There is no parking at Whistler. None. Except a few spaces outside the Marketplace grocery store. There are extra buses running up to Whistler from Vancouver and Suquamish, but they don't always run when the schedule suggests. There are volunteers who are traveling up from Vancouver every day. They are called Club 99. This is named after the Sea to Sky Highway. They spend so much time on Highway 99 that they call it a club.
Fortunately, we are staying a few blocks from the main village, and can walk to the gondola. It takes about 15 minutes or so to do that. However, Saturday morning, Rod and Rich were going skiing and with all of their gear, we decided to try out the buses. This is interesting. It takes 15 minutes to walk to the village. If we take the bus, we walk 5 minutes to the bus, go 2 miles around Whistler Village, get off by the library, and catch a second bus, the "Special" to go to the base of the gondola. This takes about 15 minutes if you connect just right. So, why ride when you can walk? Because walking that far in ski boots is a pain in the neck, and riding seems like a good idea. It costs $2.00 Canadian to ride. As a volunteer, I can ride for free as long as I have my credentials around my neck.
Whistler Village has an excitement to it today. The sadness of yesterday still lingers, but life is coming back into the village. At the base of the Excaliber Gondola is a "boom" with a camera on it which bobs around televising people as they walk through the village. It is rather interesting. As I looked around the village today, there was a group of 6-7 Americans sitting around Long Horns, outside under heaters. There were groups of athletes walking around in various uniforms. There were families, couples, singles, official looking people, and there is a very visible police force. This does not feel like a police state, but more like a sense of protection. The police are friendly but watchful. It is a pleasant experience all in all.
So, Rod and Rich and I ride up the gondola together. They with their skis, and me with my volunteer uniform. I can get off at the midway point where the Sliding Centre is for my first shift, but I decide to ride all the way up with them and then come back down to the midway point. This is all because I know I won't see them until very late. There is something seriously wrong with this picture, though. I ride all the way up to the top of the gondola with these 2 as they razz me the entire way up the lift that they were going SKIING, and I was going to WORK...there were lots of snickers and laughter about this. They were talking about how they heard the powder was exceptional, and that there was probably 18 inches on the backside.
"Too bad you have to work, Nancy, ha ha, he he ho ho...."
I couldn't wait for them to get off to spare me any further agony. I knew that my job at the Olympics is to sit in a tent....and they will be skiing. This is my dream....yes....my dream....
The only redeeming fact was that on the way up and down, I was able to see athletes training slalom on the hill. That was a treat. I'm not sure what team was training, but they make us masters racers look like kindergartners.
To enter the venue, volunteers enter through a separate gate from spectators. There is a "Mag and bag" system where you are scanned and your bags checked. Today I went through without being scanned or checked. This will change though since there will be random checks throughout my time here.
Upon arrival at the check in for volunteers, where I will spend the next 2 weeks, there is a gathering of people. Behind our work area is a room that was converted from our storage room to a counseling center. A certified counselor was meeting with a group of volunteers who were discussing times they could meet. The counselor was pulled in to meet with paid and volunteer staff who either witnessed the death of Nodar, or who were affected by it. The word here is that for those who witnessed the impact, there was no question what the outcome would be.
Mostly, people can't really talk about it right now to each other, or at least the people who I have talked with. There is a feeling that any mention of what happened will bring a flood of tears and emotion. It is just too early to say much, it is much to raw. There are heavy hearts here in this family of sliders and workers.
The grief counselor is busy all day. One after another, people file in and out. He is a nearly 60 year old man who you can tell has a lot of experience with working around peoples' emotions. His kind eyes and gentleness exuded compassion. I almost cried just looking at him. He is the kind of person you know you could spill all of your grief and feel completely comfortable in doing so. It's perfect for what is happening at the venue today.
People file in and out of the room and the door closes each time behind them. I really don't have the heart to look at people as they come and go. It is just too personal and private to invade. If I knew them well, it would be different. But I don't. We continued our work, greeting each workforce member as they arrived on site, and scanned their credentials and smiled and said "hello, and welcome".
Here is the summary of what I will be doing here the next 2 weeks:
1. Say hello (smiling, of course, as we were trained to do)
2. Scan the volunteer or paid staff credentials
3. Provide a food voucher to feed the worker
4. Check off a shift card that awards people throughout their shifts with gifts.
*On the third shift, you get a pin
*On the sixth shift, you get a stuffed mascot (it's really cute)
*On the 9th shift, you get a key chain.
*I haven't seen the 12th shift, yet...
5. Direct people who are lost, except that I am also lost, so this is interesting. Thank goodness Kate and Candace, the managers are nearby because they actually know what is going on. Throughout the day, I think I started to get where everything is. I think I sent one lady to the wrong place though. I'll here about it later if I see her again. The likelihood is that I will see here because we check every worker as they come through. I guess I'll here more about it later...
Halfway through the shift, we had good news. Elianor, my workmate, and I were sent on a mission to deliver candles to the Control booth for another vigil. There are accredited shuttles for workforce. We hop on the shuttle with a standing room only crowd and go up to the venue. We get off the shuttle, look around, deliver the candles and have some time to watch the men's single luge. We walked down to the 16th curve, right where the luger had died yesterday. It is an ominous feeling to be there. But now is a new day, and athletes are competing for their moment. The first time one of the lugers came through, I didn't even see him. They go so fast, it is unbelievable.
There has been a change since yesterday. As you can imagine, safety is a paramount issue. Now, all of the men's luge will be starting from the women's start, and the women and pairs from the junior starting area. There is a relief from many about this change, but, as Rod found out on a bus, there are people who don't want "watered down" Olympics. A man on a bus was really disgusted that they changed the starting point when this is a world class track and capable of breaking every record. After seeing what I have witnessed at the venue, this makes me sad. There is fear here...or at least there was until the start was changed.
It is dark out, but the track is illuminated. It is actually quite beautiful. There are Olympic rings embedded into the ice of the track and it appears as if light is coming out of the ice to light up the viewing area. It is much more beautiful than I would have imagined.
Here is how it works. There is a giant TV screen in the main finish area. The camera focuses on the racer at the start of the race. As the luger comes through, you count the number of curves, and then when you know he is coming, you watch the course in anticipation, and whip your head around as he goes around the curve. It is over. It's that fast. The times are up on the board with the leaders and the current runners ranking with the top. We saw some of the slower racers, but they were still incredibly fast. It is all worth it. Even with Rod and Rich skiing, this is an incredible adventure, and I'm glad I could experience it.
The heat was over, and Elianor and I walked our way back down to the work area. I finally saw it.... a slider coming through the track. Wow.....awesome.
Once settle back in, work slowed down considerably at the check in. There is a TV in the room next to us, a large dining hall where we were served salmon soup, rice basmati rice, turkey stew and grilled vegetables. I was able to see Shannon Bahrke win the gold in women's moguls. This is near and dear to my heart since I was one of them once (but I didn't go upside down in my era) The last few people we checked in are those who work the track all night. They do track maintenance, make sure the equipment is functional, so when the next day starts, everything is working properly.
At the end of the shift, Elianor and I rode the gondola down to the village with 6 other friendly smiling volunteers. I think they would have even been that way without the class.
I met up with Rod and Rich in the village, and they had scored ticket to the Ski jump, cross country and men's luge on Sunday. They were happy as clams....
We got back to our little trailer (sometimes it seems smaller than other times when wet gear is all over the place...) and fell quickly to sleep.
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