Volunteering: Feb. 24 - Norge, how Swede it is

Day 13 of the 2010 Vancouver Games

Today had to have been one of the most amusing and entertaining days at the Whistler Olympic Park venue for me. And this is despite the terrible weather that finally blew into Callahan Valley after weeks of clear blue skies and an amazing sun.

Today, the skies opened up above us and began depositing big, fat, wet snowflakes on the entire park in the morning, despite the warm air. Though it was better than the rain that was pelting the Whistler Village area further below, it still made for some interesting conditions for the athletes of Nordic Combined who were scheduled to train that day at the ski jumping venue that morning.

In that everything condensed into fog by about 10 AM that morning.

We only had around 15 jumpers of a field close to 50 willing to brave the difficult conditions of wet and sticky snow and low visibility to complete their three training jumps today, including the lone Canadian in the event. Most of them swore off the work, and to be frank, I don't blame them. And as a result, so did most of the reporters, who opted to stay indoors for the day. There were a few exceptions to the press' presence at the venue, mostly of the Japanese media variety who therefore got extra special attention because they really were the only ones out there.

And when I say "extra special", I mean they got to go to the area right in front of the athlete's gate normally reserved for coaches only to speak with their Japanese athletes.

I have to say, I really do admire the Japanese's passion for the sport of ski jumping.

The low number of athletes and media present did result in a very early ending to the training session that we were supposed to oversee until closer to noon. It left us with a lot of free time as a result, and we weren't the only ones that now had little to do at the venue. The people of Olympic Broadcasting Services was left with a derth of time rarely given to us during these Olympics.

So what did we do with this extra time? We built a snow-family in the spectator area of the venue, proving to all the world that we spend our time wisely and with maturity befitting of Olympic volunteers.

After lunch, we were deployed at the Cross Country venue, where the men's 4x10 KM relay medal event was in full swing in front of a large, vibrant crowd that included the King of Sweden and Norway, respectively. Not that we ever got a clear vision of either from the press mix zone and press areas to which we managed accordingly, as we do at any venue as we waited for the first team to cross the finish line.

Sweden won the race by a near country mile, slaughtering its competition to the point that the final skiier had time to grab a Swedish flag from a spectator in his final 100 metres and almost waddle to the finish line, flag proudly in hand. Next came the Norweigians 15 seconds later, shaving off 20 seconds of their time in that final cross-country lap to finish with the bronze medal. The Czech Republic, who had led for most of this race, would pull in for bronze.

Because there are four men to a team in this race, it required two volunteers to escort them to the press conference following the flower ceremony. I was assigned with venue manager Mike to the gold-medal Swedes, who if you ask me, physically encompassed everything that is good about the country. Were they gorgeous looking? Absolutely!

And they were practically bursting at the seams after their triumphant victory in front of their King, who was practically bursting with pride himself for his team and decked out head to toe in Sweden's athletic uniform when he personally congratulated them after the event, standing about a foot away from me as he spoke of his pride for his countrymen.

Personally, I couldn't figure out where the athletes got all that energy from after skiing a 10KM race each.

One guy ran off into the spectator zone after their 45 minute trek through the broadcasting mix zone to say hello to his parents, who had been watching in the stands. Another guy kept stopping for pretty much everyone who said hello to him. In the end, I had to go racing after one of the guys that was heading to the wax tents while Mike kept an eye on the remaining three Swedes, telling me he'd meet me there.

Finally Mike managed to pull the rest of the team away from the media and to the tent, which was really a trailer, to prepare for the press conference. It was interesting watching the athletes from so deep in the athlete's corridor, as the German team came by to congratulate them, as well as the rest of the Swedish managerial crew that made the win possible for them.

When they were finally ready to go, Mike said that I was to march in front while he'd come up from the rear. It sounded easy enough until one of the two I was watching got stopped along the way, and fell behind as one of the Swedish press attaches and athlete kept walking. I ended up running back and forth a bit to make sure they were still following me. Thank God though that when they realized they had pulled ahead of one of their friends, they stopped and waited for each other.

As we walked down to the press conference area, I managed to congratulate one of the Swedish athletes - I believe it was the guy in the red bib, Daniel Richardsson - on winning. He gave me a typical athlete's response, that it was an honour and great to see all their hard work from over the years pay off.

The gold-medal winning Swedish team. Credits: Getty Images

I then asked him what was it like up on that podium. He grinned and answered that he thinks he's looking forward to the victory ceremony that evening when they'd get their medals and watch the flag get raised to the Swedish national anthem. "Well, is there a lot of Swedes at Whistler?" I asked, to which he said there were. "Well, then perhaps you'll hear people sing that anthem as well," I replied, thinking about how Canadians always sing O Canada when that song is played at medal ceremonies.

