By way of explanation and to get you ready for my perspective on the Olympics . . .

Non-sports stuff: I am no expert on China, far from it. But I will write about some issues — from Darfur to human rights — and try my best. Comments and thrown tomatoes are welcomed.
 This is, after all, as much a political and corporate event as it is a sports event.

My life here: My life here at the relatively posh Beijing Conference Center, just south of the Fifth Ring Road, about five miles from the Olympic Green, may be of no interest to you. I will not write about dirty laundry or bad service. No woe-is-me from a guy in China getting paid to watch the Olympics.

But I will share some experiences with you. After all, I’m 9,000 miles away and have to tell somebody what I’m up to.

Best part of my hotel is the breakfast. For those of you who have been to China, you’ll understand. Typical breakfast: lilly with pumpkins, fried noodles, steamed buns, kale, steamed tomatoes and a raisin bread roll. There is a single rose on every table. Each table is covered in a gold brocaded table cloth. Each chair has a high-backed seat cover, throne-like. 

Service is daunting. The wait staff watches me as I eat. I have never been neater in my life. I’m afraid to drip anything. I’m not sure of the consequences.



Security: 
Perhaps all of the soldiers and all the police are disguised as one of the zillion volunteers with their distinctive sky-blue polo shirts and their warm-up jackets and khakis. But I have been to lots of Olympics with a more obvious police presence than these.

The other night I wandered towards Tiananmen Square, about a 15-minute cab ride from my hotel, past the Beijing Hotel, from where the famous “Tank Man” photo was taken in 1989. You know, the student attempting to stop the tanks from entering the square during the democracy demonstrations.

There were uniformed personnel around, sure, but, believe me, cops and soldiers in Barcelona in 1992 and Athens in 2004 displayed more machine guns than I’ve seen so far. Like none here ... so far.

In fact, security systems here are thoughtful. In years past, a journalist would hop on his or her bus at the hotel, arrive at the Main Press Center and wait in line to go through your standard airport-style magnetometer. Raise your arms. Get wanded. Wait. Wait. Wait. Photographers and their equipment created bottlenecks.

Here, that security measure has been decentralized. We are inspected every morning when we leave the hotel and before we get on the bus. Our credentials are scanned into a computer system that OKs the bar code. 

No gray plastic bins to place our watches, cell phones and other metallic objects. A young man hands me a tray covered in a red-and-yellow velour doily. He brings my belongings to me after I cross the metal detector. I can bring water on the bus, but first I must take a sip ... now, that’s something the TSA should consider. It’s all very quaint. It’s icily effective.
 
The bus is thus a secure missile driving along the freeway to the very secure Olympic Green that is easy to get into, but almost impossible to get out of.

Pollution: Yep, they got it. The sky is always gauzy. I have no respiratory issues. But I’ve been here a week and have three more to go. Like a former president, I’ll try not to inhale.

OK, now we’re set for the Opening Ceremonies. I hear they’re going to shut down the Internet at the stadium. So you won’t hear from me until later in the day. And I’ll tell you what to look for on TV tonight.

Posted by Jay Weiner, Olympics correspondent in • Olympics
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