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Main
Date: 05 Nov 2007 12:18:04
From: marian.rosenberg@gmail.com
Subject: Mass Chaos and Confusion TdH Prologue
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I was late.
I promised Wang if he let me go home to my own bed to sleep instead of
the race hotel and let me go home early I'd be at the Opening
Ceremonies nice and early.
I was late.
It wasn't really my fault. Except that it was my fault because I
didn't think.
First I decided against riding to the Opening Ceremonies on the
absolutely stupid premise that perhaps there might not be a place to
park my bike. Then I took a moto-taxi and got one who inisted,
despite my staff badge, that he wasn't going to go onto a closed
road. He wouldn't even try to go up to the barrier but instead drove
in a wide circle around the barricaded area before finally giving up
and refusing to take any money from me but leaving me a kilometer and
a half from the Opening Ceremonies.
Despite my ability with bikes, I'm not especially good at walking and
a kilometer and a half is pushing my limits.
I didn't do anything especially useful at the Opening Ceremonies.
In fact I'd go so far as to say I didn't do anything useful.
As a general rule they were well organized. With only 3000 spectators
they were about a tenth the size of the Opening Ceremonies for Qinghai
Lake. They didn't include a single famous act from outside the
province and had only three or four song and dance numbers. It was
really quite tasteful and it was clear that the spectacle was
focussing on the cyclists rather than the cyclists being an excuse for
the spectacle.
I've never seen daytime fireworks before and the colored smoke bombs
were actually kind of cool.
There were some minor problems with traffic control. One of the
Australians told me someone walked onto the course as he was making
the first turn. Also, when walking back across the street, the Miss
World contestants (who had attended the Opening Ceremonies in reversed
seats at the front rows of the audience) stopped in the middle of the
street right past the finish line to wave which made one guy have to
stop rather faster than he had intended.
After Opening Ceremonies I tried (and failed) to convince the person
whose car I was riding back to the main hotel with to make a detour by
my place so I could pick up my luggage. It wasn't that big of a
loss. Just that I would have liked to have had my coffee maker with
me. Later on that evening I would have all of the members of the
Commissaires' Panel ask me at least once (and some of them twice) what
had happened to the promised coffee.
The day before I had arranged coffee to be brought to the office by
the resort. In the morning they gave it to us for free. In the
afternoon they charged me 200rmb for the pot. At more than 25 US
dollars I wasn't especially inclined to pay for coffee again when I
had my own coffee maker. But, having promised to arrange future
rounds of coffee, I got thoroughly teased about not having it there
with me.
After having been told that notwithstanding the fact that an English
speaking com was on the sweeps bus I was also too important to the
organization this year to be allowed to ride in the convoy and
absolutely had to leave 90 minutes before the race with the office
vehicles the day ended with a wonderful surprise.
The driver of Com 3's car called me.
Somehow, by some oversight, a translator had not been arranged.
Where did I plan to be in the convoy tomorrow?
Would I like the position?
Hell yes.
-M
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Date: 11 Nov 2007 13:14:18
From: marian.rosenberg@gmail.com
Subject: Re: Mass Chaos and Confusion TdH the Aftermath
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That evening, having already had far too much red wine at the closing
ceremonies I went to the disco with the guys from Intel.
We tried to arrange a Qinghai Lake like semi disorganized everyone
going to the same club but it fell through and it was just me and them
and their team liaison.
Polish people were also involved the last time (which was also the
first time) I got so drunk I threw up. In all fairness to them I
don't think it was anything they did. At least I don't remember
drinking much of anything but water at the first club and it was in
the street on the way to the second that I ended up losing the meal
I'd just eaten. Things felt a lot less dizzy after that.
I stayed with them through club three and back to club one. The
masseur was a real grabby touchy dancer with anyone female but, for
some reason, no one seemed the slightest bit bothered by this. At a
bit past 2am, it was decided that it was time to go back to the team
hotel.
I was all in favor of pouring the five of them into one taxi and
taking another one to my home. They wanted to take the three wheeled
sidecar moto-taxis. For some reason that is semi-obscure from this
vantage point they wanted me to go with them and then were going to
pay to send me home again. For some other equally obscure reason it
seemed like a good idea at the time.
The other two motos ran a stop light that mine and the masseur's
didn't. We then got stopped at another light and they were well ahead
of us. Out on the beach road we see them stopped in the middle of the
road arguing with their motos. They've already paid 100rmb and the
driver wants more to take them the rest of the way. It's only 35 by
metered taxi.
They all say that it will get taken care of soon enough and insists
that the masseur isn't feeling very well and we should go on ahead.
They'll catch up. They don't catch up.
Even with our moto going very slow (caused in part by my vociferously
arguing with her in a mix of Mandarin and Hainanese that she agreed to
the damn price and was not going to cheat us and that I was a
goddamned local who had some clue about how much things cost and
didn't appreciate her whining about how far away it was now that we
were halfway there) they don't catch up.
Five minutes after we've arrived at the hotel they still haven't
caught up.
Nor ten minutes later.
Which is when the front desk suggests that I call the police.
It seemed like a silly suggestion at the time but when the police send
someone out to drive along the beach road they CAN'T FIND THEM.
Suddenly I'm very sober. The beach road is dark in places, mostly
deserted, and I've heard more than a few stories over the years about
people in China getting mugged when taking illegal taxis. I doubt
that any of the four are carrying weapons or would be in any condition
to use them and stories of people getting knifed or bashed on the head
are disturbingly running on a loop track through the back of my mind.
By 3am I've managed to get a taxi that's heading back towards the city
and we drive very very slowly along the road to see if we can find
them anywhere. Nothing.
My taxi has just stopped in front of my building and I'm paying him
when my phone rings. It's the police. They've found them. They're
alright and at a restaurant having a late night snack. The officer
hands my phone over to one of them (I think the team manager) and I
extract the promise that they will stay RIGHT THERE and wait for me
and not move until I get there, I'm in a taxi now and I'm coming to
pick them up. He says they are only five minutes away from the hotel
and no problem can make it back but I insist.
I tell the police the same thing.
But, not two minutes before we arrive at the restaurant they call to
say the guys have just left. Again on sidecar motos. Sorry, we know
you wanted them to wait but they were quite drunk in addition to being
taller and stronger than the officers and since they weren't doing
anything illegal the police weren't especially interested in fighting
with them.
Back to the team hotel. The security guard says two motos with drunk
bike race people have just arrived but he's not sure that they are the
ones I'm looking for. It's now 4:30 in the morning. I tear the team
info sign off of the noticeboard and go to each of their rooms
knocking on the doors and then call many times on the house phone.
But no one picks up.
And I'm now at the team hotel.
Lucky for me someone has a stupid early flight that was arranged out
of the wrong city and the van driver says he'll drop me off at home on
his way to the expressway. I don't realize until I'm in the van that
the someones who are flying out of the wrong city are Team China. Now
I can understand if the Swiss National Team, for example, were to book
tickets to the wrong city and then need to change it or deal with it
although I can't actually remember what their solution was. I cannot,
however, think of any reason why TEAM CHINA's person responsible for
booking tickets would make that mistake. But, that is exactly what
happened.
I get home to discover that while I've been gone my cat has had
diarrhea on my blankets and that she's so happy to see me and so
affectionate that I can't sleep for all her nuzzling, rubbing, and
loving on my being there. Even when I open the window to let her out
for a bit of a wander she won't go and in fact fights when I try
deliberately putting her outside. Pitiful howling noises start before
the bathroom door is even closed all the way and eventually I give up
but exhaustion eventually wins out and I sleep.
Around noon I head back to the team hotel and end up meeting the guys
from Intel. At first they can't understand why I was worried about
them. The one rider lets me know he's 27 years old and perfectly
capable of taking care of himself. And it wasn't like they were
carrying very much money. The tens of thousands of dollars wad of
cash was left in the hotel. Letting them know the average waitress or
shopgirl's salary doesn't make much of an impression on how much the
'small' amount they were carrying really is in normal Chinese terms.