"We'll probably sing along with them," answered the Swede, his pretty face flashing a smile.

"You guys good singers?" I asked innocently.

"Yeah, we're like a boys choir!" he replied.

I choked back a laugh and flashed a quick glance at his face to see if he was joking. It was hard to tell though, given that I've only really spoken to him for all of two minutes now and at that point had no idea what his name was anyway. Hoping not to offend him, I said, "Well, not quite as soprano as a boy's choir."

"No, we actually sing pretty high!" he assured me, this time with what I was sure was a mischevious grin on his face.

I decided better against continuing the conversation. For one, we were almost at the press conference venue. For another, several "enuch" jokes were repeating itself in my head, jokes that I decided was better left to myself.

I thought I had heard my quote of the Games there. But then the press conference started, and the Norweigians completely stole the show.

Here's a bit of back-story with regards to that race. For one, the Men's Cross-Country 4x10km Pursuit is an event where countries are represented by four athletes. Each individual skier takes turns skiing a 10km lap of the course, exchanging at the 10km starting line.

When Norway made their first exchange, the Norweigians were only 4 seconds behind the leader. By the time they made their final exchange, the Norweigians were a whopping 37 seconds behind the Swedes and in 5th place. Only the tremendous skiing of the world's top skiier in Petter Northug allowed for them to scrape together that silver medal by the end of it.

Much of this was because of a terrible lap by Odd-Bjoern Hjelmeset. He skiied second for his team, and his lap left them 34 seconds behind the leader when he made his exchange. Apparently, his skis were waxed incorrectly, that or he selected the wrong skis to race with. Either way, he was actually sliding backwards while trying to climb the hills in the race.

Hjelmset racing his lap in the snow. Photo credit: Getty Images

His wax technician, understandably, tried his level best to keep a low profile after the race. Apparently, he kept his head down, was quiet and walked slowly as he was being escorted with the Norweigian team down to the press conference room.

So when it came Hjelmset's turn to make comments about his race, he could have thrown the wax technician under the bus, and most of those in the press conference room likely was hoping for that as an answer. What they got was much better however.

"My name is Odd-Bjoern Hjelmeset," he said clearly. "I skied the second lap, and I fucked up today."

That momentarily stunned audience, as everyone stopped as if to say "Did he say what I thought he said?" before they all broke out in a fit of appreciative laughter.

A reporter later asked a follow-up question, regarding the reasons for his "fuck up," whether it was his body, equipment or mind.

His explanation?

"I think I have seen too much porn in the last 14 days. I have the room next to Petter and every day there is noise in there," he said to the roars of the peanut gallery. "So I think that is the reason I fucked up. By the way, Tiger Woods is a really good man."

The peels of laughter from everyone present indicated that this was perhaps the most interesting quote they've heard all Games.

I later learned that the Norweigian ski team's primary sponsor was in fact a porn company, which is what led to the joke in the press conference that day. Either way, I don't care, all I knew was that that was the story I'd be sharing about my experience at the Winter Games for years to come.

And have I ever mentioned before that I absolutely love Norweigians and Swedes?

The Story: Meeting the Ghana Ski Team

Day 13 of the 2010 Vancouver Games

To: Cammy

You'll pass the Swiss pavilion and a few feet later be surrounded by crazy Icelanders in goofy hats, or Norwegians in Viking caps. There's lots of Canada gear, of course, but it feels more international [than Vancouver]; with athletes in their national duds sprinkled heavily among the guys who've attached Canadian flags to hockey sticks. -- Jim Byers' Travel Blog

His name is Kwame Nkrumah-Acheampong, but to the international media and Canadians, he is called the Snow Leopard.

It was another long and tiring day of volunteering up at Whistler Olympic Park when myself, Arlene and her roomate and friend Kathleen decided to bunker down at a local restaurant for dinner together for a bit. Originally, the plan was to head to Earls - a beautifully furbished, but fairly expensive restaurant and bar in the heart of the Village. However, what we had failed to take into consideration was that tonight was the night of the big Canada-Russia men's ice hockey quarterfinal game.

It wasn't that we were unaware of the game. In fact, I had been bouncing off the walls in WOP for the entire day waiting for it, mainly because I got a good omen from my MP3 player that morning when it played the original "Hockey Night in Canada" theme song as well as "Saturday Night's Alright For Fighting" for me when I was on the bus.

What we failed to take into consideration really was that I wasn't the only one going crazy waiting for this game.

