Yu Zhou: A Bao Blog

I am new on blog. So forgive me if what I said does not make sense.

I was in Beijing during the Olympics and I found that it was rather  interesting how controversies played out in different ways in the Chinese and western contexts. Take the famous case of fake singing of that little girl in the Olympic opening ceremony.  Many Chinese were upset. After all, the sight and song were so perfect.  People felt betrayed when the perfection proved to be an illusion.

Most reporting and commenting in the western press suggested that the highest level of Chinese government (someone in the polibureau) objected the apparence of the real 7 year old singer, so the pretty girl is standing in her place. But if you read the NY Time’s story  which includes the direct translation of the transcript of the Music director, Chen Qigang, this is not the case at all. Chen said that in a meeting including polibureau members, they heard the recording of the pretty 9 years old and decided that the singer has to change.  So in fact, what the leader objected was the singing of the pretty girl, not the look of the 7 years old.  They did not even see the 7 years old according to the report!  Frankly I find this intervention of singing perfectly reasonable since this is a very familiar song for most Chines. If one sings it out of key, you can imagine the discomfort of many people. 

But what Chen did not tell us is who made the decision to use the song of 7 year old and the performance of 9 year old.  Here the guesses differ in China and in the west.  In the west, the fake is universially blamed on the Chinese government–they even determine whether one child is cute or not, how aweful! But there is almost no evidence to support this version.  In China,  people found the most logical person to blame is the director Zhang Yimou. After all, he is the movie director and he is credited for discovering several China’s prettest female performers.  A pretty face, to him, is paramount.  Besides, he already disqualified a 10 year old for looking “too old.” So between the demand of changing of the singer and the demand of a perfect cute performer, Chen did what he had to do.    

But if it is Zhang Yimou made the decision which in all likelihood he did, it won’t be a story. After all, such practices are routine in Hollywood.  The only way to spin this into a sensational story is to substitute Zhang Yimou with the Chinese government. That was exactly most western media did.

Seven years ago in the spring of 2001, I was on sabbatical in Beijing. For a few weeks, I found the city visibly anxious for an inspection of International Olympic Committee to check Beijing as a potential host for the 2008 Summer Olympics. The street was cleaned and linked up with flowers. Residents were instructed to be friendly, at least for a few days. The local school my 7 year old attended held an event to celebrate Olympics and invited parents. It was then my son pleaded: “Mom, can we come back to Beijing in 2008?” “Most definitely,” I answered. It was a promise I made for my son and a promise Beijing made to the world.
I had grown up Beijing and only left it in my 20s. Outsiders associate Beijing with monuments such as Tiananmen Square, Greatwall, and the Forbidden City. I know the city as a place for family and friends with distinct neighborhoods and vibrant universities. Beijing not only has China’s most intellectuals, its ordinary citizens are also famous for being the most outspoken and humorous. Living in a city serving as national capital for some 800 years, Beijingers have a keen sense of ownership of history and politics. They took pride in talking about international affairs as if it happen next door and ancient history as if it was yesterday. In a way, there is no better Chinese city to host the Olympics since the city’s residents are never shy from the spot light of monumental history. Yet for all of its rich heritage, Beijing is also known for not paying much attention to its appearance. The city is dusty, polluted and chaotic, with too many cars and full of ugly buildings hastily built in the 80s and 90s to house its huge population with little aesthetic consideration.
But that was in 2001. Since then, the extreme make over of Beijing happened at a breath- taking pace. Everyday, old neighborhoods and farm field disappeared, replaced by highways, parks, glittering high rises and the huge stadiums. The city literally changed its color as the old cracking buses and taxi are replaced by shining new fleet and dreary buildings got exterior paint. And then, Pang! It is all done! Three new subways lines, a futuristic airport, and a new train station with the world fastest train all opened for business in the summer of 2008. Olympic is here. I stepped into a Beijing hardly recognizable even from a year ago.
I quickly learned that Olympics meant two things to locals—security checks and colossal inconvenience. Starting from late July, there was a sharp increase of security personnel on the streets. Policy motorcycles zoomed through streets, and helicopters were in the air. None of these was familiar to the residents. In fact, the only recent memory of this level of security was in 1989, immediately after the Tiananmen Square crack down on June 4th. Those were the darkest days in Beijing. Fear and hostility permeated the streets. Residents, shocked by the bloodshed, cursed and attacked the soldiers. Nothing like that was felt this time. The police were mostly polite and professional. The residents, trading rumors of potential terrorism, were largely curious and a bit nervous. Their biggest complaint, however, was the traffic. Many streets or lanes were closed. Half of the city cars were removed from the streets since driver could only drive on odd or even days depending on their plate. Beijing’s newly expanded subway/bus system bulged at the seam to move the city of 17 millions around. Only the youthful volunteers everywhere with their unfailing energy and smile seemed to brighten up the city.
If you ask the residents their honest opinion before the Olympics, they would tell you they want it be over so they could get on with their lives. But as soon as the game started with the spectacular opening, that sentiment evaporated as people were instantly awed and captivated by the human drama unfolded before their eyes. I took kids to Bird’s nest, Water cube, and a few smaller stadiums scattered around the city. The magic were in the air, fans from all over the world mixed. Brazilians danced, Americans paraded, Europeans shouted, Koreans chanted with synchronized moves, and they were sometimes joined or overwhelmed by thunderous Chinese cheers. I didn’t have tickets to Michael Phelps or Usain Bolt in his final, but got to cheer with others for two Iraq rowers who finished last, and a Taiwanese badminton player bravely saved her ball against a hopelessly superior Chinese player. Here the foreign athletes and fans are no longer creatures from different planets, but people with too human delight and anguish. Chinese fans used to show little interest to sports without Chinese participation. But I saw Bird’s Nest filled to its capacity for track/field preliminaries with few Chinese qualified. The fans also used to humiliate those Chinese athletes failed their expectations, this time they supported them even when their star hurdler Liu Xiang dropped out of the race. Only a few years ago, many Chinese viewed overseas Chinese coaches for other national teams as traitors. Today, audience cheered for US Women’s Volleyball team led by a Chinese coach all the way to the silver metal even when it defeated the Chinese national team.
People often make a big fuss about the Olympics legacy. The truth is that the two week game will not change China’s political system, nor will it change western reactions to it. But here in Beijing, what I saw were not just the spectacular games, but also the growth of a population who are learning to receive the world with confidence, openness and tolerance.