Columnist and internet pundit Kaiser Kuo, a long-time Beijing resident bracing for the arrival of 30,000 journalists for the Olympics, has drawn up a fun list of tired old phrases the media should avoid while in Beijing.

Any other suggestions for tired and overused phrases about China? Let us know in the comments… and if you spot any in the media please send in a link. We’re quite prepared to name and shame. 

Amid the frantic beautification efforts in the run-up to the Games’ Aug. 8 start, some Beijing neighbourhoods have gone through amazing transformations — sometimes literally overnight — so that the city can put its best face forward.

My own neighbourhood near Workers Stadium, where some soccer events will be held, is one that has received special attention.

When I first arrived two years ago, the sidewalks in some areas were treacherous, dirt piles butted up against sheets of metal that in turn hid piles of bricks and steel beams and pipes.

One day, I awoke to see a team of 50 or more workmen stretched along the length of my street, each armed with a shovel and digging a meter-deep trench where a gas pipe would later be buried.

I marvelled that at home the work would have been done by one or two workers with a decent-sized backhoe. An authoritarian country of 1.3 billion people can mobilise its workforce like no other.

On another occasion, after returning from a week’s holiday, the entire street had new stone curbs, fresh pavement and scores of mature trees that suddenly towered overhead, offering welcome shade from the powerful sun. In a flash, the neighbourhood had the feel of one that might take decades to take shape.

Further improvements were to come. Bushes, flowers, landscaped lawns, more flowers, more huge tress propped up with poles because a strong wind might overpower the grip of the tightly clipped root ball.

A narrow-alley “hutong” residential area was torn down to become a lovely grass-covered park, while its residents were scattered to look for new homes. Then — stranger still — the park was turned into an asphalt-covered parking lot for buses that will bring athletes or spectators to the Workers Arena.

Sometimes the improvements are only skin deep, a sort of Potemkin village approach, such as the new paint brushed only on the street side of building walls. Walk a few steps down one of the lanes, though, and little has changed.

Particularly striking is a cluster of four or five soaring new office towers, technically finished ahead of the construction deadlines. They still sit empty, but the sheen is already tarnished after a slapdash effort to beautify the grounds in front brought truckloads of dirt, bushes and fresh sod.

Now the sidewalk already bends and buckles, and the hastily planted bushes are left jutting out of the ground at odd angles.

There’s a feeling that some of this hurried preening is a bit “chabuduo“, Chinese for “almost” or “lacking something”. I hope more care was given to the actual construction.

Still, I’m caught up in the spirit of optimistic expectation. And I’m sure my neighbourhood will seem a bit drab once the Games are over and the crews take down the ornamental red lanterns that hang from lamp posts, adding a splash of welcome colour on days when the sky still lingers a dusty grey.

PHOTO: Workers build an Olympic exhibit at Tiananmen Square, July 23,2008. REUTERS/Jason Lee

While based in China as a chief photographer in the early 1990s I had the good fortune to make the acquaintance of a sports journalist and in turn an entire family with a remarkable basketball legacy. So much so that official government film documentaries were produced highlighting their sporting achievements. Aunts, uncles, nephews, nieces have all competed at college level, professionally or on a national team.

My journalist friend’s accomplishments were impressive. Starting at the age of 2-1/2 her parents had to place her, for the next three years, in the national sports committee’s boarding kindergarten. It was a place where China’s sporting elite could leave their children while they competed for the Party and national pride.

With few options available my friend was separated from her family again at age 11 to enter into the government’s athlete mill. Gruelling workouts, stark living conditions, military-style coaching were all in a day’s work. She spent her entire teens and early 20s being honed into a world class athlete. Looking to finally wrap up her career, the sports committee eventually, but reluctantly, permitted her to leave the game. She left with five national basketball championships to her credit.