Arlene and Kathleen, for their part, are both Americans who understand the game and respects it, but as far as interest goes, has certainly not swallowed the sheer insanity that possesses most, if not all Canadians when their "hockey pride" is on the line.

We arrived at Earls to see a mostly empty restaurant, but a pretty big line. "Uh oh," said Kathleen with a frown. Lines anywhere is usually a bad omen, but especially when it involves a restaurant with television screens installed during these Winter Olympics. But we decided to ask the hostess anyway to see if there was any hope for us getting seated.

The hostess dropped on us that, in fact, the entire place was reserved out. She also told us with an apologetic smile that most of them were for the hockey game and would likely not get cleared out for the next three hours.

That was how we ended up eating at Ingrid's, which is this homey little sandwich shop close to La Bocca and the Whistler Square Stage. The place was busy and the store was a tight fit for all of us, but in the end, we got had snagged a table by the front window facing out into the Square so that we could get a respectable though largely obstructed view of the game on the Stage's giant screens.

And that was where we got to meet to Ghana Ski Team.

I didn't even notice them at first, so absorbed with the start of my beloved hockey game with my beloved home team. It actually took Arlene and Kathleen dragging me out of my obsession-induced stupour to notice the small group of similarly dressed people hanging flags from the patio of Ingrid's. "I wonder what they're doing?" muttered Kathleen loudly as we watched.
 
"Who are those guys?" I asked, mystified.
 
"They're the Ghana Ski Team," answered one of the cashiers. "They just came in and asked us if they could use our patio to try and sell some of their team merchandise," she answered with a smile. "We've kind of adopted them as our host nation. We're the Ghana House now."

"They're selling stuff outside?" said Arlene. "I wonder for how much?"

I turned back to the cashier, gesturing to the Ghana Ski Team hat that she was wearing. "Do you know how much is the stuff they're selling?" I asked.

"Nope," she answered with a shrug. "They gave the hats to us when we agreed to let them use our patio. I haven't a clue what their stuff actually cost though."

"Why not go outside and ask them?" Arlene suggested to me as she chewed her food thoughtfully. "I wouldn't mind finding out for myself anyway."

My curiosity was peaked, mostly because of the novelty of their involvement in the Winter Olympics. African countries are rare in Winter Games, mostly because of a severe lack in training facilities not to mention funding for these Games. So to have anyone come out of those countries is usually accompanied by a fantastic story of the human spirit. The fact that his team was selling merchandise outside simply increased my curiosity, as it meant that the majority of his journey to the Games was largely self-funded and self-raised, and that his monetary support was fairly precarious at best.

As the Jamaican Bobsled Team of Cool Runnings fame showed to us, it is often those of greatest adversary that gives us one of the most memorable memories of events such as these.

I recalled the day I went to the dress rehersal for the Opening Ceremonies when they announced Ghana as an official participant in the March of Nations. From my vantage point above, I wondered about who and how many people they had representing this African country and their chances at being successful.

As it turned out, only one person represented this country, and as luck would have it for me, he's an alpine skiier, which meant that he was stationed out in Whistler. I looked out at the small group of people, a girl and two guys standing under the umbrellas and beside the Ghana flag. They weren't busy and I had the sudden urge to buy something off of them. Canada gear will always be here when I wanted them, but how often can you say you bought official team gear from the Ghana Winter Olympic Team? Even if it was only being representing one guy.

And as cruel as this may sound, who's to say anyone would ever have that chance again?

I marched out purposefully, purse in hand and stopped at the table. Everyone there turned to look at me. I flashed a smile and said, "Hi, I was wondering how much you're selling your stuff for."

Smiles lifted all their faces as they welcomed me openly. Their t-shirts were 20 dollars, and their hats were 15 dollars. They were unfortunately out of small sized t-shirts but the shirt sizes are actually quite small anyway and within reason you could get away with a medium sized t-shirt. I hem and hawed over the size as they assured me that there should be no problem. When I finally decided that I can deal with the size, I grinned and handed them a 20 dollar bill for the t-shirt, thanking them for the fabulous souvenir. However, they seemed more thankful to me for allowing myself to purchase their merchandise.

The purchase gave me the chance to speak with the Team Leader/Press Attache/Manager of Kwame's, Richard Harpham, an energetic gentleman who is also an enthusiastic kayaker as far as I can tell. I told him that I wanted to make the purchase because having an athlete represent Ghana at the Winter Olympics was truly a unique event and I wished to be able to commemorate it myself. He smiled and told me that this was the first time Ghana had ever qualified for the Winter Olympics and that Kwame was truly a special person to have made it this far.