Letting them know the salary of my friend who just started work for
Shimano, however, made quite an impression. They spent more than that
in just booze the night before.
Without my even needing to ask they offer to pay me back for the money
I spent on taxis and also give me a new jersey as a way of saying
sorry for scaring me cause it sure didn't seem to them like it took
almost 3 hours to get from the bar back to the hotel but a lot of the
details of the night before are a bit fuzzy in places.
My getting one of their team jerseys prompted Frank to want one too.
As the only bilingual cyclists who have anything at all to do with
working at the Tour the two of us really scored a lot of cool stuff.
Unfortunately, they didn't have any new ones left. But, since they
are really close in build, the overall winner gave Frank one of his
still stinky race jerseys. For him this was even cooler than having a
new jersey. I also got the overall winner to explain to Frank that "I
don't want to leave my friends in Hainan" is a good reason but "I'll
never be much of a racer because I'm only really good at mountains"
was not a good reason for turning down the Shanxi Province Team's
offer to him to become a new rider.
In addition to Intel jerseys for both of us, Frank also got a South
Africa jersey and a McDonald's jersey with bib shorts that were
originally supposed to be for me (arranged pre-race) but which were
too small. McDonald's got my address so they can mail me a set that
fit. They also gave me a pair of gloves and I have a pair of socks to
pass along the next time I see Arrigo. Marco Polo is going to mail me
a clothing item of my choice (I choose shorts) in return for
introducing them to my boss as a potential sponsor. I also have a
long sleeved jersey from Polygon Sweet Nice and a bunch of random
water bottles.
-M
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Date: 11 Nov 2007 12:11:56
From: marian.rosenberg@gmail.com
Subject: Re: Mass Chaos and Confusion TdH Stage Seven
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Com 3 was very impressed with the driver's skills. Given that the
cars provided by the sponsor weren't anything special (in part because
the cars made the sponsor aren't anything special) his ability to go
hurtling down a twisty mountain road at 80kph was quite impressive.
However, as I was thrown back and forth across the back seat I only
wished that one of the ways in which the Com hadn't emphasized how
impressed he was with the driver's skills was to tell a story about
how he was once Com 2 at a race in Japan and was in a nasty collision
with a rock wall because his driver hadn't been good enough. It
wasn't so much telling about the rock wall that disturbed me as the
way in which he casually mentioned how lucky it was to have been the
large rock to the right instead of the cliff to the left.
The finish line was a great disappointment. In every small hamlet we
passed through and even in Haikou people lined the streets. In Sanya
it was as if no one knew. People went on about their daily business
as if the road being closed was merely a minor inconvenience that was
going to go away soon enough. The most peculiar thing about it though
was that much of it was the same road which had been used for the
Sanya City Circuit Race the month before and our far smaller groups of
slower riders without any kind of convoy at all had quite an
impressive turnout.
In the race office I was working on writing one of these letters when
Gan came into the office and demanded I move so he could print
something. I had long since gone past sick and tired of his behavior
and I knew that most of the Chinese people I was working with were
too. Although I've been there when he's misjudged the boundaries and
gotten a verbal warning he's generally only demanding and boorish to
people he thinks are not higher ranking than himself so he doesn't
usually get yelled at for it. I refused to move.
He huffed that he needed to print something now and I needed to move.
I answered that I was currently using it.
He asked what I was using the computer for.
I answered that I was using it.
Is it something race related?
Does it matter?
I need to print.
You need to ask nicely.
Aggrieved and sarcastic he says "May I PLEASE use the computer?"
That wasn't polite enough. Please try again.
He attempts to grab the mouse out of my hand.
So, since it's a laptop, I close the screen.
He's shouting something about how important the document he needs to
get off his USB and print.
I quietly interject that I'll do anything for someone who asks nicely
but nothing for someone who demands.
He turns to the head of the team liaisons and demands that he tell me
in English that he needs to use the computer.
As passively as me he responds that I understand Chinese and perhaps
he should consider telling me himself.
But I did tell her and she doesn't understand how important it is, he
shouts.
I think she understands perfectly. Perhaps you should consider saying
please.
But I said PLEASE, he whines.
Please only means please when said nicely, I say.
Get up and let me sit down.
There's another laptop in the bag over there. Why don't you set it up
and use that one?
He stomps over, grabs the laptop and sets it up. He can't make it
recognize the printer and demands that someone do something about it
because he MUST print this document NOW.
A shy girl who I never would have thought to be the sort to challenge
people suggests that he use the business center down the hall. It's
only 2rmb per page.
And with that the tempest leaves.
I help out for a bit where they are paying out prize money. Because
China is still very much a cash economy where accountants see nothing
at all strange about handling hundreds of thousands of dollars cash
they are all very amused by the ways in which the various foreign
teams count their money. Intel Action and Russia both walk away with
over USD $30,000 cash.
Then, the closing ceremonies which are a great big bash with lots of
incredible food and even decent red wine from California (apparently
one of our sponsors is a wine importer) which I drink far too much of,
lots of photographs with lots of people, and all the usual stuff you
expect at the end of any kind of big event. The very best part for me
was, however, when Com 3 made me promise that I'll do my best in the
next year to get certified as a Chinese commissaire.
-M
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Date: 11 Nov 2007 12:11:11
From: marian.rosenberg@gmail.com
Subject: Re: Mass Chaos and Confusion TdH Stage Six
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Dongfang - Wuzhishan
While Com 3's driver and I are waiting at the main hotel for the Com
to show up one of the riders comes up to me and says he heard that I'm
a cyclist. He's got a friend from Lampre Fondital who traded him a
size small jersey and shorts a while back and he'll give them to me
for USD $100. Made in Italy. It's not just size small, it's size
tiny. I only know one person in that size range who might be
interested and he's not a good enough friend for me to spend that kind
of money on a gift. I counter offer USD $50 but with two days left
before his flight he's not interested.
I'm not quite sure how far we've gone into the mountains when I notice
a helicopter is following the convoy.
I immediately send a text message to the Espinozas and Arrigo. Tim
texts back "if you see twin contrails, duck" while Arrigo asks me to
confirm where I am.
Tim doesn't have any especial aeronautic qualifications but he has
lived in Hainan for five or six years. Arrigo works at Meilan Airport
as the agent for Airbus.
Arrigo writes me again to ask that I tell him if the helicopter is
still following us after ten minutes.
Ten minutes later the helicopter is still following us.
And twenty.
And thirty.
And forty.
He writes to ask about the markings. Am I very certain that it says
"China Southern" and very certain that I'm near Dongfang and very
certain that we are in the mountains. Positive? Completely.
I'm sure that the helicopter had a very specific flight plan that it
wasn't allowed to deviate from at all. I'm sure very strict warnings
were issued regarding what would happen if the helicopter did deviate
from the flight plan. And I'm sure that whoever authorized a video-
camera carrying helicopter going directly through the middle of the no-
fly zone had lots of advance warning for making sure nothing
(sensitive or otherwise) was outside.
But still... every time I think I've realized just how much clout the
bike race has something sneaks up and bites me and says that the race
is even more than that.
Throughout the stage we pass through a number of military controlled
areas. The most obvious difference is that instead of volunteers with
red hats, or special t-shirts, or police officers all the people
controlling the crowds and blocking the access points are soldiers.
When we were behind the Team China car I noticed that many of them
saluted as he drove past.
That morning I had read in the newspaper that over 75,000 people were
being used during the course of the race to maintain safe traffic
conditions.
The crowds at the finish in Wuzhishan are as impressive as we've had
anywhere else. This time the crowd watchers are Wu Jing ... armed
military police.
