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Writer's picturePippa

Let the Games begin...again




Day 1:  The Opening Ceremonies for the Paralympic Games took place last night but I switched off the coverage halfway through so as to get to sleep early and be set for today. As I check in at my Volunteer Centre I’m also greeting the familiar faces of co-volunteers I got to know during round one and it all feels familiar. They have good coffee available too so I sip a cup before retrieving a welcome placard to greet my new “person” downstairs in the lobby. I’ll be accompanying the President (P) of the Indian Paralympic Committee.  Once I’m in the lobby I spot another volunteer holding up a sign for the Secretary-General (SG) of the same paralympic committee so I introduce myself to Uttam and we decide that the P and the SG will likely arrive together…as they do about 15 minutes later. They’re a pair so we’re a pair and it’ll be a change to have company. Somebody to wait with!  Off we go…first to badminton and then to archery. The traffic is heavier than it was during the Olympic Games. We’re going to have to leave more time to cross Paris from one event venue to the next. Our VIPs question us about the buildings along our route. Now I’m a tour guide in Paris! We end the day back at the hotel with a de-brief over a cup of coffee and it’s reassuring to be told we’ve exceeded their expectations. Same time tomorrow.

 

Day 2: Over breakfast for them,  coffee for us and a piece of watermelon that the SG insists I take, we plan out the day’s schedule. To  badminton again because an Indian is playing and once the SG and P are shown into the VIP tribunes,  Uttam sneaks us into the bleachers where I watch Thailand beat  Canada in a rousing wheelchair match. I’m contemplating the upper-body strength and co-ordination that’s required in order to keep a shuttlecock in play for an extended period while moving yourself around the court in a wheelchair. France beats India. Outside the venue, we’re introduced to the Indian Minister of Social Services. He can’t believe I’m nearly 72 and calls for a photo. Then we’re back at Invalides for the India vs Italy archery competition. I’ve graduated from hanging out in the volunteer lounges but I am not finding many pin trading opportunities as a result.

 

Day 3 and our people will be spending the day driving from Paris to Chateauroux where they’ll take in shooting competitions. It’s pouring rain in Paris and we have an unexpected day off. I take myself to the Museum of Decorative Arts.


Day 4: Sheer craziness as we speed from one venue to another. Maybe it’s to make up for yesterday’s holiday! Today it’s just Uttam, me and the SG as the P has moved into the quarters of Team India at the Athletes Village. The SG now has TWO personal assistants! For all the rules, it really seems up to individual venue management to enforce them.  Volunteers really aren’t allowed into the VIP tribunes but suddenly there I am at the Eiffel Tower venue watching Colombia score its one and only goal against Japan in Blind Football…what the French call cécifoot…much nicer I think. I am moved to tears, both by the skill  of the players in overcoming their handicap and the utter beauty of the makeshift stadium. It’s sobering to remember that the  football players can’t see the Eiffel Tower. Our next stop is the maze of South Paris Arena for ping pong and then women’s basketball where the wheelchair is  part of the players’ checking process. Players topple over and re-right  their chairs before racing to block an opponent’s passing shot.

 


Day 5:  Tell me why I don’t like Mondays….it’s Uttam’s “journée off”, I’m supposed to be meeting his replacement, Jean, at 9:30 am and at 9 am while checking in for my shift I realize I have left my phone re-charging next to my bed. I leave a message for Jean via my line manager and then I’m off (a one kilometer power walk to the metro, ride 4 metro stops, walk 500 metres then do it all in reverse)  and discover how really and truly sweat inducing our T-shirts are. Surprisingly we are ready to go at 10 am. It’s the first day of school and it takes forever to get anywhere by car. We were all issued with metro passes. It would be more sensible to use them now.

 

Day 6: It’s my day off and I luxuriate in having a day that involves no cars and no waiting around.  Something I notice here is that people transport things themselves on buses or in the metro. I saw a young woman in the metro one day with one of those bundle buggies full of different size pieces of wood. I think she’d had them cut to size and was bringing them home to build something. You see people waiting at bus stops with drying racks and cans of paint.  People will lug home groceries on foot  where in most North American cities a trip to the grocery store involves getting into a car.  Paris has an excellent transportation system and I get the impression that most city dwellers don’t have cars especially as garage space is at a premium.  