I asked Harpham what my purchase was going to go towards with the ski team. He said it was to help fund his trip here as well as future projects after the Olympics. I asked if he had trouble funding the trip to Vancouver, hence this selling of t-shirts. He explained that Kwame was fortunate enough to have many kind and generous supporters and sponsors that helped him make this trip to Vancouver possible. Two homes for Kwame and his team was donated to him, and everyone that works for him were volunteers, people who gave up their day jobs to help him achieve his dream of representing Ghana at the Vancouver 2010 Winter Olympics.

However, as with all things, there is never quite enough money to do and get all that you want to get. And with very little (supposedly none) support from the Ghana Sports Committee themselves, he did have some difficulties. But in the end, the important thing is that he made it to Vancouver and he hopes to give Ghana something to look forward to and strive towards.

As we spoke about their team's goals for these Olympics, while not lofty, but still full of hope, and the journey that got Kwame to the pinnacle of international competition, I got the sense of a man who is living for the moment, but is doing his upmost to share the experience as well. He is a man that is here to leave a legacy, epitomized by the words that Kwame told his team before marching in front of over 1 billion people during the Opening Ceremonies - a team that has sacrificed so much to help him reach his dreams.

"Spartans, are you ready? This is OUR time!"

"Honestly, it wasn't until I was halfway around the stadium did it really hit me that I just walked out in front 1.3 billion people," said Harpham with a huge grin as he recalled the memory. "Unfortunately, I had my camera up and filming for most of it so I decided that come the Closing Ceremonies, I'd enjoy myself a little more."

When I returned back inside Ingrids to pass along the price of the merchandise to my waiting friends, they asked what I was talking about with him. I said that I was asking about the funding. By then, I had decided that I was going to buy one more thing from this group of dreamers and trail-blazers. I was going to buy a hat, and gift it to my friend Jessica, who has always shown a great love for the underdog. Because that is what the Snow Leopard is.

But regardless of that, he has already beaten one odd, and that was to reach the Vancouver Olympic Games.

Arlene would end up buying a Ghana Ski Team pin while Kathleen would also buy a t-shirt. The hockey game was already underway by then, and the square roared three times as Canada scored three quick ones in the game. Harphem would roar along with me in support of Canada, a happy expression on his face as he took in the Canadian obsession. As we parted ways, he told me that he loved Canada and their kindness and spirit. He said the land was unlike any other in its beauty and the people are among the most generous he has had the pleasure of meeting.

I shook his hand as I left to a hearty cheer by a small group of Russians as Russia scored their first on Roberto Luongo. I wished him and Kwame the best of luck in their event. And I thanked him for the unforgettable stories.

As much as the Games are about the competitions, it is also about the unfailing example given to us by those athletes who gave everything they got to be able to open new possibilities for others to follow. The true example of the human spirit has and will always be one of the most fulfilling experiences of my Winter Olympic experience.

Cheers!

Grace

The Story: A tale of red mittens

Day 11 of the 2010 Vancouver Games

To: Jessica

I did a good deed today.

I've had a pair of those red Olympic mittens since the end of November 2009. My mother worked at a Zellers, and has a fairly bad habit of buying into popular fads. These cute-sy, red mittens had been selling like hot-cakes at her store in Scarborough. And at an extremely affordable ten dollars, this was an easy gift option for shoppers.

She's always been aware of my pride as a Canadian, and has long known my intention to volunteer at the Olympics in Vancouver. So when the second shipment came in, she snagged a pair of small adult red mittens for me, with the intention of me using them in Vancouver.

I love Olympic paraphernalia and am the proud owner of a t-shirt, toque, sweater and scarf, all blazing red. So to get these mitts were a great addition to my growing collection of red pride. And they were fantastic. So much so, that I wasn't even willing to wait to use them in Vancouver. I properly wore them for the first time back when the Olympic Torch made its way into Toronto on a cold December evening. It shocked me how warm they were for a pair of knit mitts as I waved them proudly as the torch ran past me. It also shocked me how many people shared my love for them.

But my continued use of those lovely mittens took its tole on them as they began to take on a worn appearance. The greatest majority of the damage in fact came while doing one of the most Canadian of all things; filming a minor league hockey tournament in Etobicoke for RogersTV over the winter break.

The leaf on the palms were no longer so white, and the wool was no longer so crisp. And as January rolled around, my mother took one look at my now much loved, but much abused mittens and dismayed. They looked so ratty and old now, she pouted. How could I have managed to have worked them into such poor shape?

