me and said “Don’t be nervous.” I replied, “I’m not nervous, I’ve done this a million times.” I wish I spoke enough Chinese to have been able to have said it to him using the putonghua, but alas.
Thus we found ourselves going through exactly the same security. And, lo and behold, we ended up with exactly the same security guy. He immediately recognized us and we told him “Your Olympic helpers told us the wrong way to go.” He smiled. “Don’t be nervous.” I wanted to say “Fuck off, you Chinese twat” but I’m sure that wouldn’t have gone down too well.
Anyway we went downstairs at Beitucheng, again, and were confronted with the same map, again. We got on the same train, and went one stop, and arrived at… Olympic Green. It appears that the stop for Olympic Sports Center doesn’t exist. It wasn’t like we passed an unused station on the way to Olympic Green, there simply isn’t one, despite the clear indication on the maps that there are two distinct stops.
It is worth noting that we were not the only ones confused by this. The confusion presented on the subway trip to the Bird’s Nest has been overheard in many a bar here during the games, and there were actually people on the train with us who got off at the same stop we did, then ended up making exactly the same round trip. (We recognized them because they were Brazilians and, like most Brazilian sports fans, they were decked out in green, yellow, and blue, including wigs and huge hats and painted faces and flags worn as capes.)
We got off at Olympic Green and it was indeed the right place to get off. Thanks to China’s crack system of signage and helpers who could speak English, the lingua franca of the civilized world, the trip was as pleasant and hassle-free as most things are in China.
This is the way EVERYTHING here works. And people wonder why the foreigners drink a lot.
Update: I have discussed numerous times the way Chinese girls dress, and the weird clothes they have with Chinglish on them. This is one great example I saw during the subway trip.
I’m sure to the Chinese “wear juicy” sounds like it makes sense in English.
