August 8, 2008 9:30am Beijing Time



I wake up shaking and sweating. I'm panic stricken and hyperventilating. I take a moment to calm the fuck down and realize that I've just been dreaming. A series of images slowly cross my sleep addled mind. Chinese soldiers pointing a gun at my head, or was it a taser? Cesar and Jonathan getting beaten to the ground with batons and stomped on. A Tibetan flag on fire with those god awful mascots dancing under it like some macabre game.



I light up a cigarette and swallow down some water. None of that happened. None of that will happen. It was just a fever dream. I stand up and look outside my window and see the same smog veiled city scape I see every morning. I am still half asleep and half crazed with anxiety. "What if I fuck this up?" Years of planning, covert meetings, endless hours of action training...what if I somehow fuck it up? Seems to be the question that keeps on popping in my head. I turn on the TV to distract me for a moment. CCTV comes on with that fuckin annoying ass "Beijing Welcomes You" song that is constantly played, everywhere. The Wangfungjing mall, every single Olympic venue, even the Forbidden City. The only redeeming thing/s about that song were the cute guys and the giddy prospect of deconstructing it with the Team Tibet NYC folks.








I change the channel. Oh great, Hu Jintao and Mrs. Hu Jintao are awkwardly meeting with heads of state that have come to watch the Olympic Opening Ceremonies. I sit and watch as presidents, prime ministers, queens, princes, and I think a sultan or three, walk up, shake hands, face the camera and are escorted away for the next head of state to have their photo opp with the butcher of Tibet. I remember seeing Gloria Arroyo, the current ruler of my island nation fake smile and shake hands with Hu Jintao. And then I see none other than George Dubya Bush and Laura Bush saunter up and shake hands with the Chinese president and first lady. I could have sworn I saw Dubya pat Madam Hu's ass. I need some coffee. There's none so I take another swig of water, inhale another cigarette and jump in the shower.


My head is a bit more clear now. I light up another cigarette and I start to reflect on my involvement and experience within the Tibetan freedom movement over the past decade. Faces, names, protests, marches, chants and tastes start to flood my mindscape. Images and memories fly around behind my eyes.






I take a breath in, "Om Mani Padme Hung", breathe out. I touch my hand to my forehead and my heart and ask Bathala to give me strength. I do an "Our Father" a couple "Hail Marys" and pray to all the Santos that I know. I need to get my head in the game and ready to rock.


I shut off the TV and get ready. The first thing I put on is the protection amulet Tenzin Dolkar gave me. Then the contraband "Team Tibet" shirt that Cesar made here in Beijing like the ninja that he is, then over that the red September Wolves collared shirt, one size too big, for comfort. I slip on my black Ling-li pants I bought the other day and finally my black Onitzuka Tiger shoes. I quickly do my hair and gather up my shit. I step out the door, and whisper another prayer.


I flag down a taxi and point to the Birds Nest stadium to the driver. He shakes his head and hand at me. He then tells me that whole area has been cut off to the public. I hand him 200 Yuan, "get me as close as you can". He shrugs and I start another round of prayers.




By the time we get close to the Bird's Nest, we are flagged off the road by one of the many police checkpoints they have along the way. I get out and realize, that I am about a mile away from our pre-established meet up point. I'm panicking. Of all the times to be late for something...wtf.fml.omg.fml. I have about 30 minutes to meet up with Cesar and Jonathan at the restroom right next to the "Ethnic Minorities Theme Park" (I kid you fuckin not, thats what its called) I need to meet them up, finalize action plans, ID our support folks (photographers/videographers) and somehow communicate to our main action centers in Seoul and Bangkok that we are ready to go. Oh sweet Baby Jesus. Help me.


I walk about three blocks toward the stadium and see more soldiers and police. Fuck. Every single entrance and street that goes to the stadium is blocked off by cops and soldiers. It's like a whole legion of security personnel have been dispatched to cover this whole area to stop people like us from doing what we came here to do. One of the soldiers looks in my direction. Fuck, I'm going to die. If not from a gunshot to the head then from the damned heat and humidity. I have already sweated through my clothes. I half wish that they would start shooting silver sulfide into the clouds to make it rain, just for a momentary respite from the heat. I approach one of the checkpoints and try a trick I saw on Oceans Eleven...or was it Twelve...no wait, it was that Kris Angel guy...anyway. I walk up to the checkpoint and call up all of my confidence and just continue to walk right through the extremely visible police tape barrier as if I were the Sultan of Brunei or some shit.


My little magic trick didn't work. Two cops in blue uniforms rush to stop me. Great. I try to play the dumb American card, "I DON'T SPEAK CHI-NEEESE. MY (pointing to my chest) MOM AND DAD INSIDE THERE (pointing to the stadium)" They start to yell at me in Mandarin, I'm starting to sweat even more and I think my hair started to go grey, then as if by divine intervention this group of extremely sweet, kind and sadly gullible Chinese Olympic Volunteers walk over and ask "Are your parents in there? We can escort you in if you would like." OMG. I might actually get in...




Next...Part 2 of my Beijing Adventure..

*note: Some photos in this post were taken by Noel Hidalgo, citizen journalist, blogger, activist and tech ninja, he was embedded in Beijing to document the actions during the 2008 Olympics. Thank you Noel for letting me borrow your images. Check out his blog here