The problem this time around was that there were pictures. Lots of them. Good lord and the videos. Beware of building 12 was the emailed mantra. After a while I wasn’t sure what id heard, read, or imagined. But I was doing race paced 300m in practice when it was two months past what would normally be the end of my season. So I was going to New Delhi. My coping mechanism was to think of it this way: countries are just saying those things to thin out the competition pool and maximize their medal haul. So, the best thing I could do was come prepared. And I was prepared…for a famine in the middle of nowhere more so than the CWG. I have enough supplies for a large family or a really tiny country. I had hand sanitizers, disinfectant (wipes and spray), pillow cases and sheets, blanket, dry food, snacks, towels… And that’s not all. But you get the point. I could open an infirmary. But that would be unnecessary, since there’s a polyclinic.

To date I haven’t eaten anything I brought. The food is good. There’s a track IN THE VILLAGE! That I’ve never experienced. I literally can roll out of bed, practice, then eat and repeat. I would’ve repeated, except it’s two months past the date that I should be doing any strenuous activity. This isn’t to say that there weren’t any glitches. Oh there were tons of glitches.

We got here and there was no way to turn of the air conditioners that were on full blast. Forgive me mother nature, but we had to sleep with the doors open (screens closed of course). No one warned me about the daily spray for mosquito and insects so woke up choking on fumes because of the open doors. Then there’s the dust…expected because we are occupying a construction zone. Phone and internet were not working, but they were working on it. There was (still isn’t) enough ice to take an ice bath. But a cool bath was still refreshing. There was a three day wait for massage because thee was only one therapist. I clean my room myself because I feel terrible seeing the woman as old as my grand mother on her knees wiping my floor. Judging from the other rooms, the younger cleaners weren’t up to the task anyways. There was a running joke that they were just redistributing muck instead of cleaning. I have heard stories about drivers leaving people stranded, apparently the 300rupees- about $7US- they’re (rumored) being paid wasn’t worth the complaining and harsh words. I’ve stood there in awe as one team leader (hint: manager from a team other than Guyana but stayed fairly close tom our building) ripped a volunteer a new orifice. On a visit to a local temple, I was push so hard I almost fell. I turned around and saw a man glaring at me. I thought ‘hatred…anger….displacement’.

It seems like a lot, but on the grand scheme of things it really isn’t. When putting on something of this scale, there will be no way to make everyone happy. I think what makes this different from other Games is that this one is littered with politics and conflicting interests by various groups.

Next episode: “Why I won’t suck popsicles in public anymore”

Maybe it was because they were directly quoting MY newspaper and making references to the article I was reading, maybe it was because I felt like I was now part of the train-wreck and was in a way responsible; that when one said to the other: “If it’s such a peaceful religion, why all the bombings? You don’t see Christians killing people”; I felt the need to interject.  So I said, “ignoring history creates the perfect environment for it to repeat itself”.  (My daddy has this way of starting conversations with sentences that belong in the middle somewhere.  He grabs your attentions, then starts from the beginning. I’ve tried this numerous times, like now, without achieving the same effect).  The other said to me “yes.  They’ve tried this before and it didn’t work.”

“That’s not what I meant.  I was referring to the inquisitions and other religious induced genocides. But now, Christianity, after committing mass murders is the religion of the world. The pope is one of the most powerful men in the world. Is it far-fetched that we’re going down that road again, just with a different religion this time?” One said I was what’s wrong with the world today, the other said even though I was obviously atheist, may god bless my heart.  The other passengers just glared.  It wasn’t my stop yet, but it was time for me to get off.

There’s no excuse for the loss of innocent lives. That will always be true.  In my opinion there’s never a reason to impose your beliefs on anyone else.  If their behavior doesn’t jeopardize yours in anyway, keep it moving.  Control what affects you and only you. No? Fort Hood was a tragedy.  Someone HAS to take responsibility.  I don’t know everything that happened. But I can wait for the FACTS; I have no need to rush to judgment.  Here are some facts:

So far it’s not been proven that Hassan has any terror affiliations.  He’s been victimized at work with anti-Muslim slurs and messages.  His car/property has been vandalized because of his religion. So far, it sounds like one man who was pushed beyond his breaking point.  I understand there’s a rush to fix what’s wrong and make him pay. Without the whole story, without really knowing the cause, can you really fix the real problem? Yet many people, people who should know better, are clamoring for action before getting the whole story.  Event he guy on “Meet the Press” said (and I paraphrase) “I don’t need to wait until the investigation. They let a terrorist in our camp.” Al Qeada and other extremists have yet to claim responsibility for Fort Hood

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Marlon Devonish

It was early July, 2004. We were coming from Greece, just laded in the airport in London.  I’d just ran close to my season’s best and personal record there.  He also did well (I think he may have won). We were on a shuttle on the way to baggage claim (standing room only), and at the risk of being dramatic…”then came the moment that changed my whole life”.  The car in from of us began driving erratically (later mentioned that the driver and passenger began fighting).  Our driver never responded, I suppose he thought they’d get their act together by the time we got there. They didn’t, and at the last minute, our driver slammed on the brakes.  The movement sent me flying into the metal rails in the window, luckily.  I say luckily because if those bars weren’t there, I would’ve gone through the wind shield.  I tried to be ok, but I wasn’t.  

After a few minutes of lying to everyone and myself saying that I was ok, it became impossible to walk.  Marlon offered to take me to a hospital, where I found out I had some bruised ribs (and minor whiplash, if ever such a thing).  He stayed with me (the other athletes had long gone home), telephoned the necessary people to let them know what happened, and helped arrange for me to go home for proper treatment.  On the way from the hospital, he took me to Nando’s.  If you know me, then you know how I feel about Nando’s.  That was huge.

Marlon didn’t get much sleep that day and a half, and he definitely didn’t have to do any of those things.  In all fairness, he wasn’t the only other person there.  This happened about 6 weeks before I was supposed to leave for the Olympics in Athens.  I spend few days with minimal movements, then a few weeks of pool workouts, and doing every exercise that didn’t require much arm movement.  When I got to Athens, I did some track workouts and tried to prepare mentally.  I ran 51.33 in the first round and 51.6 in the second (if I remember correctly).  I didn’t advance from there. 

Usually, if I see someone I know in heavy conversation with someone else, I’d leave them; talk to them another time.  Except Marlon.  I must speak to him whenever I see him, no matter what he’s doing, no matter what I’m doing.

Today I had a great workout session, and spent the rest of the day relaxing and socializing. So tonight I got into what I call a heated card game (spades) with some other athletes. I played about three games, and Dretti Bain (Bahamas) was my partner. We lost the first game, (and I refuse to say to who), but they had to leave, so we played a second game.  We won that, and were challenged by Bershawn Jackson and Nate DaGreat Bahamian.  At this point, Dretti and I had our system set, we noticed patterns in each other’s game, we thought we were good to go. Right.  When Bershawn sat down, he said to me: I’m going to teach you how to play this game. I love a challenge, so I just smiled and kept it moving. But he never shut up.  Once, he showed me all his cards, then captivated me with some colorful story that had nothing to do with anything; by the time he was done I forgot every card he showed me.  He talked the whole game, and I couldn’t get my thoughts together, much less vibe with my partner.  They beat us so badly that I petitioned for that deck of cards to be thrown out. I demand a rematch… But first, I must sleep!

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