Wow! In one word this is all I can say. China really did an amazing job of hosting the Olympics.  The skies were blue, the city was clean, the people and staff friendly, the years of preparation paid off. Having lived in Atlanta before, after, and during the 1996 Olympics I can say that Beijing far surpassed any expectations I had. 

Flat panel TV’s everywhere were playing the games; on street corners, in subway cars, buses, elevators, restaurants. Every corner of Beijing was focused on one thing. I didn’t manage more than a few hours sleep a night for 10 days and yet I felt great. The atmosphere in the city was electric and the celebration never stopped.  Spectators were darting about the city all day to events and then everyone funneled into the Sanlitun area at night. People from all around the world speaking languages I didn’t recognize, athletes, coaches, and trainers mixing in at the clubs. The talk of world records, gold medals, pride for every country, all punctuated by the highlight clips playing endlessly on tvs.

Security was everywhere, but always friendly, and never much of a hassle.  The city was easy to navigate, traffic flowing freely, events highly accessible and friendly volunteers everywhere.  This was not the Beijing anyone expected, foreigners were amazed, the Chinese proud, everyone knowing that the city in this fantasy state was fleeting.

Truly amazing to see what a singular focus of the Chinese economy can produce in 4 years.  Comforting to know that the Chinese people, with such a reclusive history and mistrust of foreigners, could play such good hosts.

A sad sinking feeling settled in during the closing ceremonies, knowing that it was all coming to an end. Unfortunately my friend Alex had returned to Korea and was no longer around. My new friend Aubri and I had negotiated our way to a street corner near the birds nest in view of a giant TV to watch the ceremonies.  We brought a Chinese picnic and a bottle of wine (though not a corkscrew) and celebrated the end of the games. As you might expect the Chinese spared nothing when it came to the fireworks finale.  Huge displays started outside the birds nest, then from the far side of the Olympic village, then from the south in Tiananmen square, then from the west side of the city. The sounds rolled around the city like distant thunder and light show continued for well over an hour. It was unlike anything I had seen before, as a photographer my only regret not having an aerial vantage point for some pictures.

China had concluded its global coming out party in style.

Post script – I realize that there are many controversies surrounding China, the Olympics, Human rights, etc.  Was Beijing during the Olympics a mask, or a vision of future China? These struggles, sacrifices, compromises, accomplishments and mistakes are all very worthy of critical debate. I have not had access or been following the western media’s take on all this during the games. I also do not wish to enter into this debate on this blog. I will simply congratulate China on their accomplishment and say as a foreigner experiencing the end result of the Olympics in Beijing it has been unforgettable. 

PPS – as you might expect most of the snapshots I have from this time are blurry, hazy and generally poor quality, but hopefully they convey the atmosphere.  

Olympic Photo Gallery

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Honestly I’ve been at a loss to describe the Gobi. I’ve really been avoiding trying to put any words to it at all. I can think of many individual adjectives that are wholly or partially appropriate. Words like hot, arid, beautiful, stark, colorful, peaceful, remote, dusty, harsh, vast, surprising, ancient, are all words that come to mind. The trouble is when I try and string any 2 or more words together the results only form clichés that you might be able to use for any desert region.

I enjoy deserts and have had the good fortune to spend time in many throughout North and South America. The Gobi is very different, the arid terrain, scorching temperatures (my thermometer reached its limit a 120F/50C in the sun one day) and the nomadic people living their daily lives in the midst of it creates something very unique in modern times. Statements like frozen in time, or mind numbingly hot, vast and open, or even welcoming and charming, all fail to capture the full essence of the Gobi. The harshness of the landscape and climate contrasts with the friendliness and kindness of the people living there. These words are all pieces of a puzzle that I have not been able to put together properly. Maybe time and some distance will help me get my words around it one day.

For now I’ll leave it to someone else, someone with a talent for words, and I’ll stick to pictures.

Gobi Photo Essays

The Mongolian roadways are amazing and truly worth a minute to explain.

Any paved road quickly disappears within a 20-30km range outside the capital. There are patches of paved road around some of the provincial capitals, but I would be very surprised to learn if more than 200km of continuous paved road existed in the whole country outside of UB.

Mostly what you get is a patchwork of rutty dirt paths in the hard baked mud and sand. To the north toward the Siberian Taiga, where rain is more common, this can quickly become impassible mud. To the south in the Gobi things actually can smooth out a bit as the land flattens and lack of rain leaves the dirt packed as hard as concrete. Where the terrain becomes impassible by vehicle the journey continues by horse, ox, camel, or foot.

One must quickly abandon the idea of there being roads, or a highway system at all in Mongolia. When preparing yourself for a multi-day drive out into the steppe it’s best to think of the countryside as having the most amazing system of off-road dirt tracks in the world. In this sense, you will see some amazing people and places in the remote areas of Mongolia and get hours of quality off road time in as well. Some thrill seekers pay big money for eight hours a day of bone rattling, teeth chipping, ass numbing, off road adventures. In Mongolia all this adventure is included free of charge with any trip to the countryside.

In addition to the physical characteristics of Mongolia’s roadways, the nomadic system of navigation is quite impressive as well. For example, on a ten-day trip across 4,000 kilometers our driver never once had a map, a compass, or any sort of navigational device. Instead it was a system of intuition, experience, and some occasional head scratching. When required, a course correction came with little warning. The driver would tense slightly as he then jerked the wheel to one side or the other, never slowing down, never saying a word. A fun little game in a jeep with no hand straps. The driver was able to make these “corrections” despite no visible landmarks from horizon to horizon on the flat empty stretches of the Gobi.

Occasionally we would adjust our course to head straight for some ger several kilometers off in the distance. After pulling up to the ger, the driver would disappear inside, usually emerging minutes later wiping a white mustache of airag (a drink made of fermented mare’s milk) from his face. Then we would often turn around and head back the way we came. After the 2^nd or 3^rd time this happened I remember Anne asking our guide what the driver was doing each time. Our “guide” (essentially a cook who spoke some English) explained in his limited English “That is just his style, he likes to stop and ask directions.”

[Insert getting directions picture series]

Getting there is half the fun.

Nomadic Roads

Step away from the safety requirements of the west and there is no telling what you may find people doing to make a living. Here is a collection of the dangerous, confusing, and sometimes downright stupid things one can find happening in the developing countries around the world.