O1 – Quiet Time

On return from Seattle this Superbowl Sunday:  the traffic light, the border quick, the city gray and quiet.  After three days away, I’m interested to see if there’s been much change – what routes are blocked, what new faces and languages are in the crowds.

But along the seawall, it’s hard to discern whether the world is arriving, so normal is the mix of race and language.  Radical multiculturalism, writer William Gibson calls it.  Ah, there’s someone with credentials on a string, there’s a small group of guides in bright-blue (best colour in the Vanoc palette so far, which with the graphics has little eye-grabbing interest. Design-wise, the Games so far are disappointing. )

It’s warm.  Not news – but the colour of the light seems spring-like, perfect for accenting the highrise towers against a softly lit backdrop.

Without the rain, the weather is fine for rambling and cycling, which is what downtown dwellers are doing, without competition from those who would normally drive in to walk the seawall.  Vancouverities seem to be taking quickly to the idea that they won’t be getting around in cars.  Once again we see the pattern: chaos predicted, actual conditions calm.   Like the Burrard Bridge scenario.

The City is asking us to “Paint the Town Red.”  At least that’s what it says on the bookmark I picked up at the local library branch.  A bookmark – yes, that’s how the City is generating excitement.  Not sure whether that reaches the target market – but so far, not many spontaneous signs of Canadian pride.  Which is, of course, Canadian sensibility.

But this building in False Creek North got it together:

The sky is as gray as the water in which the Athletes Village is reflected – the image that begins the New York Times Magazine coverage of the Winter Olympics.  Like a formal invitation. 

This one written by Michael Ignatieff:

If you’re not trying to demonstrate raw power or announce your arrival on the global stage, however, hosting the Games presents a challenge. We Canadians are immensely proud of our country, but we try to be soft-spoken about it, so we aren’t looking for the Vancouver Games to be a grandiose exercise in self-promotion. Instead, we want to demonstrate that we’re a people the world can count on. We’re proud that we brought in the Games on time and on budget. The venues are ready. Apart from some nail-biting about whether there will be enough real snow for the low-altitude venues, there have been no last-minute panics. The Olympics let us tell the world: Ask us to do a job, and we get it done right.

Yes, all seems calm at the moment from the seat of my bike circling around the peninsula.  And then I see some Russian athletes, hockey perhaps, or bob-sled, from the size of these guys.  A wave, a nod.  

And that moment of connection, with real people, real athletes – that’s, as promised, a moment of excitement.