I take the sweeps bus to the main hotel and have an amusing moment
where one of the bilingual Chinese coms (who has, admittedly, never
actually had a conversation with me in English) is talking with the
only rider on the bus. The rider asks something about the race office
and I'm about to answer when the com decides to translate for me (just
in case my listening comprehension isn't so good and I didn't get it
the first time) and ask me again in Chinese.
I make an exaggerated point of mentioning (in Chinese of course) that
many of the people at this race think I have very good English and
that some have even gone so far as to say that my English
pronunciation is the best among all the translators.
Since I'm all to myself again and un-booked rooms are in short supply
I let the bike shop owner stay with me.
-M
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Date: 11 Nov 2007 10:29:40
From: marian.rosenberg@gmail.com
Subject: Re: Mass Chaos and Confusion TdH Stage Five
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Danzhou - Dongfang
By Stage 5 the whole waking up in the morning thing was starting to
become an ingrained habit. I was already in the shower by the time my
alarm clock rung at 7:15.
Since my boss's wife and kids went to Germany in the middle of July
his daily schedule has changed dramatically. And as his schedule has
changed the office has gradually adapted to not ever actually needing
to be there before 9:30 but occasionally being required to be there at
1am. One of the many reasons I'm so especially fond of my job is
because waking up in the morning is not an especially useful habit in
my office.
I do not look forward to the "jet-lag" I'm going to have when I re-
adapt to a more normal working schedule.
The only redeeming thing about breakfast was that I ate it with
friends. I've been in China for more than five years and with the
exception of mornings after I've been riding (at which time no such
thing as bad food exists) I just don't like Chinese breakfast. In
addition to not really liking Chinese breakfast I really don't like
Chinese Hotel Breakfast. In addition to really not liking Chinese
Hotel Breakfast I'm even less fond of Chinese Hotel Buffet Breakfast.
I managed to find something to eat. A hard boiled egg. A sticky rice
cake. A glass of tea. It wasn't much and I was real glad that I had
had the foresight to buy snack food for the car the morning before
Stage Four's 188 kilometers.
My formal position is in the secretariat as a staff member. This
means I'm supposed to be leaving the hotel in a staff car and going
straight to Dongfang. This means it's utterly pointless to stick
around the hotel trying to find a car that will go to the start line.
I know from the prologue that even though there are hours to go before
things really get set up the area will already be closed to traffic
and I'll have to end up walking anyway so I don't bother with trying
to get a taxi or a moto and just start walking. I hate walking.
Walking hurts.
At the start line I saw Director Zhang from the Tour of Qinghai Lake.
He'd heard that I was in the Com car in addition to being in the
secretariat and mentioned how tired I must certainly be. Definitely.
Very tired. But it's not half so bad as it was at your race. "And
why's that?" he asks with a tone to his voice that suggests that he
can't believe I'd be quite so crass as to say something bad about his
race right to his face. I might think a lot of bad things about the
way his race was organized but I don't think any of those things were
his fault and I know I'm not the person to be saying those things to
him. Instead I say something that has nothing to do with the quality
of organization but is equally true about why this race is better than
his. "The air here is full of oxygen."
Zhang is someone who has spent most of his life at elevation. Even for
someone who doesn't feel bad at elevation being at sea-level breathes
entirely differently. You've got more energy than you knew you had.
And it feels good. He tells me I'm right and says that he's gotten
drunk on the way the air down here is so full of oxygen but, despite
being drunk, has no plans to collapse in the middle of the street and
hopes that I don't either.
You'd think people would forget a little thing like that.
I hang around at the start line talking with some college students
who, while not actually really having anything specific to do, have
been picked by their school as having excellent English and have
gotten one-day staff badges. Nice enough kids.
By the morning commissaires' meeting I'm starting to get the hang of
this live translating thing. Although the Chief Com's Hong Kong
accent isn't the easiest to decipher and despite his habit of not
stopping between sentences I'm actually getting enough of it quickly
enough into English that the other international commissaries know
what he's talking about without asking him questions afterwards. The
meeting is mostly for the benefit of the Chinese coms so if I miss a
sentence or three or have to paraphrase they've still got a pretty
good idea of what he was telling them. There is a very good reason
why real time translators get such high salaries and an equally good
reason why I'm not one yet.
I prefer translating for Com 3. He goes one sentence at a time,
leaves long pauses, and is willing to rephrase things in simple
English to explain terminology that I don't yet get. He also repeats
himself, uses hand gestures, and likes to make very clear sketch
drawings about exactly what he's talking about.
Every day the Technical Advisor from Australia has a different place
in the convoy watching different things and making suggestions about
how things ought to be done to be done better. Today I'm sharing the
back seat of Com 3's car with him.
After Stage 4's crowds it is hard to believe that the crowds could get
any bigger. We start the morning off on the local roads south of
Danzhou and it is as if the entire population has come out to watch
us. One can tell that one is approaching a town by the way that the
it changes from being scattered groups of three and four by the side
of the road to solid lines of people and eventually rows upon rows. At
one sharp left turn the road we were on continues up a hill and the
people are standing there, filling both lanes of the road and the
shoulders all the way out to the tree line for a hundred and fifty
meters up the road.
But still the crowds get bigger.
I remember the climb coming into Baisha. I remember it once being
insanely difficult and I'm pleased to see that it's rated as a Cat 2
KoM. I remember the exhaustion I once felt at the top. I remember
the exhilarating rush coming down into the city. I'm in a car this
time but the rush is bigger than before.
The road is actually pretty straight on the downhill so this rush is
not the adrenaline filled "we're going to DIE" rush I feel on some of
the mountains. This rush is caused by the crowds.
I do not exaggerate when I say that the entire population of the city,
perhaps 100,000 people in all, are lining the road. At the softly
exhaled "oh my god" on the part of the Technical Advisor I ask, all
innocence, "do you not get crowds like this at races in Australia?" I
wouldn't know. This is only my third race and the previous two were
also in China. He repeats, a bit incredulously, "not get crowds like
this at races in Australia? Do we not get crowds like this at races
in Australia? You don't get crowds like this anywhere in the world.
The Tour de France doesn't even get crowds like this."
It couldn't have hardly been more than two kilometers of people lining
both sides of the street four and five deep while other people stood
on the roofs of buildings or hung out windows and sat on balconies.
Now that we are into the mountains Com 3 really starts having work to
do which means despite Wang I have to get on the radio fairly
frequently. I can't actually remember which moto-com he wanted at the
time or why but the moto wasn't answering.
So I called again.
And he didn't copy.
Again I called.
Again no answer.
I waited for gaps in the radio chatter so I didn't go over anyone
else.
I left appropriate pauses, and I called.
And nothing happened.
I checked to make sure the microphone was connected.
I spoke clearly and slowly without a stutter at all.
And nothing happened.
Finally the Com got really annoyed and asked me to hand him the radio
so he could call to the Chief Com and ask him to do something about
it. Many Japanese Kanji are the same as Chinese. Which is how he was
able to tell I had confused the microphones and was calling on the
Radio Tour. The moto-coms don't get the Radio Tour frequency.
The hotel in Dongfang is far far away from the finish line and while
everyone is busy at the awards ceremony I start walking and end up
riding in a local police vehicle. Ever curious I ask about the crowds
and while they say that they most certainly put up notifications about
the event there was no forced attendance, in fact, as the people who
are directly on the line and directly responsible for controlling
public order they rather wish there were less people here to watch
us. It would be more convenient for them.
Although, by now, the reception department has agreed to give the
secretariat meal tickets in the hotel they are working in I can't find
them and, again, must bluff my way into the cafeteria. This time I
don't even have meal tickets for my own hotel.
In the evening when I go to my own hotel I find myself on an elevator
with two people who aren't from the race. I try to make small talk
with them and ask what they are doing in town.
Are they here on business?
They are not here on business.
Are they here on vacation?
No, they aren't here on vacation.
Did they come to watch the race?
No, they didn't come to watch the race.
So where are they from, why are they in town?
