Will Beijing Be Ready for the Games?

In anticipation of the Summer Olympics this August, China's capital is pushing to complete construction projects to welcome millions of tourists

by Olga Kharif

Peering outside my hotel window, I saw a high crane balancing amid wires and concrete blocks like King Kong amid the ruins of New York. Except this wasn't New York. It was Beijing.

Yes, the skyline of China's ancient capital is now dominated by skyscrapers, most of them new. The city, which resembles one giant construction zone, and its 17 million residents are preparing to host the 2008 Summer Olympics this August. Blocks of crumbling old apartment buildings are getting demolished and replaced with new arenas, modern condos for athletes, expansive parks, and sparkling new hotels designed to hold millions of spectators—6.4 million visitors are expected. The Beijing Capital International Airport's modern Terminal 3—the world's largest airport terminal—opened for business in February. National Stadium, which locals have dubbed the "Bird's Nest" because it looks like a nest woven of steel, is getting finishing touches.

With August rapidly approaching, one could be forgiven for feeling skeptical that China will finish all these projects in the next four months, to say nothing of the likely level of quality of the projects that are completed. At the brand-new Best Western OL (Olympic) Stadium Hotel—built for the Olympics— where I stayed, the marble floors of the shower didn't appear inclined toward the drain, the toilet tended to get clogged, and the thermostat was apparently uninvolved in the cooling and heating of the room, which seemed to be operated centrally and maintained room temperatures at 80 to 85 degrees. Yes, it might be a good idea when booking to ask a hotel whether it offers individually controlled room temperatures.

Neither New Nor Old

That thermostat is the perfect metaphor for pre-Olympic Beijing: A city still hovering between the old, Communist Party and Western ways. Hotels offer CNN, but block CNN broadcasts on unrest in Tibet. The hotel's breakfast was a hodgepodge of Eastern (egg-flower soups) and Western (sausages and eggs) cuisine, and the French toast and coffee don't quite taste right. Many an American tourist in China runs for the Starbucks (SBUX); there are 62 in Beijing. One used to be located in the heart of the Forbidden City, a former imperial palace, but was closed last summer when the Chinese government took over all retail operations within the stately compound, where emperors, empresses, and concubines once spent their days. Most of the palace grounds have no trees, as emperors feared assassins hiding behind bushes.

A portrait of Mao Zedong still occupies an honored place at nearby Tiananmen Square, which at 100 acres is the world's largest urban square. When I was there in March, each entry point into the square, which became famous for 1989 student protests, was heavily guarded. Tourists eager to inspect the insides of a police station were advised to take pictures of protesters. We didn't see any, only a couple of kids flying multi-tiered kites. We, the Westerners, seemed to incite the most interest: Locals stopped and strained to hear our English. Half a dozen people asked a pretty girl from our group—18 garden-variety professionals and students from Portland, Ore.—to have her photo taken with them; cheerfully, she obliged.

Shopping for Bargains

The word "government" is mostly brandished by vendors trying to fleece tourists new to China. Take vendors at the Great Wall near Juyongguan Pass, about 37 miles from Beijing. Climbing this incredibly picturesque, uneven stairway winding up a beautiful hill, I stopped by a gift shop in a former guard tower where they were selling T-shirts declaring "Beijing 2008" and "I climbed the Great Wall." The shirts cost as much as they do in America. "Too much! Less?" I asked, pointing energetically to the floor. I don't know Mandarin.