Reflections from Kansas Citians in China

I thought it would be more surprising to get back to America. But getting back to familiarity is just that... familiar.

I can eat all of my favorite foods again. I can drive my car down the streets I've always driven. I can request a little dab of mayonnaise for my sandwich and pickles on the side if I so choose.

Going to China for the Olympics was an experience I wouldn't trade. Though I was essentially deaf, mute and illiterate while dealing with the culture, there's something to say about living as a minority and dealing with a language barrier on a daily basis.

My favorite days were definitely the day I went to the Great Wall and the day I saw Nastia Liukin get the gold for America at the women's gymnastics all-around individual final. I was awed on both occasions. Climbing the Great Wall and seeing it stretch out for miles made me feel like a part of something bigger. Hearing the "Star Spangled Banner" at the gymnastics' medal ceremony made me feel prouder than I've ever been to be an American.

(Bill, who lives in Prairie Village, has been in Beijing as a worker on the USOC media services staff. He has never blogged before, but agreed to give it a try. This is his final report from Beijing.)

Sunday, August 24

Nie how. One World, One Dream.

It was another mellow Sunday morning. Old couples walked along the boulevard holding hands. Folks rode bicycles in the main part of the road. I could have run in the traffic lane, but decided it would not be wise to get run over on the last day.

I copped a dozen smile-backs. It was as if they realize I’m going home tomorrow and they better cherish every ounce of Olympics magic. (I’ll miss the big press officer dinner tomorrow night. So they won’t get to hear me sing some silly son to the tune of “Doe a Deer” or “Pick a Little, Talk a Little.”

Breakfast: AFW (Average Fresh Watermelon) Cereal with sticks and marbles, ham, yogurt, two hard-boiled eggs, water, orange juice, banana.

My favorite sporting event in the whole entire world is the Olympic marathon. Right next to the Rider Cup. Right next to Texas-OU. Right next to the BCS bowl games. Right next to….well, you get the idea.

Saturday, August 23

(Bill Hancock, a Prairie Village resident, is working as a media attaché for the United States Olympic Committee in Beijing. It's his eighth Olympics. He has never blogged before and is pretty nervous. He says he only has a few minutes to prepare these random notes and no time to edit. He asked that we cut him some slack. We’re trying.)

Nie how. One World, One Dream.

The morning run around the neighborhood is terrific; I love it. Yes, for the exercise, but moreso for connecting with regular people. Bill and IrvI like to play the smile game—smile, say hello and see if they respond. They probably think I’m the hutong idiot, but so what?

I usually wake up to the sound of traffic on the busy boulevard, but not today—it’s Saturday. Glorious Saturday.

(Bill Hancock, a Prairie Village resident, is working as a media attaché for the United States Olympic Committee in Beijing. It's his eighth Olympics. He has never blogged before and is pretty nervous. He says he only has a few minutes to prepare these random notes and no time to edit. He asked that we cut him some slack.)

Friday, August 22

Nie how. (Howdy.) One World, One Dream.

The morning run through the cool sunshine around the neighborhood was terrific. The best times follow storms. I played the smile game and was rewarded. Today the street sweeper returned a big, wide, toothless grin that made my heart soar and made me realize how much I’m going to miss these people.

I couldn’t drag smiles from the elderly gentleman and his wife, but they sure made me happy. He walked with a cane and with her support. Surely they were both 90. Their pace was about one step per minute. I pictured them strolling the same path, under these same trees, in 1940. They made my day.

Today was a day free of the Olympics, although we did miss the excitement from the night before it was good to get a break for a day trip. We traveled to the city of Xian, which is pronounced "see on". This city is located in main land China and was completely different from Hong Kong. Hong Kong is very commercial and all of the people speak English. Our guide who spoke English very well told us about the different Chinese dialects and how the written language had been simplified and unified. Then we arrived at the museum. We were not allowed to drive as close as usual because of the Olympics, but we were able to take a golf cart type transport up to the main entrance. We finally got into the first pit as they called it. At first it was hard to believe all of it. Every statue was life size and everyone unique. No two had the same face. There were also horses and places where wooden chariots would have been. In the first pit alone there are believed to be 6,000 warriors buried although they have not all been excavated.

KANSAS CITY WOMAN WAS THERE 26 YEARS AGO AS PART OF AN EXCHANGE PROGRAM

by Nancy Kramer, Kansas City

My first impression of China in 1982 as we entered a darkened airport late at night was one of apprehension. The room was people with unsmiling and formidable looking uniformed soldiers carrying guns. Even the smiles and greeting s of our tour guide and Chinese government representative did little to dispel my feelings of misgivings. Was I really wise in joining this group of teachers as one of the earliest group of foreigners to enter China since the diplomatic breakthrough of 1979?