We're from Dongfang.
Then what are you doing at the hotel?
They awkwardly look away from me and there is a long silence until
they get off the elevator.
Oops.
In the morning I have a gorgeous view of the port from my hotel window
which far more than compensates for the pervasive mildew smell I had
to put up with all night.
-M
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Date: 10 Nov 2007 06:10:26
From: marian.rosenberg@gmail.com
Subject: Re: Mass Chaos and Confusion TdH Stage Three
|
On Nov 9, 12:31 pm, Ryan Cousineau <rcous...@sfu.ca > wrote:
> In article <1194523997.637280.161...@s15g2000prm.googlegroups.com>,
>
>
>
>
>
> "marian.rosenb...@gmail.com" <marian.rosenb...@gmail.com> wrote:
> > On Nov 8, 4:08 pm, Ryan Cousineau <rcous...@sfu.ca> wrote:
> > > In article <1194356671.990110.190...@q3g2000prf.googlegroups.com>,
>
> > > "marian.rosenb...@gmail.com" <marian.rosenb...@gmail.com> wrote:
>
> > > These entries are great! But I am curious as to what (to the extent you
> > > are willing to say) is the cause of the com-car omerta you describe. Is
> > > it a case of conversations like "oh, there's rider X, that's a rather
> > > dubious-looking bottle pass/caravan drafting move he pulling, but he
> > > just had a flat, so we're not going to record that one"?
> > Having just earned myself the right to sit in a com car I'm not going
> > to jeopardize that right by trying to figure out what I can and cannot
> > write about.
>
> > When I've had enough experience to know exactly where the line is I'll
> > be willing to write about the safe stuff. Right now I'll be actively
> > silent. Especially since the most interesting parts of what happens
> > on the road tend to involve lots of radio chatter, lots of vehicles
> > changing position, and lots of taking notes.
>
> Fair enough. There's good reasons to not say what's going on during the
> adjudication process of com incidents, or what happens as the coms
> figure out what to do about a particular race-management issue.
>
> Also, I once drove off-course multiple times while working in the
> caravan of a road race. That sucked, and was seriously embarrassing.
>
>
>
>
>
> > > > The most serious crash almost certain was the one that came after
> > > > the finish line. It wasn't that the extent of damage was large.
> > > > However, only one photographer was hurt. If one cyclist and a bunch
> > > > of photographers were injured one could, perhaps, blame it on the
> > > > rider. When it is one cyclist and only one photographer one begins to
> > > > feel that the photographer doesn't have a very good chance of being
> > > > allowed to take pictures in Stage Four.
>
> > > There's a very well-defined UCI protocol for photographer positioning at
> > > the finish line. Faint memory suggest it involves a diagonal line that
> > > starts at least 15m from the finish, and photographers standing behind
> > > that. It's likely the photographer was either illegally positioned, or
> > > the rider just crashed into him regardless.
>
> > Whether or not it was bad riding or bad positioning it is bad news for
> > the photographer.
>
> > Not only was his telephoto lens damaged quite possibly beyond repair
> > he also got some bumps and bruises.
> > Not only was the Look carbon fork on the rider's bike completely
> > shattered the Look carbon frame was also cracked.
> > Not only was the bike destroyed the rider was also hurt bad enough to
> > leave the race.
> > Not only was the rider hurt the rider in question is also with the
> > National Team.
> > This photographer was with the Xinhua National News Agency Sports
> > Department.
>
> Interesting and complicated! It's quite possible that the expensive lens
> was a pool-issued piece of equipment, so like the rider and his bicycle,
> the photographer probably won't have to pay for it.
>
> > Who wants to bet he isn't with them anymore?
>
> Well, some combo of the commis', the other photographers, and the video
> replay will be able to determine who was in the wrong place. If the
> rider just whacked into the photographer, force majeur is almost
> certainly to be presumed, and there will be no material penalty to rider
> or photographer. If the photographer was in a place where he was not
> supposed to be, he's going to have a very bad time of it very soon.
His bad time of it is more likely to come from his employers than it
is from the race. And while they might not deliberately make it an
obvious bad time for him there is no circumstance, no matter how
accidental, where wiping out one of the national team's stars is
conducive to job advancement.
> There are gray areas, (photographer leaning in from the barricades: okay
> in practice, unless the photographer gets in the way of the riders) but
> the after-finish area is very well defined as to the places
> photographers can be.
It's not clear on the only video. You can see him and a bunch of
other photographers leaning over the line and then you can see him
with one foot over the line, then back inside the line with his upper
body at the edge of what might be considered acceptable, then the one
person who got footage follows the stage winner, then the footage
stalls and jumps forward two seconds after which you see two riders
looking over their shoulder, and then the guy from Team China slides
into view.
-M
|
| |
Date: 08 Nov 2007 12:18:12
From: marian.rosenberg@gmail.com
Subject: Re: Mass Chaos and Confusion TdH Stage Four
|
The crowds at the start of Stage 4 were not small.
There was nothing about the crowds at the start of Stage 4 that would
make you describe them as small.
Unless, of course, you had seen the crowds during the intermediate
sprint at Dazhipo in Stage 3.
If you had seen the crowds during the intermediate sprint at Dazhipo
in Stage 3 or had any inkling what the crowds were going to be like
during the intermediate sprint at Jinjiang in Stage 4 then you would
describe the crowds at the start of Stage 4 as small.
But, in reality, they weren't really very small at all.
They just seemed small by comparison.
I've been told again and again (and again and again) by all sorts of
various people that the reason why the race uses the expressway in a
number of locations is because the condition of the pavement on the
national highway is unsuitable. Sufficiently unsuitable that nearly
300 kilometers of G223 have been ripped up all the way down to the
road bed for repaving just because of the race.
Now I'm not saying that repaving G223 isn't a good idea. I'm all in
favor of repaving the G223. I'm not especially fond of bumpy tarmac.
And as part of the repaving project they are also removing and
replacing a large number of narrow and/or dangerous bridges.
But...
There was a short stretch of about 10 kilometers where, for lack of a
better option, the race had to go on the G225. The 225 is even more
unsuitable than the 223 was before they removed the pavement. Where
the 223 was merely bump bump bumpety like Pooh Bear thump thump
thumping his way down the stairs the 225 is more like Tigger.
Since I was conveniently in an international commissaire's car at the
time I asked him about the poor road condition.
What poor road condition?
This poor road condition.
Where?
Here.
This was a bad road?
This was a really bad road.
Was I sure?
Yes.
This was not a bad road.
Yes it was a bad road.
No it wasn't.
Yes it was.
It most certainly was not a bad road and if the organizers really
thought this was a bad road they ought to take a look at some of the
roads they use in races in Europe.
(But it was a really bad road... really... everyone tells me so)
When I saw the crowds at the intermediate sprint in Jinjiang I thought
they were huge. This was before I saw the crowds the next day at the
intermediate sprint in Baisha. And this was without knowing that by
normal standards the crowd at the start line in Haikou had been really
quite exceptional.
>From my trip to the Tour of Qinghai Lake and from various episodes
throughout the year of being stopped in the middle of the countryside
by people who wanted to know if I had anything to do with "the Bike
Race" I knew that despite the various organized activities including
marching bands, great masses of identically dressed schoolchildren
with flags, and sometimes big red festival drums (the kind that take
at least two people to beat) lining the route as far as five
kilometers back along the route before a town I knew that the vast
majority of the people were there not because someone told them to be
but because they wanted to be there and wanted to see what was going
on. I also knew that as soon as we flashed by and the police opened
traffic up again that it was all going to dissolve into one great
chaotic holiday for the crowd.
We were back on the expressway when we passed Lingao. Here the usual
crowds plus the usual group of dancers and usual group of musicians
was augmented by a less usual group of performers standing alongside
the road with two and three person operated Lingao Opera Puppets
waving at us.
I've never been to Lingao. I've not even really passed through it.
