NBC's Jimmy Roberts gave a poignant remembrance
of Pyrros Dimas a few days
ago during one of his "Chevrolet Moments" - his nightly take on something
of interest to him that happens during the Games. Perhaps most fascinating
to me was watching the Greeks and Greek-Americans that are working here with
us watch it. I said to one who has been living the in States for the
past several years, "You've been more Greek in the last eight days than you
probably have in the last eight years."
He smiled, paused, and agreed.
Some Aussie pride at the Aquatic Center.
National identity
is a funny thing, especially in a situation as international as the Olympic
Games. One of my friends first worked in the Research Room in Sydney
in 2000, fulfilling one of our "local" positions. He's no longer a
local, now that we're in Athens, but he's still with us, and when the Australians
are in the pool or on the cycling track, we cheer along with him, knowing
well to respond "OI OI OI" to his chant of "AUSSIE AUSSIE AUSSIE!"
We excuse his constant yellow and green apparel, representative of the boxing
kangaroo, and we understand that for whatever reason, he finds field hockey
fascinating.
Throughout OAKA, spectators stroll over the burning marble and under the
intense sun wrapped in flags. They hold signs that proclaim where
they are from, and they chant things that only their compatriots understand.
But communication still happens amongst these fans from many places.
Because all have traveled here seeking the same experience, hopeful for
medals, but more hopeful of having a good time.
Pin trading -- The common language?
Besides, with pins,
who needs a common language? I came across a pin trader a few days
ago that did not speak a word of English, and I had no idea what language
he was speaking. But we bargained, bartered, traded, and ended up walking
away happy with our new acquisitions, both sure that a fair deal had been
brokered despite our inability to understand each other.
And doesn't that mean we understood each other?