Somehow we passed through the immigration and security check line with all our baggage and boxes of school supplies and books we carried. These were for teachers we would be meeting at different schools in Shanghai and Jinjiang.

A sixth grade teacher, I had asked my principal for textbooks no longer used. One set of sixth grade science books proudly predicted that “someday man will walk on the moon.” I had brought the pencil stubs and crayons left when school ended that month. I also bought new ones, rulers, scissors, protractors and compasses. One guard took a part of the blulnt ended scissors and tried to stab his hand. Being unsuccessful, he frowningly handed them back to me, disgusted, and wave me through.

Tuesday, August 19

(Bill Hancock, a Prairie Village resident, is working as a media attaché for the United States Olympic Committee in Beijing. It's his eighth Olympics. This is his daily blog, with his apologies for sloppy writing. He says he only has a few minutes to prepare these random notes and no time to edit. He suggested we cut him some slack. After all, we did not criticize Lewis's and Clark's notes. We're not sure the comparison is valid, but here goes.)

Nie how. One World, One Dream.

Breakfast: AFP (awesome fresh pineapple), cereal with sticks and marbles, banana, two hard-boiled eggs, yogurt.

Late yesterday Joe Posnanski said several writer-friends had rented a van and were going to the Great Wall at Mutannyu (MOO-tahn-you) and invited me to join. Joe and I had enjoyed our Choc-o-Pass tour of Torino’s finest chocolatiers. We had vowed to find similar adventure here.

I had fallen in love with the Great Wall last week and never thought I would return. Now here I was, going back five days later.

Thursday, August 21

(Bill Hancock, a Prairie Village resident, is working as a media attaché for the United States Olympic Committee in Beijing. It's his eighth Olympics. He has never blogged before and is pretty nervous. He says he only has a few minutes to prepare these random notes and no time to edit. He asked that we cut him some slack.)

Nie how. (Howdy.) One World, One Dream.

The morning run around the neighborhood is terrific; I love it. Yes, for the exercise, but more for connecting with regular people. I like to play the smile game—smile, say hello and see if they respond. They probably think I’m the hutong idiot, walking around with a grin on my face, but so what?

An elderly woman gave me the finest smile-back so far. She removed her glasses, rocked back on her heels, scanned me from head to toe and then beamed.

Breakfast: AFP (awesome fresh pineapple), cereal with sticks and marbles, two hard-boiled eggs, ham, yogurt, water, orange juice.

Well, finally back home after our 12 day adventure, and it is unanimous - it was worth every dime, but ohhh, so good to sleep in our own beds (even though sleep has been hard to come by as of yet).

Matt & the other 8 men in his boat, put together a great race and came away with the bronze. All felt very positive about their effort and result, which is what it is all about. After we all caught our breath, the whole gang felt equally as thrilled. Nothing quite like seeing our boy on the podium - wow! Our whole section in the grand stand became U.S. rowing fans, even the Nederlander's in their very special fluorescent orange polyester flare bottom suits. (Tried to get one fan to give his up, but they were not for trading. We most likely would not have wanted to see him in such a state of undress either, so it was probably for the best. Not only that, but the airlines frown on packing flammable items...).

Even though it was the first real night that we could see the stars and the moon, they were not very aligned for the after celebratory events, as we spent the next 3 hours trying to get down into Beijing to join the other rowers and U.S. Olympic athletes. We arrived with Matt, Bryan and Beau just in time for the locking of the gates of the Beijing Zoo, where Visa was hosting the U.S. athletes throughout the Olympics. Well, not too many Olympic medalists can say that they had their celebration dinner at the McDonald's at midnight. Just a titch of a let down, but when you are with the right people, you really can say "I'm Lovin' It" and mean it.

Wednesday, August 20

(Bill Hancock, a Prairie Village resident, is working as a media attaché for the United States Olympic Committee in Beijing. It's his eighth Olympics. This is his daily blog, with his apologies for sloppy writing. He says he only has a few minutes to prepare these random notes and no time to edit. He suggested we cut him some slack. After all, we did not criticize Lewis's and Clark's notes. We're not sure the comparison is valid, but here goes.)

Nie how. One World, One Dream.

The morning run around the neighborhood is terrific; I love it. Yes, for the exercise, but moreso for connecting with regular people. I like to play the smile game—smile, say hello and see if they respond. They probably think I’m the hutong idiot, but so what?

Today I got a nice smile-back from the security man who was squatting beside the newspaper stand. The Chinese are great squatters. The can sit for hours with their tails a half-inch from the ground, filing their nails, reading the paper or just doing nothing. It’s yet another admirable trait.