The 225 is to the south of the expressway and Lingao to the north and
for some reason or another I've never really felt the need to go on a
mission of bicycle exploration to that part of the island. So many
other places exist. Places that are conveniently situated between
here and there. Places where I know no matter how lost I let myself
get there will always be a way to find a bus back to Haikou or Sanya.
Lingao is not one of those places. And, even if it were one of those
places, it is highly unlikely that I would have stopped there for too
much longer than a cup of lemon ice, a sweet dimsum, and a hard boiled
egg or two. If it weren't for the bike race I never would have even
known that such a thing existed as Lingao Opera let alone two and
three person operated Lingao Opera Puppets.
For the most part, however, the expressway looked like an expressway.
Because of the way it carefully avoided anything troublesome like
towns, villages, hills, or scenery it was boring in the way that only
an expressway can be boring. I practiced taking acceptably readable
notes and tried really hard to catch what the Moto-Com said in Chinese
to the Radio Tour about the breakaways before he announced the same
information on the public channel in order and in English. It only
being my fourth ever time in a Com Car I think I did fairly alright
which is to say not too exceptionally terrible.
In Danzhou I met with my friends Joe and Anna for coffee and ended up
sitting with them in the secretariat until late chatting. Anna
pointed out, quite correctly, that perhaps one of the reasons why I
was having power politics problems with Wang was because I was popular
in a way that he never could be. It wasn't just that I am foreign and
have useful skills. I'm also a girl. About ten years younger than
him. And working at a male dominated event. I suspect that he will
never ever get away with tickling a high level official.
Anna was really pleased with the race being in town since it meant
that she got to talk Russian with real Russians (and Georgians, and
Ukrainians, and even got to talk Kazakh with other people from
Kazakhstan). Joe not only thinks bike racing is cool but had the
chance to talk French with one of the guys from Italy.
Finally, at about 11pm I headed to my hotel by way of one of the other
staff hotels so I could pick up my luggage. It was quite well
furnished with two hand towels, two bath towels, two water glasses,
two tea mugs, two beds (each with two pillows), two wall lamps, two
floor lamps, two mahjongg tables, two condoms (at 2rmb apiece), two
soap dispensers, two chairs, and two windows. There was only one
public health pamphlet.
-M
|
| |
Date: 08 Nov 2007 12:13:17
From: marian.rosenberg@gmail.com
Subject: Re: Mass Chaos and Confusion TdH Stage Three
|
On Nov 8, 4:08 pm, Ryan Cousineau <rcous...@sfu.ca > wrote:
> In article <1194356671.990110.190...@q3g2000prf.googlegroups.com>,
>
> "marian.rosenb...@gmail.com" <marian.rosenb...@gmail.com> wrote:
>
> These entries are great! But I am curious as to what (to the extent you
> are willing to say) is the cause of the com-car omerta you describe. Is
> it a case of conversations like "oh, there's rider X, that's a rather
> dubious-looking bottle pass/caravan drafting move he pulling, but he
> just had a flat, so we're not going to record that one"?
Some stuff probably skirts the line of what I can and cannot talk
about having happened.
Other stuff is probably right over the line into what I most
definitely cannot talk about.
Still other stuff, like the Com commenting on the waves and mentioning
that it looks like great weather for surfing followed by me
telephoning my friends who like to go surfing and giving them a brief
weather report are so far from the line that the only way people are
going to care is if it is or is not well written.
Having just earned myself the right to sit in a com car I'm not going
to jeopardize that right by trying to figure out what I can and cannot
write about. I've already gotten yelled at by someone who isn't even
a com because he heard I had discussed the results with someone else
when the two of us had the results in front of us. And the specific
penalty in question wasn't even one that had been seen from the car I
was in.
When I've had enough experience to know exactly where the line is I'll
be willing to write about the safe stuff. Right now I'll be actively
silent. Especially since the most interesting parts of what happens
on the road tend to involve lots of radio chatter, lots of vehicles
changing position, and lots of taking notes.
> > At the breakfast buffet I ran into Wang. He wanted to let me know
> > that he had decided that I would be allowed to talk on the radio in
> > Chinese but if he heard me talk on the radio in English I would be
> > permanently out of the race.
> > Lots of crashes near the end of the stage which seems strange
> > because it isn't an especially dangerous stretch of road. Last year
> > saw a lot of crashes in the same place. It must be haunted or
> > something.
>
> Riders at all levels need no reason to crash. I sometimes think that
> obviously dangerous sections cause riders to compensate aggressively,
> thus being less prone to crashing there, while the ordinary
> "just-riding-along" parts of the course are where riders will be in
> tight quarters, not worrying about falling down, and that's when two
> guys in the middle of the pack hook bars and pull each other down.
Hmmm.
> > The most serious crash almost certain was the one that came after
> > the finish line. It wasn't that the extent of damage was large.
> > However, only one photographer was hurt. If one cyclist and a bunch
> > of photographers were injured one could, perhaps, blame it on the
> > rider. When it is one cyclist and only one photographer one begins to
> > feel that the photographer doesn't have a very good chance of being
> > allowed to take pictures in Stage Four.
>
> There's a very well-defined UCI protocol for photographer positioning at
> the finish line. Faint memory suggest it involves a diagonal line that
> starts at least 15m from the finish, and photographers standing behind
> that. It's likely the photographer was either illegally positioned, or
> the rider just crashed into him regardless.
Whether or not it was bad riding or bad positioning it is bad news for
the photographer.
Not only was his telephoto lens damaged quite possibly beyond repair
he also got some bumps and bruises.
Not only was the Look carbon fork on the rider's bike completely
shattered the Look carbon frame was also cracked.
Not only was the bike destroyed the rider was also hurt bad enough to
leave the race.
Not only was the rider hurt the rider in question is also with the
National Team.
This photographer was with the Xinhua National News Agency Sports
Department.
Who wants to bet he isn't with them anymore?
-M
|
| | |
Date: 09 Nov 2007 04:31:17
From: Ryan Cousineau
Subject: Re: Mass Chaos and Confusion TdH Stage Three
|
In article <1194523997.637280.161430@s15g2000prm.googlegroups.com >,
"marian.rosenberg@gmail.com" <marian.rosenberg@gmail.com > wrote:
> On Nov 8, 4:08 pm, Ryan Cousineau <rcous...@sfu.ca> wrote:
> > In article <1194356671.990110.190...@q3g2000prf.googlegroups.com>,
> >
> > "marian.rosenb...@gmail.com" <marian.rosenb...@gmail.com> wrote:
> >
> > These entries are great! But I am curious as to what (to the extent you
> > are willing to say) is the cause of the com-car omerta you describe. Is
> > it a case of conversations like "oh, there's rider X, that's a rather
> > dubious-looking bottle pass/caravan drafting move he pulling, but he
> > just had a flat, so we're not going to record that one"?
> Having just earned myself the right to sit in a com car I'm not going
> to jeopardize that right by trying to figure out what I can and cannot
> write about.
>
> When I've had enough experience to know exactly where the line is I'll
> be willing to write about the safe stuff. Right now I'll be actively
> silent. Especially since the most interesting parts of what happens
> on the road tend to involve lots of radio chatter, lots of vehicles
> changing position, and lots of taking notes.
Fair enough. There's good reasons to not say what's going on during the
adjudication process of com incidents, or what happens as the coms
figure out what to do about a particular race-management issue.
Also, I once drove off-course multiple times while working in the
caravan of a road race. That sucked, and was seriously embarrassing.
> > > The most serious crash almost certain was the one that came after
> > > the finish line. It wasn't that the extent of damage was large.
> > > However, only one photographer was hurt. If one cyclist and a bunch
> > > of photographers were injured one could, perhaps, blame it on the
> > > rider. When it is one cyclist and only one photographer one begins to
> > > feel that the photographer doesn't have a very good chance of being
> > > allowed to take pictures in Stage Four.
