Earthquake and Olympics

Sometime during the aftermath of the earthquake May 2008

So I'm walking through the thousands of tents that have sprung up on campus in the aftermath of the earthquake. There's some high quality gear that looks like you could go camp in the Arctic, and some that's somewhat more erm...spontaneous, which looks like a leaf falling on it would knock it down (ok, maybe that's a slight exaggeration). Despite the chaos of the earthquake and the panic and pitching of tents that really don't tessellate and look most random, there remain pathways for people to walk through. As far as I can see, this has not been as a result of any higher command. Walking through, my ears are instantly met with sounds of people rushing about, chattering as people play games to pass the time outdoors, anxious conversations, screaming children and babies...any noise that is loud and produced by man, you only had to keep walking, and you'd probably have heard it. Anyway, in the midst of this rather chaotic tent city, I spot a red, blue and white tarpaulin shelter, which spoke to me of some great Chinese values. Inside, a young boy, maybe aged 6-7 is sitting at a portable plastic table (actually, it's probably a tray with a stand for having TV dinners with). He looks really focused and is doing some sort of homework. To the side of him, his (presumably) sister is practising the violin and their (presumably) mother is acting as the music stand.

Wednesday 13th August 2008

After a couple of weeks away, I have returned from the land of air-conditioned convenience. Now, I am back. Back where the air-conditioning is weak, back where there isn't an escalator or lift in every building, back where the toilet paper can't be flushed, back where there are no 5,000 dollar fines for smoking, littering, crossing at a red light, or pressing the stop button on the escalator without reason (hey, where are the stop buttons here?!), back in the land where there often seems to be so much chaos and disorder, and yet when required, can demonstrate meticulous order with military precision. This is the place to which I've returned, almost for a week now...

So, yesterday, I was sitting in the living room with my laptop on, doing some admin, and suddenly, I heard some music coming from a neighbouring flat which caused me to turn on the television. At first, a solitary trumpet beginning a stately melody with an ascending arppeggio, and then growing to a crescendo as the rest of the orchestra joined in the patriotic anthem: China had won another gold.

I flicked through the channels until my television was singing in unison with my neighbour's. Strange conflicting feelings stirred within me. On the one hand, it was somewhat moving to imagine the rigorous training these gymnasts had been through. One look, and be it first place or third, their physique told you their life was one of great physical discipline.

But I wondered whether beneath the smiles, the guys in second and third place felt devastatingly disappointed? I mean, do you train for the Games aspiring for bronze, or silver? And after that final refrain, as the winning team waved to the crowd in celebration of their victory and the cameras zoomed in to catch their overwhelmed expressions, the red strings around each of their raised hands pulled my emotions in another direction.

So their prize may be of a costlier metal, but like the silver and the bronze, so too will the gold one day fade and perish. Oh, that they would all know of the prize that lasts... let us not run aimlessly, but train ourselves with discipline, so that after we have pointed others to the prize that lasts, we will not be disqualified for it.

Thursday 16th August 2008

I don't know exactly what it is, but there is something about cheesey songs (and cheese in general (with the exception of the edible type)) that I just cannot stand. However, there is something quite amusing when in the flat opposite, seemingly unawares (or just not caring) that it's hot and everyone's windows are open, a grown man is singing loudly (and slightly out of tune), "Beijing huangying ni, wei ni kai tian bi di..."