Olympics at Art’s, through the eyes of a native son

By Jacob Wheeler
Sun editor
For most of us, the Beijing Olympics earlier this month represented a spectacle happening a world away. Lost somewhere over 12 time zones was any sense of familiarity (and a television delay meant that anyone with Internet access already knew which record American übermensch swimmer Michael Phelps was about to break). Compound that with runners wearing masks, gymnasts barely out of middle school, and opening ceremonies that focused not on the hero but on the strength of many — a Communist nation of a billion people all raising their arms in unison.

Chengqi Wang didn’t feel the same sense of puzzled intrigue, though. Chengqi, a 24-year-old student at Northwest Michigan College (NMC) in Traverse City, lives with his mother, registered nurse Qian Welch, in Empire. They hail from Szechuan Province, the region in western China that was devastated by an earthquake on May 12. Fortunately, everyone in the family is alive and well.
If you stopped by Art’s Tavern for a cold one during an evening in mid-August, you likely saw Chengqi, one of the fulltime cooks at Art’s, emerge from the kitchen after the dinner rush ended to watch the Olympic games on one of the bar’s televisions. Meanwhile, on the other side of the globe, athletes from the People’s Republic of China were easily eclipsing the United States in the gold medal count. (Many speculate that, economically, and maybe politically, this new century will belong to the Chinese, and not the Americans.)
It goes without saying that Chengqi was ecstatic about the Beijing Olympics. “It’s a huge event in China, so I’m proud of it,” he said. “We held the world’s attention, and Chinese teams [did] very well.” Chengqi says he watched the games every single day, and was especially excited for the gymnastics and diving events. His only lament was that he was able to watch the Olympics on only three American television channels — not enough, he said. And that Chengqi’s favorite athlete, Liu Xiang, the gold medal winner in the 110-meter hurdles at the 2004 Athens Olympics, left the games suddenly after a leg industry on August 18.
Anyone who played table tennis at the Glen Arbor Town Hall on Wednesdays over the winter, and fell prey to Chengqi’s wicked shots, can attest to his love for Chinese sports. No gold medals were presented at the Town Hall, but if they were, it’s safe to say the young man from Szechuan would have stood tallest on the medal stand.
When Chengqi first arrived in our neck of the woods two and a half years ago from Chengdu, the capital of Szechuan and home to 11 million, he was initially surprised at the lack of people. “I thought there was nothing — no people here,” he laughed. After a year he got used to it, and now Chengqi raves at the friendliness of the locals and the beautiful view. “This place is perfect.” This fall Chengqi will take accounting, geography and computer classes at NMC. He plans to stick around for another year, and then study international business at Michigan State University in the fall of 2009.
Chengqi works five-six nights a week at Art’s, typically from 5 p.m. to 3 a.m. (and pulled a few shifts this summer at the Beach Club at The Homestead resort) He began working at the local tavern as dishwasher, and became a cook the following one. When I asked Chengqi what he likes best about working at Art’s, he joked, “I … no … English!” The first year was rough, he attests, because he didn’t yet speak the lingua franca. His job was to make salads, but he didn’t know the English words for “cucumber, tomatoes, carrots,” and the like. Art’s owner Tim Barr (and Glen Arbor’s unofficial mayor) took Chengqi under his wing, and after about a year, the Szechuan native felt comfortable. He knew enough slang to get around, and he could adeptly pronounce the word “cucumber.”
Since this is our Labor Day issue, I asked Chengqi how he thought blue-collar workers are treated in America, and specifically in this local glitzy, tourism economy. Chengqi admitted that he doesn’t see Labor Day as a celebration of workers. But, he added, “no matter what kind of job you’re doing, whether its professional and you make lots of money, or whether you’re a dishwasher, you’re contributing to society.” Before coming to the United States, Chengqi worked at a secondary school, managing a high school gym. “That job was very relaxing … here it’s more work.” At Art’s, where the summertime dinner rush lasts from 5-7 p.m. and the cooks don’t stop to breathe during that time, Chengqi told me he makes five-six times more money than he did in China, and three times more money in the wintertime.
What’s the toughest part about being here? Chengqi has been dating his girlfriend, Penny, in a long-distance relationship for about a year. She’ll soon begin her studies, but at a Chinese university. They communicate once a day, over the phone and the Internet.
Chengqi was home in Empire, talking on the telephone with Penny after working a late night at Art’s, when the earthquake hit last May. “She sounded scared,” he remembers. “The building began shaking, and the phone disconnected. I called back, but there was no signal. I couldn’t talk to any of my family members in China. The connection didn’t return for 24 hours.”
He couldn’t sleep, so he tracked news on the Internet and learned of the earthquake that registered almost 8 on the Richter Scale. “My entire family lives in the earthquake area. But 24 hours later I found out that everyone was OK.
“They lived for two weeks camping in the street [because of fears of aftershocks]. The government brought them food and water. Once they went back to their house, they found the TV, the computer and doors were all broken. There was a big crack through the wall, and furniture was turned upside down. Luckily, experts told them the house was OK, so they moved back in.
“Everyone in their community stuck together, delivered water and food. I was very touched.”
I couldn’t let Chengqi go without asking for his opinion on the political controversies surrounding the Beijing Olympics: the Chinese government’s repression of activists, journalists, Tibet, the Falun Gong, and its refusal to use its economic or political clout to stop the genocide in Darfur (the Sudanese government is all but armed by the Chinese). As a developing country, and one that is just now lifting the veil of Communism, Chengqi admitted that China has much to work out, and things are changing there at a rapid pace. But he quickly returned to the Olympics, what journalists have called “China’s coming out party.”
“People ask me, ‘do you root for China or America?’ Of course I root for China, my people.”