"I Love the Olympics!"
On my brief tour of a Stone Age Site outside the town of my rural Tanzania, I got in a brief conversation with the tour guide about the Olympics. "So, have you watched the Olympics?" I casually quipped. The nonchalant question quickly brought excitement to the otherwise professional guide who, before this, had kept the conversation strictly focused on the history of the area, reputedly one of the earliest residences of modern man's direct ancestor, Homo Erectus. "Yes, yes, I love watching the Olympics!" The guide cannot hide his enthusiasm.
"You know, I love watching the running [events] in the Olympics," the guide continued, making hand gestures of a runner as we walked through the rather barren landscape of the Stone Age Site. "The Kenyans and Ethiopians are especially very strong," he added without much hesitation. This last statement was rather surprising. Regional rivalries among neighboring countries are not unheard of here in East Africa, particularly in the sphere of economic development. With many local media sources using other African states for often pride-laden comparison, it is rather refreshing to see support for the same states in sports.
And within the excitable words of the tour guide, it is hard to dismiss a sense of ethnic pride. This part is not at all surprising. Africans will cheer for other Africans, just as I cheer for ethnic Chinese and ethnic Asians everywhere. After all, the modern Olympics has become centered on ethnic or nationalistic prowess expressed in athletic abilities. For a country like Tanzania, which has not won a single medal since 1980, support for the collective strength of the African people, no matter what is their country of representation, logically becomes paramount when watching the Olympics.
But unfortunately, it seems few people here in rural Tanzania share the excitement of the tour guide for the Olympics. A quick glance at the local newspapers of the past shows that none of them cover the Olympics in the frontpage headlines. Live coverage of the Olympics here were few and far in between, given the massive time difference with where the Olympics were held. And even when Olympics is telecasted, the coverage is usually on cable TV stations, a luxury that few rural Tanzanian families here can afford and sees any point making economic sacrifices for.
It is a reflection of competitive sports as a monopoly of rich countries. Training professional athletes simply cost too much money: the uniforms, the facilities, and the logistics of sending them to faraway lands for competitions. Such costs are something that only a few rich countries can invest in a massive scale. And "sports culture," habitual participation in organized sports of any sort, is but a lofty, unrealistic dream for people who need to spend most of their time making ends meet. In such an environment, even the most talented athletes will not make it to the international level.
If one understands such background, it is not surprising that few people from underdeveloped countries show excitement for the Olympics or any international sporting events aside from the World Cup. Seeing all the rich countries grab all the medals become painful reminders of how those countries have structures and systems in places to turn raw talent into athletic prowess, and how the same talent in a poor country will never amount to anything. The government knows the shortcoming as well, as illustrated by the fact that few countries on this continent assign propaganda values to success in sports.
Sure, in recent years, the International Olympic Committee (IOC) has gone to great lengths to make developing countries feel included. More developing countries, like China in 2008 and Brazil in 2016, are hosting the Olympics, and more developing countries are bidding to host despite failures. Yet any positive outcomes of such efforts remain restricted to a few large developing countries marked by relatively high growth in the economy, political importance, or at the very least, sporting competence. None of these criteria fit Tanzania.
Interest in sports still exists, however, as the tour guide at the Stone Age Site shows so vividly. There just is not enough positive outcomes to channel such excitements. Maybe the IOC can help fund scouting and training for sporting talents in underdeveloped countries, using funds obtained from massive commercial incomes of highly spectated events like the Olympics. But in international sports competitions, where larger audiences mean larger revenues and nationalism trumps all forms of "athletic globalism," it is hard to see anyone willing to invest in a country where few people can afford to play or watch others play.
"You know, I love watching the running [events] in the Olympics," the guide continued, making hand gestures of a runner as we walked through the rather barren landscape of the Stone Age Site. "The Kenyans and Ethiopians are especially very strong," he added without much hesitation. This last statement was rather surprising. Regional rivalries among neighboring countries are not unheard of here in East Africa, particularly in the sphere of economic development. With many local media sources using other African states for often pride-laden comparison, it is rather refreshing to see support for the same states in sports.
And within the excitable words of the tour guide, it is hard to dismiss a sense of ethnic pride. This part is not at all surprising. Africans will cheer for other Africans, just as I cheer for ethnic Chinese and ethnic Asians everywhere. After all, the modern Olympics has become centered on ethnic or nationalistic prowess expressed in athletic abilities. For a country like Tanzania, which has not won a single medal since 1980, support for the collective strength of the African people, no matter what is their country of representation, logically becomes paramount when watching the Olympics.
But unfortunately, it seems few people here in rural Tanzania share the excitement of the tour guide for the Olympics. A quick glance at the local newspapers of the past shows that none of them cover the Olympics in the frontpage headlines. Live coverage of the Olympics here were few and far in between, given the massive time difference with where the Olympics were held. And even when Olympics is telecasted, the coverage is usually on cable TV stations, a luxury that few rural Tanzanian families here can afford and sees any point making economic sacrifices for.
It is a reflection of competitive sports as a monopoly of rich countries. Training professional athletes simply cost too much money: the uniforms, the facilities, and the logistics of sending them to faraway lands for competitions. Such costs are something that only a few rich countries can invest in a massive scale. And "sports culture," habitual participation in organized sports of any sort, is but a lofty, unrealistic dream for people who need to spend most of their time making ends meet. In such an environment, even the most talented athletes will not make it to the international level.
If one understands such background, it is not surprising that few people from underdeveloped countries show excitement for the Olympics or any international sporting events aside from the World Cup. Seeing all the rich countries grab all the medals become painful reminders of how those countries have structures and systems in places to turn raw talent into athletic prowess, and how the same talent in a poor country will never amount to anything. The government knows the shortcoming as well, as illustrated by the fact that few countries on this continent assign propaganda values to success in sports.
Sure, in recent years, the International Olympic Committee (IOC) has gone to great lengths to make developing countries feel included. More developing countries, like China in 2008 and Brazil in 2016, are hosting the Olympics, and more developing countries are bidding to host despite failures. Yet any positive outcomes of such efforts remain restricted to a few large developing countries marked by relatively high growth in the economy, political importance, or at the very least, sporting competence. None of these criteria fit Tanzania.
Interest in sports still exists, however, as the tour guide at the Stone Age Site shows so vividly. There just is not enough positive outcomes to channel such excitements. Maybe the IOC can help fund scouting and training for sporting talents in underdeveloped countries, using funds obtained from massive commercial incomes of highly spectated events like the Olympics. But in international sports competitions, where larger audiences mean larger revenues and nationalism trumps all forms of "athletic globalism," it is hard to see anyone willing to invest in a country where few people can afford to play or watch others play.
Comments
Post a Comment