So the following day she came home with a second pair, and told me not to wear them until I arrived in Vancouver. Dutifully, I put them aside before packing them into my suitcase to Whistler.

I wore the new ones once. Maybe it was because I brought my old, ratty mittens with me to Vancouver as well and I simply felt more inclined to wear those. Perhaps it was me wishing to keep the second pair from getting dirty. Either way, I don't know why I'd use them as infrequently as I did. I only know that they sat at the bottom of my backpack for days.

Arlene is a Californian school teacher and fellow press assistant at Whistler Olympic Park. She's also my "bus buddy" most days from the venue. Today, she told me in the bus on the way back to Whistler from the Park that it looked like she wouldn't be able to get a pair of those nice red mittens everyone loves. I turned to her, curious, and asked her if she wanted a pair.

She did. Apparently, a friend of hers told her that she had to come back with a pair. "They said that they're the hottest things and that I had to get a pair!" she told me. "Oprah apparently had them on her show last week."

Now that caught my attention. "Oprah?" I exclaimed. "Oprah mentioned those red mittens?"

"Yeah! Apparently she totally loves them and said they are the "it" items of the Vancouver Olympics," was the response.

I may not be into day-time television talk shows, but I'm not so dense as to not know that when Oprah says good things about anything, they suddenly become blockbusters for the next five months. Oprah promoting those mittens on her show is paramount to winning a gold medal in marketing.

The Hudson Bay Company seriously hit the jackpot on this one.

"Have you asked the Olympic Store in Whistler?" I asked her.

"Yeah, and they told me that people line-up at 8:30 AM in the morning to grab any that they happen to stock that day. They're sold out in the first hour," she sighed. "There's no way I can get them given their popularity."

I looked down at my backpack in front of me, the backpack that carried my little used second pair. This wasn't the first time I had heard that story told in British Columbia. Apparently the frenzy over those mittens has escaladed in Vancouver to the point that people were beginning to steal them. As if people weren't already crazy about them to begin with, this had only made things more insane.

I had been thinking for a time to give those mittens away to someone. It just felt wrong to have two pairs when so many people couldn't get even a single pair for themselves. And it's a shame, as they are a great part of our Canadiana, and an effective piece in which to share in the Olympic spirit that seemed to be embodied in these bright hand warmers.

I opened my bag and pulled them out. "Here," I said. "You can have these. I have a second pair, and these ones I've really only worn once."

At first she refused. But when I explained that I had very little use in owning two pairs, she then graciously accepted them and immediately put them on, marvelling at their warmth. I could see on her face, it wasn't so much the popularity or the novelty that those mittens had acquired since Oprah made them bigger than big, it was the compassion involved in recieving them. But that is simply a part of what these mittens represent.

Plus, what do I need an identical pair for anyway?

Cheers!

Grace

PS. I heard that you too are now looking for a pair yourself. Wish you made that decision before I left for Vancouver, because my mom could have easily gotten you a pair without so much of the hassle that's going on now. Take Marty's mom's advice though, as she did that search before. And I wish you good luck. No really. This is Oprah we're talking about here.

Volunteering: Feb. 19 - The jump of his life

Day 8 of the 2010 Vancouver Games

The thing that makes the Olympics such an interesting and dynamic entity in competitive sport is that it's often not the best that wins, but the one who for one day is able to provide the performance of his or her life. - Feb. 13, 2010

When it comes to ski-jumping, the Canadians are by and large out-classed and out-gunned by the field of competitors. Despite having four competitors registered to represent the country in today's long hill event, the highest ranked Canadian was no higher than 8th last in a field of 61 competitors.

In short, we're not very good.

Part of it has to do with the fact that there is only one Olympic ski-jumping facility in all of Canada. In fact, it is a remnant of the 1988 Calgary Winter Games, and by some accounts is beginning to show some of its age. This creates a fairly shallow pool of talent as there are less people who are able to access it and learn on it. And honestly, I don't know many people who'd want to learn ski-jumping over any of the other sports that doesn't involve a mandatory relocation to Alberta.

Today was the qualification run for the Long Hill event up at Whistler Olympic Park. This meant an early morning deployment for us ski-jumping press assistants into the chilled but clear morning. We had to be present for trial runs that began before the competition. And though most of the media chose not to observe the test runs with us, there was a massive crowd of spectators that day at the venue, almost 6600 strong. For a run that wasn't even going to go to a medal round, that was impressive.

The stands were full and the crowds were loud today at Ski-Jumping

How the ski jumping competition works is that the start list runs in reverse order of the World Cup rankings in the event. Therefore, the weakest ski jumpers will always jump first, while the strongest ski jumpers will always jump last. However, given that the top ten competitors all pre-qualified into the second qualification event, they weren't even relevent that day. Regardless of this, all of the competitors in the event jumped in the qualification round.