> >
> > There's a very well-defined UCI protocol for photographer positioning at
> > the finish line. Faint memory suggest it involves a diagonal line that
> > starts at least 15m from the finish, and photographers standing behind
> > that. It's likely the photographer was either illegally positioned, or
> > the rider just crashed into him regardless.
>
> Whether or not it was bad riding or bad positioning it is bad news for
> the photographer.
>
> Not only was his telephoto lens damaged quite possibly beyond repair
> he also got some bumps and bruises.
> Not only was the Look carbon fork on the rider's bike completely
> shattered the Look carbon frame was also cracked.
> Not only was the bike destroyed the rider was also hurt bad enough to
> leave the race.
> Not only was the rider hurt the rider in question is also with the
> National Team.
> This photographer was with the Xinhua National News Agency Sports
> Department.
Interesting and complicated! It's quite possible that the expensive lens
was a pool-issued piece of equipment, so like the rider and his bicycle,
the photographer probably won't have to pay for it.
> Who wants to bet he isn't with them anymore?
Well, some combo of the commis', the other photographers, and the video
replay will be able to determine who was in the wrong place. If the
rider just whacked into the photographer, force majeur is almost
certainly to be presumed, and there will be no material penalty to rider
or photographer. If the photographer was in a place where he was not
supposed to be, he's going to have a very bad time of it very soon.
There are gray areas, (photographer leaning in from the barricades: okay
in practice, unless the photographer gets in the way of the riders) but
the after-finish area is very well defined as to the places
photographers can be.
--
Ryan Cousineau rcousine@sfu.ca http://www.wiredcola.com/
"My scenarios may give the impression I could be an excellent crook.
Not true - I am a talented lawyer." - Sandy in rec.bicycles.racing
|
| | |
Date: 08 Nov 2007 22:08:15
From: Mike Kruger
Subject: Re: Mass Chaos and Confusion TdH Stage Three
|
marian.rosenberg@gmail.com wrote:
>
> Having just earned myself the right to sit in a com car I'm not going
> to jeopardize that right by trying to figure out what I can and cannot
> write about.
Besides, you have to save something for the book ;)
--
Mike Kruger
Go ahead, threaten me like you have the American people for so long!
You're part of a dying breed, Hapsburg, like people who can name all
fifty states! The truth hurts, doesn't it, Hapsburg? Oh sure, maybe not
as much as landing on a bicycle with the seat missing, but it hurts!
[Naked Gun 2-1/2]
|
| |
Date: 06 Nov 2007 13:44:31
From: marian.rosenberg@gmail.com
Subject: Re: Mass Chaos and Confusion TdH Stage Three
|
At the breakfast buffet I ran into Wang. He wanted to let me know
that he had decided that I would be allowed to talk on the radio in
Chinese but if he heard me talk on the radio in English I would be
permanently out of the race.
I told him it wasn't his business. I was Com 3's translator. I was
sitting in Com 3's car. Com 3 had told Com 3's translator in Com 3's
car to use Com 3's radio. The only people who got to make decisions
about Com 3's radio and who would use Com 3's radio were the
commissaires. Since Wang was not a commissaire he did not have the
right to make any decision regarding what I would or would not do on
the radio. He didn't listen.
Com 3's driver and I went over to the main hotel together. On the
way we tried to stop and get gas. The first Sinopec gas station
couldn't take the prepaid gas cards Sinopec had provided as one of the
sponsors. The next Sinopec gas station also couldn't. The third and
fourth gas stations weren't Sinopec. Nor was the fifth. On our way
back towards the hotel we passed the former location of what should
have been a Sinopec gas station but which was currently being
remodeled and then drove past a Sinopec which the driver already knew
(from the night before) as being unable to take the prepaid Sinopec
cards. Eventually he just gave up and decided to refill in Haikou.
At the hotel I told Com 3 what Wang had told me. He wasn't
especially happy about this. Something about it not being any of
Wang's business to tell Com 3's translator what she could or could not
do when sitting in Com 3's car. He said that he'd be talking to Wang
as soon as he saw him.
On my way into the hotel to grab some pastry from the buffet (my
hotel's breakfast was really good but it wasn't western breakfast and
it didn't have croissant) I saw Wang animatedly talking at an official
from the CCA. Then I saw the official talking with the Chief Com.
Back out and I see Wang being talked to by Com 3. His body language
is something I recognize from my own rebellious and unrepentant
behavior as a teen and I can tell that the words aren't even having a
chance to go in one ear before going out the other.
Later the Chief Com comes by and says that the organizer has decided
that I'm not allowed to be on the radio but that it is at Com 3's
discretion to determine whether or not a situation requires me to be
on the radio.
During the commissaires' morning meeting (which I was supposed to be
translating at) the official that Wang was talking at that morning
comes over and gets me because he has something really important to
talk to me about. It seems Wang has told him that the Chief Com has
problems with my talking on the radio and he wants to know why I was
talking on the radio. I was talking on Com 3's radio because I am Com
3's translator sitting in Com 3's car and Com 3 told me to talk on Com
3's radio. And so far as I can tell from everything I've seen and
heard about this situation the only one who has any problem with me
being on the radio is Wang and the only problem the coms have about me
being on the radio is that Wang keeps bothering them about it.
This guy actually listened to me. Or at least made a very credible
impression of listening. He said he'd talk to Com 3 to clarify the
situation. Then he told me to try not to do anything to annoy Wang
too much because he's under a lot of pressure.
Riding in the Com's car was actually pretty boring for most of Stage
Three. There were no opportunities for him to speak on the radio let
alone for him to decide, at his discretion as commissaire, that I
needed to speak on the radio.
Lots of crashes near the end of the stage which seems strange
because it isn't an especially dangerous stretch of road. Last year
saw a lot of crashes in the same place. It must be haunted or
something.
The most serious crash almost certain was the one that came after
the finish line. It wasn't that the extent of damage was large.
However, only one photographer was hurt. If one cyclist and a bunch
of photographers were injured one could, perhaps, blame it on the
rider. When it is one cyclist and only one photographer one begins to
feel that the photographer doesn't have a very good chance of being
allowed to take pictures in Stage Four.
I avoided the ticket taker at lunch and again at dinner. Swerving,
ducking, and pretending was really starting to get on my nerves. You
only get food tickets for the hotel you are staying in. And I'm not
staying in the #1 hotel. The food at the #2 hotel is perfectly good.
The problem arises in that the #2 hotel is in another location and I'm
in the secretariat. I (as well as a few of the others I work with who
are also ducking the ticket taker) flat out refuse to leave the #1
hotel to go to lunch, come back to the #1 hotel to go to work, leave
the #1 hotel to go to dinner, come back to the #1 hotel to go to work
and leave the #1 hotel to go to sleep. It's ridiculous. So we cadge
tickets, pretend to have forgotten them, or just brazenly walk in
while ignoring the hotel ticket taker.
-M
|
| | |
Date: 08 Nov 2007 08:08:23
From: Ryan Cousineau
Subject: Re: Mass Chaos and Confusion TdH Stage Three
|
In article <1194356671.990110.190380@q3g2000prf.googlegroups.com >,
"marian.rosenberg@gmail.com" <marian.rosenberg@gmail.com > wrote:
These entries are great! But I am curious as to what (to the extent you
are willing to say) is the cause of the com-car omerta you describe. Is
it a case of conversations like "oh, there's rider X, that's a rather
dubious-looking bottle pass/caravan drafting move he pulling, but he
just had a flat, so we're not going to record that one"?
> At the breakfast buffet I ran into Wang. He wanted to let me know
> that he had decided that I would be allowed to talk on the radio in
> Chinese but if he heard me talk on the radio in English I would be
> permanently out of the race.
> Lots of crashes near the end of the stage which seems strange
> because it isn't an especially dangerous stretch of road. Last year
> saw a lot of crashes in the same place. It must be haunted or
> something.
