Lausanne: The Olympic Museum

The Olympic Museum is the kind of place that celebrates itself. There is a fine line here. When the Olympics manages to be about the athletics, then the so-called "Olympic Movement" is everything it claims to be: a positive celebration of humanity. However, when it aspires to be a positive celebration of humanity, it can end up being a silly charade. The museum treads both sides of the line.

It was the Nazis who dreamt up the idea of starting a relay with a torch lit on Mount Olympus. Of course, there's nothing wrong with invoking the historical precedents of the Games, but since the Nazis brazenly exploited the Games, their idea was more about them, not the Greeks.

It seems the Chinese sought to inflate their own Games by planning and staging the longest relay ever: world-wide, far-flung and even sky-high up Mount Everest. Since no one counted on the March uprising in Tibet and the fact that many non-Chinese would be upset with China's handling of it, the relay has been plagued by protests. They crossed that fine line, taking something simple and making it grandiose, and they are paying the price. The best laid plans of mice and men often go astray....

The relay will and should survive......but for God's sake, keep it elegant, simple, and small.

Near closing time, I caught a 3-D film that showed highlights of the Sydney Games in 2000. It featured the full running of the women's 100 m final and the medal ceremony, complete with the angelic-looking Marion Jones tearing up throughout the national anthem. Since she owned up this year to taking steroids, it's difficult to watch this without feeling that the Games has become a sorry spectacle. Why are they still showing this clip at the Olympic Museum?

It was also interesting to see the pictures of all the Committee members. I couldn't help scanning this gallery of non-athletic looking people from small countries with bloated, despotic faces and wondering.....which ones are selling their votes for favors?

It's nice to see fairy tale stuff unfold at every games, but since the Olympics is just a reflection of humanity itself, the real fun is watching the whole shooting match....corruption, grace, pomp, courage, cheating, beauty and all.

Approaching Lausanne

It took seven flights and two days to get from Japan to Zurich. Since I crossed the date line, it was three actual days and two calendar days. I caught the first train to Lausanne and joined a couple from east Texas who worked for Mercy Ships, a charitable organization that provides medical care to developing countries from....this is no lie....a ship. (http://www.mercyships.org/) The woman was the group's CFO and had to attend a conference in Lausanne. They were lovely, and we traded Dallas and Iowa stories. (I don't have any real Iowa stories, but my fake ones entertained them well enough.) Monolingual and new to European travel, they leaned on me for some assurance. Is this the right train? What does that say? etc. Near Lausanne, a female train employee approached us and offered a gentle "Bon soir." The woman got a little nervous and said, "What? Tickets?" with some panic. I answered, "Bon soir" to bring some calm into the equation and shared a smile with the rail employee as we all produced our tickets. Innocents abroad.....her smile to me said. I'm not with them, said mine.

Nothing on the two-hour ride from Zurich prepares you for the stunning view of Lake Geneva when it finally comes. Any city that sits on a lake is made beautiful by the water. Add mountains, and you are tripling the beauty quotient. Many Swiss cities enjoy both factors, but given the size of Lake Geneva and positioning of the city on a gentle, open slope, Lausanne's view has an unparalleled grandeur to it, which is intensified every time you see a storm over the lake. During my stay, I found it's beauty bewitching me with obsessive thoughts: look at the lake, go to the water, see the mountains, watch the sky.

Lausanne is Switzerland's fifth largest city and has over ten quality museums. It's easy to travel in because everyone, in addition to French, seems to speak some German and English. Also, it has the most tourist-friendly policy I have ever encountered: hotel guests are given free city transport passes for the length of their stay. That is a revolutionary example of largesse. It left me speechless with gratitude. Dieu bénit Lausanne! Lots to see, lots to do.....but the view is reason enough to treat yourself to this place.

Takarazuka

Sachiko took me to Takarazuka, near Kobe, this past weekend. About a hundred years ago, a businessman founded the all-female Takarazuka Revue to attract more visitors to the area. The performances are American-style musicals whose (romantic) stories come different sources, e.g. anime, literature, legend. The fan-base is 99% women, who perhaps see the in the female leads who play men the perfect romantic partner that a man could never be, and the phenomenon is a kind of "cross-dressing" meets "Broadway" scene, as fascinating as it is odd. We didn't catch a show...perhaps next time. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Takarazuka_Revue

We stayed at a spa hotel which had to have been built during the wild speculation of the now-gone Bubble Era of 1986-1991. With columns and statues reminiscent of ancient Rome, the hotel exuded a contrived opulence that reflected the heady arrogance of those bubble days. However, managements recent and sober attempts to keep costs down were evident everywhere: rooms and carpeting in need of renovation, non-professional, part-time staff, etc. The place felt a little dead, but it's good to be the king...if only for a while.