The first day's qualification round eliminates eleven athletes with the lowest overall score following the jump. And for that reason, there was little optimism regarding the Canadian team on their prospects of advancing. We needed to be at least 39th out of 50 athletes to guarentee a spot in the following day's second run event. But with our best ski jumper ranking 53rd out of 61, the general expectation was that Canada would again fail to qualify to jump another day. After all, they failed to qualify by a metre and a half in the Normal Hill event.

But then Stefan Read of Canada took to the bar during qualification. He was ranked 59th in the field, and so therefore there wasn't too many expectations on his performance.

You never will get the full effect of ski-jumping on television. You never get a true sense of just how high and far they need to go in order to achieve a high ranking. The sense of perception is absolutely lost in the close-ups.

But today, when everyone expected a short-run, short-lived attempt at legitimacy, Stefan Read made the jump of his life. And has he flew down the hill, people began to realize that maybe, just maybe, he has made it far enough.

He landed and the crowd erupted. He had reached 120.0M with that jump, an incredible length for any Canadian, let alone him. His reaction to his score was muted, but already you could see the huge smile on his face.

He knew he made the jump of his life. And he knew he had a chance.

But there were 58 ski jumpers behind him. And there was a chance that less than eleven skiers would put down worse marks than he did. Now came the waiting game, and the Canadian coaches held their breath as the 57th ranked ski jumper took to the bar.

Score after score was being posted, and I began ticking them off one by one based on whether they had a better or worse score than Read. All those that came after were all suposedly stronger jumpers than Read, but when you jump for the stars, you often go past even your best expectations.

 As person after person dropped below him, Read got closer and closer to qualifying. At last, at around bib number 25, all the Canadian officials and coaches had identical grins on their faces. The last jumper had failed to beat Read's score of 120.0M.

And so, against many odds, Read, once the third-lowest ranked ski-jumper at these Olympics became Mr. best-in-Canada. He had officially qualified to represent Canada in tomorrow's second qualification run. As one coach told me later, "One of our boys qualified, so yeah, we're really happy."

A spectacular and very fortunate shot of the mountain-scape surrounding

Callahan Valley.

Volunteering: Feb. 18 - In the MXZ

Day 7 of the 2010 Vancouver Games

It was my sixth day volunteering at the Winter Olympics up at Whistler Olympic Park. And the sixth day happened to be one of a number of day when volunteers, as a way to keep us motivated because they overwork us, gets a prize.

So Squirtle now has a new girlfriend. Her name is Miga the Sea Bear, and she is one of the official mascots for the 2010 Vancouver Winter Olympics. She is apparently a mix of killer whale and Kermode bear, a rare white bear that only lives in British Columbia. All I know is, I wouldn't want to find out how the two species managed to fornicate with each other.

They also gave me the option of getting a Quatchi doll, which is another official Olympic mascot and is apparently supposed to be a Sasquatch. Miga is cuter though, hence why I passed on the hairy fat beast.

Today was an off-day at the media venue down at Cross-Country and Ski Jumping today as most of the attention was averted towards Biathalon today at Whistler Olympic Park, which was hosting two events for the men's and women's. So for most of the morning, we chilled by keeping up to date on current Olympic events going on at the moment and the day before as well as briefing each other on the events that our venue was preparing for.

A slow day at the Venue Media Center meant less cleaning up after them!

It wasn't until after noon did I get my first assignment. I was asked to head up to the ski jumping venue, where they had changed almost everything for the Large Hill event, and oversee the athletes, coaches and media during the training run. It also meant that I, as well as the rest of the team that came with me, had to basically re-learn the media set-up in front of the venue; who goes where and why, and who can and cannot.

For once, I got a job that didn't involve me playing security guard at the press zone entrance. Today, I got to sit myself in the athlete's corridor near the end of the press mix zone and kept an eye on the coaches and athletes that were only a few feet on the other side. Basically, I was having some of the world's best ski-jumpers walk within inches past me on their way back to the ski lift.

It also placed me in the middle of some serious journalism, at least, as much as you can get on a training day.

I got to meet with the younger sister of 17-year-old Canadian ski-jumper Eric Mitchell from where I stood. From Calgary, she will work as an educator on ski jumping on event days. A ski jumper herself and 15 years old, she told me that her brother was really pumped when he made the Olympic team,and by the look of her face, she had similar aspirations herself, regardless of the fact that women's ski jumping has not been officially introduced as an Olympic sport.

