Pipedream (8 days to go)

In early July 2005 the decision was made in Singapore for London to host the Olympic Games in July/August 2012. I remember the build-up, the day, the euphoria, very well. I remember my Geography teacher standing in the classroom that overlooked the English Channel, pointing in the general direction of France, and making a joke. Of course, Paris, against the odds, had lost out to us.

I was only 15 years of age and, although it seemed like half a lifetime away, I remember thinking to myself, “I’ll be 22 by then. I’ll be old enough to work there.” It seemed like a pipedream. I imagined that sort of work to be only available for people who knew the likes of Steve Redgrave and Seb Coe. Plus, 2012 seemed such a long way away. To any fifteen-year-old, anything above eighteen seems old and a very long way away.

Over the years, my life has moved on dramatically. I’ve finished my studies, I just graduated with a 2:1 at the University of Birmingham with a degree in French, Spanish and European Studies. I’ve spent a life-changing year abroad, meeting wonderful people, seeing unforgettable places. Like every young person, I’ve had relationships and friendships come and go. I’ve made brilliant decisions and I’ve made terrible mistakes, and everything in between. It feels like I’m a whole different person now, and yet fundamentally I’m the same happy, healthy person I always was. And the preparation for the London 2012 Olympic Games has always been there.

Two years ago, just before I went abroad, the call-out for Volunteers – Games Makers – began. Remembering that day, that pipedream five years previously, I took a chance and applied. It didn’t need a second thought. I ticked through all the boxes. I’d find a place in London. I’d do anything possible to be part of this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to be a part of the Olympic Games and represent my country. I think I applied to work in the shops in a few of the venues. I didn’t realise my language skills would be recognised the way they have been.

I went abroad and had the time of my life. The application remained at the back of my mind, and was soon forgotten nothing came of it. I was all right with that – I could be a part of the Olympics in other ways. Namely on my couch.

But then, a little over six months ago, almost like something out of Harry Potter, I unexpectedly received the letter asking me to ExCel near the London Docklands for an interview. It was for a totally different post than the one I had applied for, one I had no idea about, but still exciting. I took a cheeky day off Uni and breezed into the interview, nowhere near nervous enough, more interested in the interview practice (I had another the following day for something totally different) than daring to believe I could get the position, and had a wonderful chat with the interviewer for twenty minutes. Maybe I would have been more nervous had I known I really was in with a chance

A month later, on a train to see my Aunt in Scotland, I got the email through. I excitedly told the man next to me; I phoned my parents; I told my Aunt when I arrived; I told my other Scottish relatives. I couldn’t believe I would be a part of this.

Since then, I’ve been to role training in various parts of East London once a month, negotiating everything around my lectures and my exams. With great difficulty I arranged place(s) to stay in London, for which I am extremely grateful. I've walked alone in Hackney in the dead of night. I've been up at the crack of dawn. I tried to drive a BMW around the scary streets of London. I've walked around the Olympic Village. Venezuela is my new favourite country. The training has been an experience in itself.

Now it’s just past midnight on July 11th 2012. In less than six days I’ll be at my first house in London. In 8 days I start my first shift. The London 2012 website says it’s just under 17 days to go until 20h12 (see what they did there?) on July 27th , when the Opening Ceremony begins.

The pipedream of a fifteen year old girl is getting very, very real. I couldn’t be more excited!

Catch-Up Time!

So I haven’t updated for three weeks.  In my defence, it’s possibly been one of the busiest three week periods I’ve ever had, but it means that I have to post a long update.  But it’s fun, too!

Where to start?  The beginning I suppose. 

On May 21^st I finished my final exam of my degree.  This was perhaps the best part as it brought a lot of joy.  I was incredibly happy.  It’s like a gigantic weight – one that’s been around for a very long time – was lifted.  Now I can talk in French and Spanish when I want and how I want.  Now when I learn it’ll be for pleasure and not for an exam.  It’s so wonderful a feeling.