Shodoshima

I rode the ferry from Himeji to Shodoshima (Shodo Island) yesterday. A ride through the Inland Sea's placid waters is a tonic to which I like to return often. The waters are always calm and when the sun shines, it's easier to believe that our existence is as flimsy as a dream. It feels like a boat ride to heaven. I landed at Fukuda and intended to head into the mountainous interior, where a cable car traverses the well-known Kankakei Gorge, but decided instead to just hike along the shore outside of town and enjoy the views of the water dotted with islands and of boats moving slowly about.

I observed a ship pull up to a small penisula and spend the next hour loading its hull with rocks. Some of the magic of these islands is ruined by the fact that Shodoshima and many other neighboring islands have been carving up their landscape and selling it to Kobe and Osaka for land reclamation projects like both cities' airports. This leaves the hillsides with massive yellow gashes, and the days are fraught with industrial strength noise. Still, it keeps the islands' economies going. Some of these towns would have probably been abandoned without these jobs. (It's ironic to be so curious about the economy and employment while on sabbatical. It comforts me to see people minding the shop while I'm at play.)

As small as the town is, I could not find my ryokan and asked a woman to help me. She described how to get there. It was only 30 meters away, but my Japanese didn't include the words for "circle back" and "alleyway." She walked me there. For 7000 yen, I had two meals and a comfortable sleep on a tatami mat. In another 15 years, it's hard to believe such traditional places will exist.

Kyoto Visit

On May 1st, I met Sachiko at Kyoto station. We've been here many times, but Kyoto has over 15 World Heritage sites and is a very spread-out city. Therefore, it's the kind of place you can keep coming back to and still find something new to see. Our arrival happened to coincide with opening of the yuka season along the Kamo River. These are wooden platforms adjoined to restaurants that sit over the canal adjacent to the river. It's a lovely setting from which to watch people strolling along the river path, couples sitting at the water's edge. The next day we went to Kurama/Kifune, northeast of the city. Tengu goblins are said to inhabit this area, and Kifune Shrine uses hydromancy: you dip your fortune into water to read the hidden message. The yuka at Kifune sit only a foot above the rushing water of the stream below. This keeps diners nice and cool in summer, but nice and cold in May. On the 3rd, we visited Sanjusan Temple, noted for it's 1000 gold-painted statues that stand on either side of a big sitting Buddha. These words don't do justice to the power of these places.

http://www.jnto.go.jp/eng/arrange/attractions/facilities/shrines_temples/83dn3a000000ei6u.html
http://www.sacred-destinations.com/japan/kyoto-sanjusangendo.htm

Airplane Grief

I've long been convinced that flight attendants conspire to place a "Seat Molester" behind me. A "Seat Molester" is a passenger who, consciously or not, cant refrain from manhandling, kicking, groping, fondling, and/or perturbing the seat before him/her for the duration of the flight. If it is your seat being so abused, . . . well . . . let's just say it's no fun. Even as an elite Gold member, I'm routinely assigned in front of a Seat-Mo. However, perhaps wishing to avoid my suspicions, they threw me a curve ball on my recent flight to LAX. The heavy-set man seated in the middle of my row slept throughout our flight, but since his neck muscles have atrophied and since he's carrying too much weight in...it seems...his forehead, his cranium would drop forward at regular intervals before being jerked back by his entire upper body. Given his girth, every head-drop plus corrective lurch ended in a butt thump for the entire row. The effect was not unlike having all the annoyances of a roller coaster ride and none of the joys.

If you have the time, as I do, to keep track of such things, add "Lolling Head Rocker" to the list of things that have leached the pleasure out of airplane travel.

Portland Antics

On my last weekend in Portland before heading to Japan, Sam and I had a run around the NW 23rd St. area. After dinner we stopped in a joint to play some pool. Sam spied not one, but two, bachelorette parties, and in his magnanimous way, sent drinks to each of the brides-to-be. One of the groups gamely sent back a shot with a lewd title, and Sam rose to the occasion by upping the ante. He sent a reply shot with a randy quip. The ladies were equal to the challenge, not once, but two more times. Every shot and quip was greeted with howls of laughter from both teams. When the play came back to us, we wracked our brains for a topper but ultimately conceded the match to the women. It's a good rule in life to let the ladies win. Otherwise, you find yourself sleeping on the couch.

(I confess to having no experience with that because I've never owned a couch.)