However by the sounds of one reporter, women's ski jumping may yet be included at the Winter Olympics in 2014 in Sochi, Russia. That was the subject of his questions from a reporter to Austrian and 8th ranked ski jumper Martin Koch following his second run. I won't quote him precisely, but the general tone is that Koch feels that if women are able to compete at the same level in ski jumping, why shouldn't it be included in the next Olympics? He also said that women ski jumping would not change the sport.

The Polish silver medallist in the normal hill and the 6th ranked ski jumper in the world Adam Malysz on the other hand didn't seem to be in the mood to speak with the media. He did stop to talk with Polish broadcasters after his first trial run that saw him top the leaderboard with a 144.0m jump. But following his second run, which saw him faulter somewhat from his first, very impressive jump, he refused to stop for anyone.

A Polish journalist asked, in Polish, to speak with him. Malysz declined. The reporter asked again, more strongly a second time. Malysz turned him down even more forcibly the second time and kept on walking quickly past the both of us. As he headed back up the hill the journalist muttered "shit" and walked away.

The top five in the world did not make an appearence at the trial runs, likely because they had already qualified for the event.

All in all, it was an easy going day. And the weather was gorgeous with perfect, clear blue skies and a shining sun. It actually got so warm outside that I took off my outer shell of a coat and was still too warm. The fences were absorbing so much of the sun's radiant heat that even they were sinking slowly into the snow that they were secured into.

Tomorrow I'll be at it again, but this time, it'll be for keeps as qualifications for the long hill ski jump is about to begin.

Squirtle Adventures: Where the turtle came from

Day 6 of the 2010 Vancouver Games

Lately, you may have noticed a little, stuffed turtle from Japanese animation fandom  randomly pop up in my pictures on this site.

His name is Squirtle, from the anime Pokemon, and he's my little travelling buddy for the duration of this trip.

Squirtle posing next to a picturesque view of the mountains

surrounding Whistler

A couple of years ago, my boyfriend Marty was about to head off on a northern European cruise with his family for about two weeks. None to happy about leaving me behind in Toronto, I gave him my little Squirtle doll and told him to take a lot of pictures with him in Europe. This was a way for him to share the adventure with me.

He came back with a tonne of interesting pictures of this little Squirtle doll. It also started a new travelling tradition with the two of us.

There is no particular significance in the selection of the Squirtle doll as a travelling companion, outside of the fact that he is and has always been my favourite Pokemon character. He was just small and easy to carry around. You can easily stick him in your backpack and pull him out at whatever convenient time in which you wish to take a picture.

It's similar to the "Flat Stanley" project that is so popular among school children, but the honest truth is that it's really just an easy coping method for when we're apart for long periods of time. It's an easy conversation piece and a way we can stay in touch and together, therefore making the long separation a lot less difficult for each other.

Squirtle at Pearson Internation Airport, waiting to check

luggage in for flight to Vancouver on Feb. 8, 2010

Marty and I each have our own, and the one that we take is determined by who wishes to bring it or have their Squirtle brought with them. For this trip, I took Marty's Squirtle doll that he gave me, as he was again none too happy, this time for me leaving him behind in Toronto.

He then challenged me to try and better his adventures in Europe with Squirtle, reminding me of some of his better pictures with the doll, highlighted by a picture with Squirtle stuffed between the cleavage of some mannequin in Europe.

And sometimes, I have to remind myself that finding weird and interesting places to put and bring the Squirtle doll to is all part of this crazy adventure that is my trip to Vancouver 2010.

At first, mostly on my first day in Whistler, I stuck to mostly tourist events to put him in and snap a picture of. There weren't that many, given that the Olympics had yet to start at that point. So I basically, every time I ran into a statue or monument, I would place him conspicuously within the figure and snapped a picture.

But it all seemed so ordinary and routine. Marty had challenged me to give him something better, something more. And for those who don't know me very well, I don't back down from challenges very easily. But the thing was, I was in Whistler, British Columbia. Marty took this little guy to Europe and Russia. There isn't many things in this small town that can top the kind of history or stories that go with a place like Russia.

So I tried to be more creative. I think my most daring picture involving Squirtle in this attempt was my picture of him perched on top of an Inukshuk inside the Canada Olympic House in Whistler, next to a sign that said "Fragile. Do not touch." Actually, I wasn't even supposed to be that far into the building to begin with as it was an area restricted to athletes only, but I was allowed as far into the lobby in order to get my candid shot.

