Feeling the Olympic Spirit
One of my favorite parts is, of course, the opening ceremonies. I wasn't so much disappointed in London's pageantry as totally baffled by it. Why was there a 100 foot tall blow-up doll of Voldemort? And while I respect British history and contributions to the world, Danny Boyle (the director of Slumdog Millionaire and the artistic creator behind the ceremonies) was a little too conceptual for my taste. And it ended up making British history look--frankly--lame. An English meadow that morphs into a weird symbol of London industrialization that inexplicably turns into children jumping on beds and teenagers dancing outside a house? Anyone without commentary must had felt like they were experiencing a bad acid trip.
But--weirdness aside--that's not why I watch the Opening Ceremony. I watch it for the Parade of Nations; that to me is the epitome of the what the Olympics are about. And the idealist in me gets a little choked up. Last night was historic--though many people probably didn't know. For the first time in history, every country competing was represented by a female athlete. With the addition of Saudi Arabia's two female athletes, a barrier has been broken. Of course, Saudi Arabia is far from gender equality, but it's nonetheless something worth noting.
As the athletes paraded in, I couldn't help but think about the places where these men and women had come from, and what many of them must have endured to get there. Athletes from Sudan, Somalia, Syria, Tunisia, North Korea, Iran and Iraq should leave the world speechless. These men and women have endured political upheaval and uncertainty, revolution and danger, and no matter what their stories, these people walking into the stadium are proud of who they are and where they come from. And no matter what their politics or religion, for one night they are all in one stadium--united.
The Olympics, particularly the Opening Ceremony, reminds the world that our differences are perhaps not so profound. I am not naive--I know that history, religion and politics will always divide us--but there is something beautiful about seeing every athlete from every country on a level playing field that night. Here, hajib or miniskirt, the world is united in excitement and pride. Before the medals and races, everyone is equal and reduced to a teary-eyed child, honored and excited to be representing their countries.
For one night, Palestinians (their very title and inclusion as a separate nation a source of controversy) stand next to Israelis. Iranians file in mere moments before Iraqis, and stand together, waiting for the flames. North Koreans stand peacefully in the same stadium as Americans and South Koreans.
For one night, politics and religion are set aside and in one place on earth, the nations of the world stand together. Peacefully.
Of course, that doesn't stop politics as usual in the rest of the world, but it is a symbol of which it is worth taking note. Our differences and disputes are not the core of our humanity. Far more unites us than separates us. Our world is not perfect--nor will it ever be--but there is cause for hope. And seeing our nations of the world standing together is perhaps the reason that we keep fighting for a better future and a little more peace in the world. Because the people of the world united under one flame may seem impossible--but it's an ideal worth working for. The cauldron created by London, made up of a small copper piece carried in by each country, is a reminder that our world is a mosaic of experiences, beliefs, and futures. And when united, they can come together to create something beautiful.
Comments