Day 7:  We’re back at South Paris Arena where the SG seems more interested in scoring used ping pong balls than watching the matches. We spend a lot of time in the athletes’ practice area and come away empty-handed but at least I’ve watched some outstanding players honing their game before match-time. Bly Twomey, Great Britain’s wunderkind table tennis athlete, is practising hard before heading to her match which is where, we later discover, she picks up a bronze medal. Then we seem to be going from one impromptu meeting to another with various members of the India delegation and I am so tired of the vehicle-packed périphérique, the Paris ring-road that links up all the various venues.



Day 8 and it is pouring rain as I make my way down Avenue des Ternes. At least my Vessi-clad feet stay dry because I’ve handed my volunteer running shoes over to the SG whose daughter wears the same size. One less thing to pack back to Canada. We drive to judo at the Grand Palais but we never get there because our volunteer driver can’t find the drop-off. If…in my perfect world…we had taken the metro…but it’s too late for that. We abandon central Paris, get back on the ring-road and drive out to north Paris to watch sitting volleyball. On the way, the SG wants to know why the driver, a retired airline pilot, isn’t married. The afternoon is spent at the athletes village where Uttam and I go exploring while we wait. I finally manage to trade for a  Greek Paralympics pin and then we find our way to the multi-faith quiet zone where each of the faith groups represented have established welcome spaces for peaceful reflection. Most of the facilities at the village are off limits to non-accredited persons (and quite rightly so) but the faith spaces are open to all. I’m contemplating Hindu statues when the temple assistant offers to tie a rakhi on my wrist. Her wishes for safety and serenity while she knots the cotton threads are a comfort…save me from the périphérique!



Day 9 and the rain has stopped. We drive out to Vaires-sur-Marne, the flat water racing area for rowing and kayak canoe events. Of course it’s a treat to spend time along the water and watch a few heats! We go to meet some of the India paddlers and their coach before driving back to the athletes’ village and a celebration because India has outdone its Paralympic target of 25 medals and won 26. By the final day they had won 27! Speeches and cheering are followed by photographs and some impromptu banghra. Then the chef de mission whisks us off to the village restaurant for a celebratory snack. This is my opportunity to see one more “off limits” area and I am impressed with the variety of foods on offer, the standard and the cleanliness of the athletes’ refectory. I enjoy a tasty fruit salad and an orange juice. Replenished, Uttam and I sign off for the day and walk to the metro.

 


Day 10: Today is our shopping day. This is when the SG is going to buy all the gifts he needs to take home. Uttam is going to try to work in some sightseeing because we’re actually taking the metro to run errands but I warn him that we shouldn’t over-plan when arrangements can change on a sudden whim…as they do. The shopping experience starts full of promise. After all, I’ve done this before back with Mr. S and his family during the Olympic games. But the SG isn’t Mr. S and within 15 minutes of being in Paris, the SG suddenly has to meet the Indian ambassador for a reception at the Athletes’ Village. We head to the hotel so the SG can change and while driving to the Village we’re told two things: 1. There’s a big mall near the Village where the SG can find everything he needs to buy and 2. The ambassador has cancelled the visit. But it takes at least another hour to leave the Village where we’ve picked up  3 more people who want to come shopping with us and then another hour to reach the big mall on a very crowded bus. It’s Saturday after all and the mall is packed with seething bodies. This is my idea of hell and I am a volunteer selected by the International Relations division of Paris 2024 because they believe I can cope. I know to keep smiling and nodding agreement.  We dodge buggies, cranky kids and stressed parents. I smile benignly.  I keep digging through piles of clothing selecting one size, discarding this colour, queuing to pay and all the while remembering we still have to get back on that bus and return to the Village.  Ahh that smile! I have not had lunch and it’s gone 4 pm. Smile some more.  My shift is up at 5 pm. I touch my rakhi and I smile. We’ll be OK. And today is my final day. Bigger smile.

 

 

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