Still, I didn't feel the interest was high enough. That was when I began asking people to pose with him. Actually, I only asked two people in particular to pose with my little Squirtle doll, one of them being a cameraman for CBC Sports on my first day in Whistler Village.

The man was surprisingly good natured about it, and it turned out to be one of my more fun and interesting shots of the day trip through Whistler Village. It may seem a little strange, thinking that a picture with a little stuffed turtle perched on top of a camera owned by CBC Sports would be my favourite shot after the day, but honestly, there's only so much you can do with snap shots of the mountains. This one at least had a story to tell next to it.

Since then, Squirtle has travelled with me everywhere, in the hopes of finding that perfect shot of the little beastie next to something or someone interesting. He was there when I went to Vancouver and watched Team USA beat Switzerland 3-1 yesterday, and got very drunk in the process, or at least that is what I told my boyfriend when he asked why Squirtle was face down into the table behind me in a picture. He is there every day when I go up to volunteer at Whistler Olympic Park and he was with me today, when I went into Whistler Village late in the afternoon, and encountered some fellows that apparently wanted to put the poor turtle to questioning as to his presence in the vicinity.

And for the record, Squirtle pictured with two Royal Canadian Mounted Police in ceremonial gear - red jacket, puffy pants and their brown, wide brim hat - totally beats out any shot of Squirtle posing with any kind of mannequin on any continent in this world.

The Adventure: Olympic Fever at the Olympic Store

Day 6 of the 2010 Vancouver Games

To: DeeDee

I haven't taken a trip to the Whistler Olympic Store since the 9th of February, right before the beginning of the Vancouver 2010 Winter Olympic Games. It was quiet that day as I meandered the store, looking at the items but hesitating somewhat at the marked-up prices of some of the merchandising. I hadn't made a decision on anything though, and because of that, it prompted me to wait.

Today, on the second of two consecutive days off, I finally decided to swing down to the store at around 4 PM and purchase a few gifts for some good friends and my boyfriend there.

I couldn't believe how busy it was.

I had known they had set up a gate and locked down all other entrances in order to control the crowds that wished to enter the store, but it was still small pickings to what goes on in downtown Vancouver's Olympic Superstore. Nonetheless, walking in, I realized that maybe I made a bit of a mistake in putting off the purchasing to when I did.

The store was practically being picked clean by tourists and locals as Olympic fever hit a historic high in Canada.

The racks of red mittens that were once ready for the cold hands of spectators were stripped bare by the souvenir-hungry foreigners that bought into the hype that made the mittens the icon of the Games. From what I understood, it would all but stay cleaned of any mittens until the end of the Games itself. The pins on the wall, once so numerous in styles and types, had lost its diversity as they too were consumed by the spirit of the Games. Even the hats and scarves that graced the pillars around the room lost its variability.

I spent nearly one and a half hours in that store, fighting past a large family from China and then a group of people with the Russian team based in Whistler, trying to find gifts. I was quick to settle on the gift for the boyfriend, Marty, but ended up hemming and hawing over the item that would go to my friends, Jess and Michael.

The first issue was the manufacturer. My friend Jess had be very vocal about her disapproval over the outsourcing of most of the apparel of the Olympic clothing line to China, though it was that that made the items affordable in the first place. But at the same time, I understand her criticisms as well. So I made a concerted effort to find an item that was made in Canada that would be appropriate to gift to them.

It was a lot harder than I expected it to be.

Though I would find plenty of good gift ideas for them, the "made in China" manufacturer's tag frequently left a sigh on my lips as I placed the item back on the shelf. For awhile, the only item that I saw that actually said made in Canada on it was a pair of salad forks.

I had expected better of the Olympics to perhaps use these Olympics to manufacture some manufacturing jobs in Canada for this, not China. But then, no one would be able to reasonably afford it. At least, you'd be hard pressed to find someone willing to spend 72 dollars on a t-shirt of all things. Just ask the Russian, who are selling their team polos for 129 dollars.

Which brought me to my second issue, which was price, and that tied into what I ended up finding for them that is made in Canada. But it came at a bit of a price. There was a similar, albeit lower quality, item being sold at the store in Whistler, but made in China. However, it was also three times cheaper than the version I purchased. Incredible.

The final issue was my fear of the lack of variability in the store and that was just down to my own stupidity. I had pushed my visit back that day to avoid a line-up. But while I did avoid it, I did not avoid the fact that the people before me practically cleaned out whatever new and interesting item that was restocked that day that might have been there before I arrived.

Therefore, I didn't even manage to finish my shopping trip today.

I'm reassessing my options right now. And hope I can get my shopping done before I leave Whistler on the 27th of February.

Cheers!

Grace