Beijing Huanying Ni?

"Beijing Huanying ni" or "Beijing Welcomes you" one of the official slogans of the 2008 Beijing games, (which comes with its own song!) has been running around in my mind like a 2 year old with a crayon. When I got off the airplane, plastered across the gate to my building, embodied in five adorable little mascots (which kick the crap out of Izzy, Atlanta's idea of a theme), Beijing is telling the world it is welcome and ready for their arrival. I've been gone a month and the changes are many and yet few at the same time. The thick cloud of gray smog still hangs in the air, blocking out the power of the sun's rays as the once blinding orb becomes a perfect orange tinted circle hanging between buildings. The smog is punctuated, however, with brilliant banners flagging the message "one world, one dream". Teams of young people in blue volunteer t shirts crowd subway stations and man desks outside hotels, helping incoming tourists find their way around the chosen city. Older volunteers (in white t shirts, not blue) sit on sidewalks doing...well I am not quite sure what they are doing but rest assured they are here for the olympics as well. New subway lines have opened, new slogans are made, the same ads play on repeat on the large televised screen outside my gym. And the new safety measures of course. The hotel in which said gym is located is now surrounded on all sides, only enterable through a small gate guarded (albeit very cheerfully and friend-ily guarded) by a team of blue clothed volunteers with metal detectors. I write my name down, they check me for any explosives (aftermath of the kunming bombings or a plan all along?) and I am on my way to the whir and hum of treadmills. I was only 12 when I went to the olympics in Atlanta but for some reason I don't remember being frisked. My host sister and I had a conversation about the lines between liberty and safety and it's hard. What are you willing to not give up to possibly save your life? It seems like such a far time away from when I was here eight years ago, relishing in the factories being turned off, clear skies of blue, ready for the delegates to see the possible 2008 olympic city. I sat on the back of my friend Matt's bicycle, searching for campaign posters adorning the walls of the city, pedaling away from police who caught us pulling them down as mementos of what could be. The time is now 10 days away and there is breathless anticipation in the city that, likewise, doesn't seem to notice at all.