Heading this family dynasty were two towering and statuesque brothers, Ju Fen Geng and the younger Ju Fen Kang, who were members of China’s first national team formed post-1949. They were so striking in appearance that they could easily have been the inspiration for the valorous, chisel-jawed comrades overcoming adversity in the ubiquitous propaganda posters of the Communist era. The brothers criss-crossed the Soviet-bloc and socialist countries of Europe proudly representing the People’s Republic throughout the 50s. Their journals overflow with black and white photographs of the smartly dressed young men visiting and competing in places that were strictly off limits to the West during the depths of the Cold War.

In 1956 the younger brother had been selected to the Olympic basketball team to compete in Melbourne. Uniforms, jerseys and suits had already been issued – personally approved by Premier Zhou Enlai himself. The team’s roster had even been published in the press. With weeks to go and while finalising their training in Guangdong province the team were notified that China had pulled out of the Games in protest at the inclusion of the Republic of China. His Olympic dream had been dashed. Following their playing careers the two brothers went on to enjoy success as coaches at the national and professional levels.

The journalist used the strength of body and mind she acquired in the Chinese sports system to become a PGA golf professional. Sadly, the older brother Ju Fen Geng passed away in 2006 but the younger Ju Fen Kang will soon realise his dream of attending the Olympics - as a spectator in Beijing. Accompanying him to the basketball venue will be family members including his daughter Ju Dan (the journalist) and her 3-year-old son, to watch China’s present day superstars like Yao Ming and Yi Jianlian battle the world.

I too will be attending the 2008 Olympics but from behind the scenes with Reuters as a photo editor, firmly tucked away in the main press center. I’ll be busy editing through thousands of daily images along with my colleagues so will be unable to join them at the basketball. However I will be relatively close by, feeling very honoured to be a part of this remarkable family. And if you haven’t guessed, I married that journalist (right).

Pictures from top:  Ju Fen Kang (R) shakes hands with Chinese Premier Zhou Enlai after the team defeated Czechoslovakia in Beijing in this 1956 family handout photo. Chinese national basketball team members Ju Fenkang (3rd L), Yang Buo Yong (L) and Wang Yi Cheng pose with East German players in East Berlin in this 1955 family handout photo. The team was in East Berlin to train with the East German team. Ju Fen Kang (standing 3rd R) and members of China’s 1956 Olympic basketball team pose in their newly issued Olympic uniforms in Guangzhou, Guangdong province in this 1956 family handout photo. And my wife Ju Dan. 

With China vying to topple the Americans from the top of the Olympic medals table, it got me thinking about the Chinese national anthem.

It’s always a moving moment after any final to see the winner trying to hold in the tears and sing along with gusto on the podium as their country’s flag is hoisted.

We can all hum along to the “Star-Spangled Banner” of the United States and “Advance Australia Fair” and probably take a fair stab at the anthems of Russia, Britain, France and Germany as the opening notes strike up.

But what about China’s? I confess I couldn’t even guess where to start.

It seems I’m not the only one left scratching my head. When Liu Xiang received his gold medal for the 60 metre hurdles during the world indoor championships in Valencia in March, organisers inadvertently played Chile’s anthem instead of China’s.

So, a swift Internet search later and here it is. 

China finished second in the table in Athens in 2004, with 32 golds compared to 36 for the United States. With the boost of hosting the Games and the massive investment in elite sport in China, the race to be top of the table is sure to be close this year so we’re bound to hear the Chinese anthem a lot.

No doubt we’ll be humming along too by the time the Games’ closing ceremony rolls around on Aug. 24.

By Mike Fiala

The biggest international sporting event Beijing and China hosted prior to the Olympics was the 1990 Asian Games. China dominated the medal count, winning almost twice as many as their nearest rival.

And Pan Pan, the game’s Panda mascot, was everywhere. One of the official sponsors distributed Pan Pan decals to the media showing the official mascot in various XI Asiad sporting poses such as boxing, archery, wrestling, etc. With a little imagination, and a pair of scissors, people would remove Pan Pan’s head and apply the mascot’s sporting themes to their credential photo.

I took it one step further and placed Pan Pan’s head right over my mugshot. I was fully expecting someone to ask me to remove it but to my surprise, officials found it rather amusing and I passed through security checkpoints without problem. In all fairness though, security did recognize me. Even Xinhua news agency asked me to pose for a picture and I was dubbed the “Panda Reporter” in the press. I’ll be on the lookout for some Olympic Fuwa mascot stickers this August but something tells me that we won’t be allowed to do the same.

