The Olympic torch invaded my neighborhood yesterday, like a surprise party with lots of cops and batons and secret service in parked cars.
The media can say what they will, but I was amazed by the ingeniously choreographed stunt we pulled to get it over with. I certainly had no idea the last minute route would include my block, though I had suspicions about halfway through the route when it started heading my direction. I bolted outside with the tv still on, saddled my bike beside my neighbors who did the same, and we all made a beeline for the harbor.
I took my front row seat at the edge of the curb as the motorcade approached. A protester stood next to me, surveying the scene. "Look at all those SUVs," he said, shaking his head.
The Olympic circus came closer and before I knew it I was in the nuclei of a mass protest. There was chanting and noise and sirens and helicopters and my senses were so immersed I didn�t know where to look anymore, the torch or the crowd. People waving Chinese flags walked alongside people wearing Tibetan flags. A sailboat with Tibetan prayer flags hoisted on the mast in place of sails glided along beside the crowd, its passengers waving majestically. The media struggled to keep up.
The torchbearer held his torch high and threw a peace sign with his other hand. He smiled at me, a mixed smile that showed compassion, worry, and a little bit of 'oy, this whole thing is nuts, ain�t it?' I was a little anxious for him too. Bearing a symbol of controversy in the public eye made him vulnerable, even with the army of police escorts, whose own fear was tangible in the way they held their batons, their eyes pleading with us for a peaceful day. But no one wanted a riot. We love our city too much, and everyone in it, no matter which side of the curb. That's kinda why we�re here. We're opinionated while wearing flowers in our hair. Aw.
I kept with the other bicyclists and listened for rumors about where the motorcade might head. "Closing ceremonies were canceled!" Someone yelled. Some headed north. Some scattered west. Suspicious buses were hidden everywhere so it was impossible to tell which way the final destination would lead. I followed the crowd to the Golden Gate Bridge, but it was a trick! The convoy vanished in the opposite direction toward the freeway, leaving Tibet supporters to hitchhike or hail cabs.
Thoroughfares were reopened as swiftly as they'd been closed, and the gracefully coordinated symphony was finally over. The most important thing I suppose, is that no one got hurt or killed.
Well, aside from all those people in Tibet.
1:10 p.m. - 2008-04-10