I grad I speak Engrish!

We always worry about Logistics in the Olympics, the getting materials into the venues and getting enough of them. We worry about getting enough water to drink and for the cables to be in the right place. We want enough information to be given to us so we can make arrangements for these camera systems that operate over, or next the field of play (FOP). We depend on drivers and translators and caterers and venue managers. Here’s the thing: Vancouver (Winter 2010) and London 2012 will have to clear the very high bar set by the Chinese. With the notable exception of the local criminal Truss Rigger, these guys haven’t missed a beat. The people are smart and positive and organized. The Olympic movement provides a proven structure that the Beijing Organizing Committee for the Olympic Games (BOCOG) has adopted perfectly. Me? I work for BOB.

We helped put the finishing touches on an exciting 120 remote controlled camera that dollies downhill at 6M/second with the Mountain Bikers. The athletes rode thru’ a course of trees planted six years ago, and have now grown 16 feet. We had one 2 hour rehearsal during which 24 machete-wielding locals came tromping down the track ahead of the fore-runners. Leading them from the rear was the daughter of the main Olympic BroadcastingSpanish geezer, shouting at us, “CHILL!”

Communication is THE daily problem here. There is NO common reference between Mandarin and a language any of us are accustomed to. No sounds, no roots, no letters to combine. But, sign language is a powerful thing. Those of us who can make rudimentary drawings can order chicken or get to the camera store. I have a 40 word Chinese vocabulary, and our driver has 20 words of Engrish, so we get by. Billy and I found ourselves in a Muslim restaurant in desperate need of beer and food, which language, pointing and whining failed to produce. I walked across the linoleum to the cooler and got two huge Tsingtaos and drew a picture of a chicken in my notebook. The outlander gave a big smile and circled the wing. We had fantastic spicy skewered wings.

They have a million volunteers, who are lovely young people (mostly ladies) who speak school Engrish. (A person who speaks conversational Engrish is bound for an Executive position here, but it is very rare with us in the field.) One questionable strategy here is to surround the louguai with many locals who may each understand a phrase here or there, in the hope that they may pool their understanding for the guest’s benefit, like schooling fish. Given time, it works, but it’s not for the impatient. Often I wish I hadn’t sought a finer understanding and asked that last question…

Contrary to pre-game claims, cabbies only speak Chinese, but they are pretty good and very cheap. Dunwoody to Forest park would cost about $8. It’s easy to find a cab from our hotel (in Tucker) to the restaurant district, but the drivers don’t want to bring us back out because they’d have to deadhead back south. So now we just climb in the cars and refuse to get out ‘til we get back to the Bin Guan. The cop at the door of the BinGuan requires the driver to tell him where he picked us up. Some hotels have cops on the hallways, and they note departures and arrivals at rooms! We hear maps were illegal here a few years ago and the drivers regard them w/ the countenance of a cow looking at a new gate (C. Watford quote)

We make sport of trying to move thru’ the Hotel garden bar w/out becoming attached to a lovely young Chinese person. “Can I herp you, Sir?” “Not unless you’ll assist me behind that dark bush to urinate.”

While shopping at the Carafour, I was followed thru’ several floors by two uniformed teen-agers. I gave them the stink-eye and circled a display of Happy Sesame Biscuits three times by which time they slunk away. I was the only round-eye in the 4 story grocery, and they caught up w/ me on the beer aisle. BTW, I have pictures of Pabst Blue Ribbon WATER!