Riders at all levels need no reason to crash. I sometimes think that
obviously dangerous sections cause riders to compensate aggressively,
thus being less prone to crashing there, while the ordinary
"just-riding-along" parts of the course are where riders will be in
tight quarters, not worrying about falling down, and that's when two
guys in the middle of the pack hook bars and pull each other down.
> The most serious crash almost certain was the one that came after
> the finish line. It wasn't that the extent of damage was large.
> However, only one photographer was hurt. If one cyclist and a bunch
> of photographers were injured one could, perhaps, blame it on the
> rider. When it is one cyclist and only one photographer one begins to
> feel that the photographer doesn't have a very good chance of being
> allowed to take pictures in Stage Four.
There's a very well-defined UCI protocol for photographer positioning at
the finish line. Faint memory suggest it involves a diagonal line that
starts at least 15m from the finish, and photographers standing behind
that. It's likely the photographer was either illegally positioned, or
the rider just crashed into him regardless.
--
Ryan Cousineau rcousine@sfu.ca http://www.wiredcola.com/
"My scenarios may give the impression I could be an excellent crook.
Not true - I am a talented lawyer." - Sandy in rec.bicycles.racing
|
| |
Date: 06 Nov 2007 10:50:39
From: marian.rosenberg@gmail.com
Subject: Re: Mass Chaos and Confusion TdH Stage Two
|
The morning started with a phone call from Wei Wei. They were about
ready to drive over to the other hotel. Did I want to come with?
I was still asleep.
They waited while I very quickly got dressed and repacked my
luggage.
I'd just gotten to the main hotel when Com 3's driver called me.
Where was I? I was about to get in the Secretariat car and leave.
"No no no no no," he says, "you are in the car with me. You are
translating for Com 3." "But Wang says I have to..." he cut me off
"it doesn't matter what Wang says. The international commissaire says
is what matters."
This was so not a situation I wanted to find myself in. But, Wang
wasn't actually present and the other people from the Secretariat all
thought that it was reasonable for me to go so they got in their car
and left without me.
At the start line I was met by Wang. What are you doing here?
Aren't you supposed to have left already? Com 3 told me I was riding
in his car again today. But I told you you were leaving early. Yes,
but the com told me that I was riding in his car again today. I
walked away before he could continue the argument.
Later he came by again wanting to make sure I knew that anything
that happened in the Com Car must stay in the Com Car and could not be
spoken about. I knew this. Of course I knew this. It was very
clearly told to me in my native language by other native speakers
before I even got in the car in the first place.
I knew this.
I told him I knew this.
If I knew this why was I talking about what happened in the Com Car
with other people.
I wasn't talking about what happened in the Com Car with other
people.
He'd heard that I was talking to people about what happened in the
car.
I wasn't talking about what happened in the Com Car with other
people.
He said I wasn't allowed to talk about what happened in the Com Car
with other people.
I told him this was fine because I hadn't talked about what happened
in the Com Car with other people.
The Chinese translator for the Georgian team told him I was talking
about what happened in the Com Car.
I didn't talk about what happened in the Com Car with the translator
for the Georgian team. While the two of us were looking at the
results sheet together he asked why Georgia was mentioned twice in the
cash penalties and I explained to him how to read the stage results.
Well you shouldn't talk about what happens in the Com Car with other
people.
But I did not talk about what happened in the Com Car. I knew not
to talk about what happened in the Com Car. I only talked about how
to read results when the results were in front of me and the person I
was talking with.
As he left he reminded me that I wasn't allowed to talk about what
happened in the Com Car with other people and that if he heard I had
been talking about what happened in the Com Car with other people
again he wouldn't let me ride there any more.
Despite this taking place mostly in Chinese I got the feeling that
he hadn't listened to a word I said.
Some twenty minutes later he saw me talking with two guys from
CCTV. They didn't have their camera with them. As soon as they left
he ran over to me and scolded me.
Most of the time I really like Wang. He's a really nice guy. But
when he's under pressure he's a royal pain in the ass. He'd somehow
managed to remember that he'd been told that Marian was not supposed
to be on TV this year but had managed to forget that Marian was the
one who told him that Marian did not like being on TV and did not want
to be on TV this year so when he saw Marian talking with people from
one of the TV stations he came over and yelled at Marian about how she
wasn't supposed to be on TV.
I know not to talk about what happens in the Com Car with other
people so you won't read about that here. None of it. Since I wasn't
as nervous as I had been the day before it was even more fun.
I got to get on the radio a couple of times. Mostly on the private
radio but twice I was told to go on the public radio. I was really
nervous and stuttered syllables, words, and once an entire sentence
but no one seemed to be especially bothered by it. The one time on
public broadcast when I really got flustered the Radio Tour came on
afterwards and told me that I didn't need to repeat myself so many
times but he sounded friendly.
Some two hours after the last time I was on the public radio when I
got a phone call from Wang telling me that I wasn't allowed to be on
the radio and that if he heard me on the radio again I wouldn't be
allowed to ride in the Com Car. I said that I was Com 3's translator
riding in Com 3's car and Com 3 had instructed me to use Com 3's radio
and it wasn't any of his business. He told me I wasn't allowed to use
the radio. I started to say that it was Com 3's car and Com 3's radio
and Com 3 who had told me to use the radio but he hung up on me in the
middle of the sentence.
I called him back and let him talk to Com 3. Com 3 told him that I
was Com 3's translator riding in Com 3's car and if Com 3 told Com 3's
translator in Com 3's car to use Com 3's radio it was Com 3's business
and that Wang had no say in the matter. This was repeated three or
four times to the extent that I got the feeling Wang wasn't listening
until eventually Com 3 hung up.
The main hotel was Waika International in Wenchang. They have pain
au chocolat. Bittersweet chocolate in flaky croissant pastry. I've
had worse in real cities like Hong Kong. I've had worse in the US. I
ate dinner with some guys from Intel Action who I had met at the Tour
of Qinghai and they wanted to know if, as a local, I was going to find
a disco to take the whole race to on the last night. Apparently since
this is the Tour's first year out of Sanya and most of the other
people involved with the race had come down from Haikou they had
somehow determined that it was my responsibility to find a good disco
and they were going to tell all of the other cyclists who they were
friends with that it was my responsibility to find a good disco.
I promptly sent a text message to a DJ I know asking what club in
Sanya would be especially good for having an extra 120 people show up.
After dinner I was sitting in the Secretariat with a bunch of others
including Frank and Wei Wei when the International Commissaires all
showed up. The Chief Com had sugar packets. The Radio Tour was
carrying cups. The Technical Advisor from Australia had a glass of
milk. And they wanted to know where the coffee was.
I made coffee for a while. Two rounds for the coms and also some
for the secretary of the Taiwan Cycling Federation and his wife.
Coffee is definitely a good way to make friends.
While I was making coffee Wang approached the Chief Com about the
radio. I wasn't authorized to use the radio. Why had I been using
the radio. The Chief Com explained that I was riding in Com 3's car
as Com 3's translator and if Com 3 instructed Com 3's translator to
use Com 3's radio while riding in Com 3's car it was Com 3's business
and had nothing to do with Wang.
Having already not listened to me or Com 3 he also didn't listen to
the Chief Com because the radio discussion would continue well into
Stage Three.
I was, again, staying at the #2 hotel which, in this case, was
actually nicer than the #1 hotel with the exception of being 25
kilometers away from the finish instead of across the street. If
anything my hotel room was bigger than it had been the night before
and it also had feather pillows. No mineral hot spring water in the
bathtub though. There is definitely an advantage to being sponsored
by a resort chain.
-M
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Date: 06 Nov 2007 09:42:22
From: marian.rosenberg@gmail.com
Subject: Re: Mass Chaos and Confusion TdH Stage One
|
Having confirmed that my cat was going to be watched by a coworker I
was awake and out the door of my apartment by 7:30am. I rarely choose
to wake up much before 9am but today was important.