The following week included some great barbecues with course friends and other friends, as well as a trip to Aston Hall (a giant stately home near Villa Park Football Stadium) with my friend Virginie (who’s French) and saying a sad farewell, with the help of strawberry pancakes in the Selly Sausage, to my Spanish buddy, Anaïs, who returned to Valencia.  I also got back into the spirit of writing, and went on driver training for the Olympics.

Then I went to Salisbury for a week with my friend Emma.  We’ve just completed four-year degrees, with a year abroad, so we decided to give ourselves a relaxing few days.  We walked a lot, found the awe-inspiring Stonehenge, and saw the famous Cathedral, and Magna Carta, feasting on sausage sandwiches and potato bread (among other things), and trying to get into shape after the laziness exams induce.  However, we also spent hours writing under a very old cedar tree in front of the Youth Hostel.  This was a great way to get back into my passion, and it also gave us a chance to meet some great people from all over the world (mostly New Zealand and Canada, though). 

From Salisbury, I went straight home to Hastings, where the road I live on had organised a street party for Her Majesty the Queen’s sixtieth Jubilee.  I’ve always wanted a street party (I remember during A Level I announced (in French) that the world would be a better place if we had more street parties (and everyone laughed at me!)), and this one didn’t disappoint at all.  The weather was damp, with some rain (although not for the whole day), but it didn’t ruin the fun at all, with gazebo’s protecting us from the weather, music coming from one of the houses, and kids playing party games throughout the afternoon.   I really wished I was a kid again!   It was a great opportunity to get to know my neighbours (after eight years of living in the close ha ha ha) and helping the Queen celebrate her holiday.  I’m sure I owe her a gigantic thank you (and congratulations) for living so long!  We also watched the concert, which was OK (except I didn’t like seeing how old my favourites, Sir Cliff, Sir Elton, Sir Paul and Sir Tom, were getting.  It should be illegal for them to get old!).  There was an enchanting documentary, narrated by Prince Charles, about the private cinefilms taken by the Royal Family on holidays and during personal time.  It was so endearing to watch such a happy family.  And to see Prince Philip rolling down hills and things.  Just loved it!

My return to Birmingham was on Tuesday, as Thursday was the day of my Gradball.  This was an amazing day, preluded in the Radisson Blu (the giant blue hotel in Birmingham City Centre) with some friends.  The evening itself was very wet and rainy, but nevertheless I had a wonderful time on the fairground rides and in the silent disco, which I’ve always wanted to go, and was so glad Gradball gave me the opportunity to do it.  I enjoyed spending such a special night with some great friends, and enjoyed the compliments directed towards my eBay ballgown!  My only regret is that I didn’t see all the people I wanted to see, because it was so busy and rainy but as long as they had a great time then it’s OK. 

Finally, today Virginie and I made another daytrip, this time to Worcester.  I’ve been meaning to visit the city for the entirety of my degree, but I really can’t believe it took me so long.  The city, although more modernised than I would have liked, was really beautiful.  The cathedral was one of my favourites beyond a doubt, with a beautiful giant stained glass window, and the tombs of King John (which matches nicely with the Magna Carta in Salisbury Cathedral) and Prince Arthur (Henry VIII’s elder brother).  We also got to see the River Severn, which provided some amazing pictures of the Cathedral and water’s edge, and the swan reserve nearby.  There were also some wonderful Tudor-style houses, which were beautiful to see.  I just wish more of the older city had been preserved.

I’m so happy my exams are over, and I’m having the chance to enjoy life on a daily basis now.  I know work one day will dampen that a little, but I don’t mind.  I’m free to make my own choices in life, I have three languages that could potentially take me round the world, and I’m so optimistic for the future.  Let it stay this way!

It's Getting More Real

A very big blog update today – in length and importance.

Yesterday (May 3^rd) saw my return to London’s East End for my fifth Games Maker training meeting, otherwise known as the day I found out the country I was going to be linked to in July and August.  Alongside six others, I’m going to be an NOC (National Olympic Committee) Assistant to Venezuela.  I’m so very excited.  I love learning about new places!  The two girls I met are really lovely and I'm really looking forward to working with them and meeting the rest of my team. 

