Aug 07 2008
Be Our Guest, Be Our Guest!
A group of "community volunteers"
Beijing has unleashed her volunteers. At every street corner, pairs of old men and women wearing red-and-white collared shirts fan themselves to pass the time, dying for a stranger to approach them with a question. Also lining the streets are blue-and-white kiosks replete with bilingual signage and matching youths, eager to use their English. These Olympic volunteers are eager for visitors to put their service to the test—and to display their patriotism.
The South China Morning Post reported that 1.5 million Chinese citizens are volunteering for the Olympic Games. In total, 6.8 million sporting event tickets have been sold, meaning that even if each person had only a single ticket, there would be one volunteer for every 4.5 spectators. And since Beijing is only expecting half a million outsiders, volunteers will outnumber foreigners three to one. No wonder I have yet to see any of the volunteers actually doing anything.
Calling to mind a line sung by Lumiere, the candlestick in Beauty and the Beast—“Life is so unnerving / For a servant who’s not serving”—I grew curious about who these volunteers are and what motivates their volunteerism.
Mr. Zhang sat on a curb reading a newspaper opposite the Worker’s Stadium, site of the Olympic soccer games. He wore a red-and-white shirt marking him as a “community volunteer,” the lowest level in the three-tiered system. His duties are “to ensure safety and to assist people in the area to find what they need.” As he speaks no English, he is serving Chinese visitors to Beijing. Zhang is a wholesaler of domestic wines, but he took time off from his business to volunteer despite receiving no remuneration—not even an event ticket. When asked why, he said, “I had to!” I asked him if he meant he had somehow been conscripted. He grinned: “No, I had to because I am Chinese.”
Ms. Deng works in a blue-and-white kiosk. She is a “city volunteer” and thus a level above Mr. Zhang. Deng is a university student in Beijing, but like all local college students, she has the month off. Students who are not from Beijing and not volunteering have been asked to leave the city for the duration of the Games to reduce the population. Even when I ask her questions in Chinese, Deng responds in English, telling me that she is here to welcome foreign visitors. As I engage her further, she tells me that her favorite Olympians are basketball star Yao Ming and gold-medal hopeful hurdler Liu Xiang. A fellow, almost identical volunteer cuts in upon hearing this. “Good for you!” she says. And to me: “China’s going to win.”
The most prestigious volunteer position is that of the “venue volunteer.” I have yet to meet one, but I imagine that they are even more colorful and patriotic.
Two bike-mounted "city volunteers"
Personal experience in taxis, language classes, and other sporting events has taught me that intense patriotism is nothing new in Beijing. But for an event the Chinese government insists is not about politics, the volunteer army is certainly a convincing medium for the display of civic and national pride, even if inadvertently.
Moreover, the nationalism of the volunteers does not seem forced. Their enthusiasm makes their patriotism palatable. As visitors are overwhelmed by volunteerism, foreigners will be hard-pressed to believe that the Chinese government is unpopular or unduly repressive. Such a regime would be inconsistent with Zhang’s gusto and Deng’s natural smile.
Whether or not the show is genuine, the Chinese have taken Lumiere’s wisdom to heart: “No one’s gloomy or complaining / While the flatware’s entertaining.”