First the Chinese authorities provided foreigners with a list of dos and don’ts for when they visit the games. Now Human Rights Watch has got into the act, providing foreign journalists with its own booklet giving advice on how to report out of China.

The Reporters’ Guide gives useful information on what do if police detain you (don’t hit them), what to do if your reporting rights are not respected (complain) and what to do to prevent anyone snooping on your stories or emails (one suggestion — use gmail and add an ’s’ at the end of http in the URL).

When China was awarded the Games it promised media the same freedom to report as they had enjoyed at previous Olympics. Perhaps Beijing thought only statistics-obsessed sports hacks would turn up, but if so they are likely to be disappointed with journalists from around the world preparing to descend on China in the coming weeks, many of them planning to follow everything but the athletes.

Human Rights Watch believes the “freedom to report” message has not filtered down to zealous security staff, who are unused to the nosey habits of foreign media. To help convince local officialdom that visitors can indeed talk to just about anyone they want to during the games, the booklet even prints out in Chinese the temporary regulations that give the 21,600 accredited reporters the right to rove.

That said, the main message for visitors is not to get the locals into trouble and even recommends that correspondents change the names of any Chinese dissidents they might interview to prevent unwelcome attention from the police once the media circus has moved on.

“One thing is certain, all the foreigners will be able to leave China after the games, but the locals who help them won’t be able to go anywhere,” said Human Rights Watch media director, Minky Worden.

The HRW booklet can be downloaded on its website http://www.hrw.org/.

 Pix from top: Journalists and visitors stand outside the Beijing Olympics Main Press Centre (MPC) during its opening in Beijing July 8, 2008. The building, including the International Broadcast Centre, on the Olympic Green will house the 21,600 media accredited to the Games with up to 10,000 more unaccredited reporters being catered for at the Beijing International Media Centre. A journalist works at the Main Press Workroom of Beijing Olympics Main Press Centre (MPC) during its opening in Beijing July 8, 2008. (Snaps by Claro Cortes IV). Picture of media at a Yao Ming news conference in Beijing on June 26 by David Gray.

By Kitty Bu

For many of the tourists expected to descend on Beijing for next month’s Olympics, an authentic Chinese home may be where the heart is. Beijing has recruited over 1,000 households to provide rooms during the Games. Like all other aspects of the Olympics, the “home stay” experience is regulated, with officials inspecting the ventilation, lighting, sanitary conditions, fire safety, bathroom facilities, location, transportation — and even the family pets. Other requirements include the “Olympic families” dressing appropriately, having good manners and basic Olympic knowledge, as well as the willingness to act as tour guides.

The restrictions have not put off film critic Zhao Jing, who has decided to rent out her own bedroom to help visitors make the most of their China stay. And she’s already got her tourist — a German man. “Because of globalisation, young people’s lifestyles are becoming more and more similar,” Zhao reckons. “This friend is coming to China to experience the country’s authentic culture. He wants to have a similar lifestyle to Chinese people. He wants to know how Chinese eat, drink. All I need to do is to show him how I live.”

The 1,000 rooms with “Olympic families” are to supplement the city’s 220,000 beds in 806 star-rated hotels, as, according to officials, supply may still fall short of demand, especially close to the sports venues. Tourism officials said homestay rooms will cost between $50 and $80 a night.

But retired school teacher Yuan Xiaoqing, who is offering rooms in her nine-bedroom apartment, is happy to charge just $15 for a place to stay, three meals a day and the chance to go on hiking tours with the family to the Great Wall and other sites. Yuan has hosted foreign visitors before, and said she liked the experiencing new cultures without leaving home. Even so, she’s preparing herself for culture shock. “Foreign students like to stay out all night on the weekend. But in more intellectual and traditional Chinese households, there is no way the kids would go out like that.”