Any chance to speak Spanish is a godsend to me.  After enquiring a little and reading around the Internet, it looks like a great country.  I really can’t wait to represent the UK, and to be a cog the massive machinery that’s going to make the Olympics go smoothly and amazingly.  I’m truly excited.

Obviously, I have to pick and choose what I post here, but I shall share my experience, for people who are interested and for my own future reference.  Everything I put here will be honest.  In other words, if I’m positive, it’ll be me saying it and not just in case LOCOG find the time in their very busy schedule to find this blog and read it.

Today I returned to London – this time to the UDAC centre to pick up my uniform.  This is one of the many things that has convinced me that the Olympics are going to run very smoothly: if a simple uniform collection can be planned so well, with so much thought through, then the events are going to be marvellous.

I admit I was nervous about the Uniform.  It had received bad press and opinions, and I wasn’t too sure about the colouring.  However, I don’t know what it is, but it’s a lot better in reality.  It could be the excitement; it could be having adjusted to it.  But it’s wonderful.  It’s so, so comfortable and practical (non-iron!).  There’s something about knowing that it’s so sustainable (made of recycled material) that’s comforting as well. 

 

I also got my identity/access card, which is exciting but nerve-wracking.  I don’t want to lose it!  The photo on it is incredibly serious.  As photos are when they tell you not to smile!  It’s not quite as murderous as the one on my passport and driving license, more… ‘Don’t you dare mess with me’.   Ha ha ha.

On the way home, I took a detour to find one of the only two or three Chipotle restaurants in London.  It’s an American Mexican restaurant chain that does things like burritos and tacos, but the best thing there (that I can’t believe they didn’t invent in the UK yet) is the wonderful burrito bowl.  It’s literally a bowl full of burrito filling, without the messiness and calories of a tortilla wrap.  If I had some spare cash I’d certainly start a business!  It was as tasty as America, most definitely, if not as big a portion size (thank goodness!).

I’m genuinely very happy to be alive and British this year.  I came home to amazing plans for the Jubilee weekend (I’ve always wanted a street party!), and the Olympics are so, so close (according to the website, just under 84 days until the Opening Ceremony). 

It’s going to be a great summer.

British Spunk

Sir Winston Churchill.

Even if many of us aren't old enough to remember this speech, we at least feel like we were, because we've heard it so often.

I'll set the scene: June 1940.  Nazi Germany seemed to be doing pretty well.  France was about to become part of Nazi Germany's spoils.  Dunkirk had happened, many soldiers had died or been captured (who are too-often forgotten) and others had returned home.  Morale was low.

Yet, this was just the beginning.  As this speech shows, Churchill was just getting started.  Somehow, with his way of words and many other factors, in five years the Allies' fortunes changed and the war was won.  The extent Britain, America, Russia etc were the reasons behind this are neither here or there for this small rant.  The point is we were down and we came up.  This speech has never been forgotten - for many it's the epitome of British 'spunk'.

So, all these decades later.  Well... where's it gone? Sure we're in a 'double-dip' recession and it's terrible.  Unemployment's high, many people are losing their homes.  I'm not denying it's a very bad situation.  But isn't June 1940 evidence that a little bit of British optimism is sometimes a good thing?  No one seems to be standing up and saying 'we're going to get through this'.  It's all doom and gloom.  For a Coalition Government, for a Labour Government.  For any Government.

I know people will laugh at my optimism.  Or my want of it.  But think back to those days.  I mean, sure, the recession isn't going to take a gun and shoot his mistress and then shoot himself in a bunker somewhere.  Sure the Russians aren't going to come from another Front and help (although that would be nice).  At least, I don't think that's the plan.  The recession's not going to bomb Pearl Harbour and prompt the USA to do something.  At least I hope not.  Bombs are bad.  The USA has too much to worry about.

But that's not the point.  In 1940 no one knew those things were going to happen.  The point is that someone should stand up and tell us we're going to fight this.  Sure, it's going to be a long struggle.  But without hope, how are we going to know it's going to get better?