I bought breakfast on my way to the starting line and was already well
inside the closed to traffic area when I got a telephone call. Where
was I? Only it wasn't from the driver of Com 3's car. It was from
Com 3. And Yokota-san didn't merely not know where I was, he also
didn't know where his driver was. Or how to get to the starting line
for that matter.
I seemed to recall something about having written a very very detailed
set of instructions the night before about how to get to the starting
line just in case any of the team vehicles got seperated from the
parade convoy from the resort to the opening. After some two hours
effort on the part of four or five different people to produce an
acceptable map along with a bilingual set of directions with a format
cribbed out of the technical guide complete with every junction and
landmarks along the way someone came to the conclusion that actually
telling people how to get to the opening line might give them ideas
about not joining the parade convoy to the opening line so they didn't
print it after all.
When I managed to get out of the controlled area and catch a moto to
the closest intersection with the beach road the idea was that Com 3
was going to drive himself until he saw me and pick me up. However he
somehow became absorbed by the parade convoy so things went a bit
slower and I had ample time to notice a new Fushan Coffee restaurant
across the street, go in, and buy a half kilo of beans for the race
(thus alleviating the need for borrowing my boss's stale Starbucks).
Once at the starting line I accompanied him and tried my best to be a
helpful translator. I'm getting lots of practice at live translation
this way. I only wish I were more comfortable with my live
translation skills. No one seems to be complaining (yet) but I'm
happier with people who speak one sentence, wait for translation, and
then speak the next, and happiest with print.
At one point as I walked back and forth with Com 3 I accidentally
kicked the Director of Athletic Events Department of the Sanya City
Bureau of Culture, Radio and Television, Publishing and Sport in the
ankle. I say 'accidentally' because I had meant to kick him in the
ankle -and- elbow him in the ribs but only succedeed in getting his
ankle. I got him good and hard. He gave a muffled yelp and looked
startled but because I was personally accompanying Yokota-san didn't
dare say anything.
A week previous he had claimed that a month previous at the Sanya City
Circuit Race there not only was a lap board but that he had personally
informed me at the finish line that I was short a lap. Apparently
because I was so dehydrated that I had to get on the ambulance I had
also been confused and had forgotten speaking to him. Apparently
confusion caused by dehydration is virulently contagious because none
of the people who were with me at the finish line saw him either. And
none of the people I have talked to who were at the race as
competitors or spectators managed to see the lap board.
I was told that one of the main conditions of getting the opportunity
to ride in the Com car is that 'what happens in the Com car stays in
the Com car" so I won't write anything about that.
It was really cool though. I even got to get on the radio.
After the stage was over I was on my way out of the #1 Dining Hall
when I saw most of the
Commissaires sitting together eating. "And do you have the promised
coffee with you today" I was asked.
Indeed, I did. In fact, since I'd just gotten my luggage out of the
car it was in, I had my coffee maker with me there in the dining hall.
I went and got my bag. I opened my bag. First I pulled out the bag
of coffee beans. They nodded. Then I pulled out the coffee grinder.
More nods. Then I pulled out the coffee maker. "Okay," one of them
said, "the Commissaire's Panel have made the decision that you can sit
in Com 3's car again tomorrow." Then I pulled out the bottle of
single malt scotch whiskey. "Okay," another one of them said, "the
Commissaire's Panel has now made the decision that you can sit in Com
2's car tomorrow."
That evening, however, when the Secretariat was having a meeting, Wang
told me that I absolutely had to leave at 8:30 with the staff vehicle
to go ahead and set up computers. I said that the comissaires told me
to ride in the com car. He said it didn't matter. My position was
with the Secretariat. But if I'm not riding in Com 3's car, who will
be his translator? Not our responsibility I was told. I must leave
at 8:30 in the morning.
Wang seemed to think that 'giving in to my demands' that I be allowed
to see just one stage was plenty enough. And besides which, he was in
the police car at the front in Stage One and didn't even get Race
Radio.
Wang is perhaps last on the list of those who I would expect to hear
complaints about not having the opportunity to hear Race Radio. He
doesn't especially like cycling. It isn't that he dislikes it per se
and since he started with the Tour the bike club has even convinced
him to buy a bicycle of his own but he only works for the bike race
because he was told to work for the bike race. And because of his
English skills and the very good job he did for last year's Tour he's
earned himself a job in the cycling department at the 2008 Games.
But, so far as I can tell, he doesn't really enjoy it and he certainly
doesn't love it.
I decided arguing with him just wasn't worth the headache. At least I
got to see the racing once and there was a very good chance that the
combined factors of there not being a translator specifically assigned
to Com 3 and Yokota-san's saying he'd like me to come back again meant
that I'd probably be back in the car by Stage 3.
Some time later Ulzii-Orshikh Jamsran from the Mongolian Cycling
Federation was there to pick up the day's results to give to his team.
He noticed one of my coworkers, Wei Wei, drinking a cup of coffee.
"Where did we get coffee from?" he asked.
"From my coffee maker," I replied.
"What coffee were we making?" he asked.
I showed him the bag of Starbucks that was what Wei Wei was drinking.
"This is coffee beans. How did we make this into coffee?" he asked.
"With my coffee grinder." I replied.
"You have a coffee grinder?" he asked.
"Yes," and I pointed.
"I'll be right back," he said and ran out of the room.
He did not come back.
Instead, about twenty minutes later, two very tall very handsome
Mongolians with very little English showed up at the Secretariat.
"You. Girl. Coffee. Yes."
A bag of coffee beans was displayed.
Gestures were made.
"Coffee. Yes."
I got the coffee grinder.
I offered them the coffee grinder.
"No. No. You. You. Coffee. Yes."
"Me. Coffee. Yes."
"Yes. Coffee. Good. Yes."
They opened the bag of coffee.
I plugged the coffee grinder in.
They grinned really big. "Coffee. Girl. Thank you girl. Coffee.
Yes."
I turned the coffee grinder on.
If anything the grins got even bigger.
It isn't an especially big coffee grinder and it took four or five
rounds before all of the coffee was ground.
"Thank you girl. Thank you. Coffee. Yes."
Then they left me with a coffee grinder full of really oily and
wonderfully pungent dark coffee beans as a thank you gift.
And with that I decided that in the future I will always make sure to
bring a coffee maker with me to races. It's a good way to make
friends.
At a bit past 10 o'clock Wei Wei and I headed off to the number 2
hotel. Since this year's sponsors include the HNA International
Resorts Hotel Management Chain (a brand which I suspect only exists in
Southeast Asia and possibly only in China or even only Hainan but
which are quite nice) the main hotel is tending towards excessively
nice while the number 2 hotel is merely really really nice.
I've had apartments smaller than my hotel room was that evening.
Without nearly as nice furniture, or as a nice a view, or as big a
balcony, or a bathtub that has water straight from mineral hot
springs. I made
myself a bubble bath and with frequent refreshing of the water soaked
until nearly midnight.
-M
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Date: 08 Nov 2007 00:06:02
From: Tom Sherman
Subject: Re: Mass Chaos and Confusion TdH Stage One
|
marian.rosenberg@gmail.com aka Marian Rosenberg wrote:
> ...
> At one point as I walked back and forth with Com 3 I accidentally
> kicked the Director of Athletic Events Department of the Sanya City
> Bureau of Culture, Radio and Television, Publishing and Sport in the
> ankle. I say 'accidentally' because I had meant to kick him in the
> ankle -and- elbow him in the ribs but only succedeed in getting his
> ankle. I got him good and hard. He gave a muffled yelp and looked
> startled but because I was personally accompanying Yokota-san didn't
> dare say anything....
Don't mess with Mountain Rose!
--
Tom Sherman - Holstein-Friesland Bovinia
Tradition is the worst rational for action.
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