Delano Herald Journal

Serving the communities of Delano, Loretto, Montrose, MN, and the surrounding area

Winsted resident tells Olympic tales



NAGANO, JAPAN – As the rolling thunder from the closing
ceremony fireworks slowly dies away, I’ll try to put down some observations
as an American living in Nagano.

Having been here since July, I’ve seen the city of Nagano
transformed.

It was a feeling of anticipation that I sensed upon arrival
in July, with more than 180 days on the countdown clock in front of Nagano
station.

The city was quietly preparing for its chance to be seen
by the world.

Over the course of fall and the beginning of winter, the
signs started to appear in earnest. Restaurants began to show proof they
had an English menu with a sticker on their front door.

Street signs were changed to having Japanese and English
on them.

The corporate sponsors erected huge billboards at both
the east and west exits of the train station, welcoming everyone to the
games.

Three hotels shed their green construction canopies to
open their doors only weeks before the visitors began to arrive.

The number of foreign (anyone not Japanese) faces began
to increase. I would see them walking down the street, exiting the station
with their local company guide, eating at the previously quiet restaurants
and shopping in the local department stores.

Returning from my Christmas vacation was the biggest shock
in the pre-Olympics countdown: all the support people were flooding into
town. IBM and CBS (the official computer and television companies, respectively)
had more staff here than there would be athletes.

CBC (Canadian Broadcasting Corp.), Australian Channel 7,
German TV and radio, and people working at the International Broadcast Center
(IBC) were everywhere.

Nagano was beginning to look like New York City, or any
other cosmopolitan city in the world. My favorite restaurants and bars,
where I could always get a seat, were now filled.

Amidst all of this, I could see the people of Nagano already
staring in amazement at the influx of “gaijin” (foreigners), whispering
to their friend, “Look how big they are” and “Oh, there’s
another group of them.”

I even found myself surprised to see western faces on the
train I took home at night. Usually I was the only foreigner, but it was
becoming a frequent occurrence to see another person or group of people
that looked different.

In the days just before the games began, the pace reached
another level. It was a pace that swept us all into the Olympic spirit and
turned the city into a giant melting pot.

Spectators, fans, athletes and thousands of others were
moving about the city like a river of humanity.

I was working a part-time job at Nagano station and the
station was more crowded than I had ever seen it before. The streets were
jammed with ticket scalpers, pin traders and all the interested people standing
around them.

Chou-dori, the main street in town, was often at a standstill
because pedestrian traffic was overflowing the sidewalks into the roadway.

But, in all this apparent chaos, the calm, quiet reservedness
of the Japanese carried through. The crowds were still mostly Japanese and
they endured the stress very well.

There was no yelling, and only a little pushing, mostly
done by the little old Japanese ladies who were unbelievably strong from
years of work in the rice fields.

From the morning of the opening ceremony, it was a thrill
every moment to be here. The sight of the Japanese emperor and his wife
cheering the Hawaiian born Sumo wrestler Akebono as he performed the cleansing
ceremony was a once in a lifetime experience.

Seeing the nation celebrate with unrestrained joy the victory
of Shimizu-san in the 500 meter men’s speedskating event, only to be followed
by a national delirium at Japan’s gold medal in team ski jumping was to
see a side of Japan not seen very often.

They were openly happy – albeit group happiness. People
were moved to tears of joy because gold medals were expected in Lillehammer
in 1994, but that didn’t happen.

Now the medals were secure and the victory took place in
their home country. For people who don’t smile for pictures because “it
doesn’t show your true self,” they were overflowing with emotions.
From tears to laughter, Japan was showing their happiness as only an entire
nation can.

Central Square, where medals for outdoor events were awarded,
was filled to capacity and overflowing onto the street whenever a Japanese
was on the medal stand.

It looked like a giant disco with a million strobe lights
going off all at once, because every person in the place was taking flash
pictures.

Then, after events each day, the people would pour back
into the station, filling the trains, taxis and buses, heading wherever
they were going to stay for the night.

Some attempted to go to the bars and restaurants that were
still open. Between Central Square and the station that was almost impossible.

Everything, every place was filled, this time beyond capacity.
Again, spilling onto the streets, it all added to a feeling of excitement
and frivolity.

The last night of the Olympics a group of eight of us tried
to stay out all night. When the band quit at our starting place we were
faced with finding another location.

It couldn’t be done because, of course, everything was
full. We tried Thirty’s Pizza, we tried the Pink Elephant, we tried Liberty’s,
Kahn’s and the Kirin Beer Hall. All were full or closing at 1 a.m., so we
caught two taxis and took the 25 minute ride to my house.

The taxis cost 8,000 yen (about $64) but the trip allowed
us to sleep on our futons (mattresses on the floor) rather than waiting
room chairs at the train station.

I had a ticket to the closing ceremonies, but the crowds
had become too much for me. I sold it to a scalper for 90 percent of face
value and headed home to watch the ceremony on tv.

Seeing the celebration on the screen made me wish I was
there, it was only 40 kilometers (25 miles) away, but I was content to relax
under my kotatsu (a heated table that you sit under to relax and keep your
legs warm) and see the event via NHK, Japanese National Television.

As the festivities reached their climax at Olympic Stadium,
I opened my deck door and I could hear, from 40 kilometers away, the explosions
of thousands of fireworks and the deep, rolling thunder of the end of the
1998 Winter Olympics in Nagano, Japan.

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