Seeing an opportunity, many companies have set up websites to match families with prospective visitors, who then pay them a day’s rent for their services. Jake Cooke, who runs chinahomestay, says many companies are pushing up prices to unrealistic levels which he says are unlikely to last. “I think even the hotels that have tried to raise the rates, they’re just not having the bookings that they expected to. People of course can raise the rates a bit, but 500 percent is extremely unreasonable. They’re just not going to be able to sell those rooms,” he reckons.

Pix from top:  A man walks in his courtyard garden inside a traditional alleyway, or hutong, in central Beijing. A man stands at the entrance of his house in central Beijing )snaps by Jason Lee). Tourists at the Temple of Heaven in Beijing (by Claro Cortes IV).

A German water polo player who had earlier this year floated the idea of his team wearing orange robes a symbolic protest at the Olympics against China’s Tibet has changed his mind, saying the Tibet issue is far too complex and that he knows too little about China to organise such a demonstration.

Soeren Mackeben, 29, told Der Spiegel news magazine this week:  “I’ve become more sceptical towards all sides in the meantime.” Mackeben had first proposed wearing the orange robes — the same colour as the Tibetan monks — in an interview in March.   

“I was asking during an interview about the events in Tibet what sort of protest I could envision and that’s when I mentioned the robes,” Mackeben said. “That naturally had quite an echo in the media. In the meantime, I’ve learned that the issue is too complex to take a clear position on it.”

Mackeben said he did not know enough about China, even after studying the issue and paying a visit to China’s ambassador to Germany in Berlin.

“I spent an hour asking the ambassador questions,” Mackeben said. “Afterwards they gave me two bags filled with books. I’ve become too sceptical to put an orange robe one. I want to concenrate on water polo. It’s going to be very difficult to get a glimpse into how China really is.”

Picture of Soeren Mackeben (R) celebrating a goal at the FINA Men’s Water Polo Olympic Games Qualification Tournament by Sergio Moraes.  

That security would be ramped up in China before the Beijing Olympics was to be expected and is entirely normal.

My abiding memory of the 2002 Winter Olympics in Salt Lake City – just a few months after the September 11 terrorist attacks on the U.S. — is of removing and putting back on my heavy winter boots several times a day at security checkpoints.

The experience of my wife and son at Qingdao airport yesterday, however, suggests that even security precautions can sometimes go a little too far.

After spending a couple of days at the seaside in the city that will host the sailing for the Beijing Games next month, three-year-old Max had packed his bucket and spade along with other favourite toys in a little plastic suitcase for the journey back to the Chinese capital.

Having successfully negotiated the metal detector, he was with his mother waiting for the bags to reappear from the X-ray machine.

“You have a weapon,” the female security guard said to my wife.

Sal, I must stress, is largely a law-abiding citizen of the People’s Republic and has no previous record of involvement with gun-running or hijacking. She adopted the internationally-understood facial expression for confusion.

“You have a weapon,” the security guard repeated and, as if to clarify, pointed at a poster on the wall that pictured an array of hand guns and an AK-47. “We have seen it.”

Still confused, Sal opened Max’s suitcase for inspection. 

Casting aside the Woody and Buzz Lightyear action figures, the Kung Fu Panda DVD and several Disney-themed colouring books, the guard seized upon Max’s bright red and orange plastic water pistol, raising it triumphantly into the air.

“You cannot have this,” she said with a certainty that brooked no argument.

Not wanting to upset Max before the flight, Sal gestured for the guard to quickly put the 10 yuan toy out of sight, which she did. 

The skies above China were safe once again. 

Picture of an unorthodox police drill in Taiyuan this week by REUTERS/stringer 

Photographer David Gray took his weekly trip down to the Bird’s Nest today and fortunately after couple of horribly polluted days, the skies were relatively clear. 

On top of the ’nest’ he captured this inflatable structure.

The stadium is now effectively shut down to visitors because of the secrecy surrounding the preparations for the opening ceremony, which everyone is expecting to be a spectacular affair.   

Could this could be something to do with that? Or a security tent? Or the mother of all bouncy castles? 

Picture by David Gray, who else?