Olympic Hangover

To talk of anything else today would be ludicrous.  I call North Vancouver home and for the past 17 days there has been nothing else in B.C. besides the Olympic Winter Games.  We’ve been glued to the tv, out in the streets en masse, 25,000 of us have been volunteering for Vanoc – we’ve been completely and utterly captivated by this wee sporting event.

Early on we were taking a beating – mostly in the British press – for the weather, the failed fourth caldron in B.C. Place and our controversial ‘Own The Podium’ initiative.  Some of the criticism was well deserved while some of it was merely grumbling by those who make their living findian fault where there is none.

Since late last week the debate has turned in our favour; were these, media outlets wondered, the best games ever?  Certainly for Canadian athletes and fans that is the case.  While the medal total, golds in particular, hit a high water mark, other measures make the case more strongly.  Never have we as Canadians been so confident, so cohesive, so proud and so unapologetic.  We’ve changed since the last time the games were held here, and with the eyes of the world peering down upon us that change has become been revealed to us.

Vancouver hosted The World’s Fair – Expo – in 1986.  Expo lasted all summer and in three months it transformed what was an industrial wasteland into one of North America’s most vibrant neighbourhoods, now known as Yaletown.  Vancouver went from being a provincial backwater to an emerging city that had the potential to become something all its own.

That experience has made us aware that an event really can alter a city’s course – and we have changed.  I’ve been scratching my head about this. It seems counterintuitive.  How can two weeks reroute a city as large and diverse as Vancouver?  We talk about what a great place this is and how we love it here, but Vancouver hasn’t been without its faults.  Newcomers say it’s hard to gain entry, that friends are hard to come by.  Many neighbourhoods lack the friendliness small towns or even suburban zones.  It’s true, we’re a little cold, we can grumble about our lot and we sometimes are just a touch arrogant.

Or are we?  During the Olympics the spontaneous Oh Canada has been a regular occurence.  The shared experience of the games has lead strangers to strike up conversations and the citizenry has let down its guard.  After today’s fanfrickingtastic hockey game complete strangers were hugging and fiving in the streets all evening.  For a lifelong Vancouverite it was a wonder to behold

What has happened then? Have we changed or have these games made us realize who we really are?  Are we the type to talk to strangers?  Maybe we didn’t know it.  This exuberant collective experience has perhaps made us realize who we’ve been all along.  Our moody, suspicious provincial undergarments are beginning to chafe and itch.  Maybe we’ve needed someting a little more comfortable.  With a little luck, the 5-ring circus has allowed us to shake off the wary cynicism that helped west coast pioneers survive.

It turns out we’ve grown into