Daegu, South Korea, Sept 4: Anti-government protests forced Yemeni hurdler Fatima Sulaiman Dahman to train indoors for six months before the world championships. And even then, she often practices alone because there are few other female athletes in the Muslim country.
Palestinian runner Bahaa al-Farra had to borrow a pair of spikes from his Omani roommate before his 400-meter race and lamented how he must train on a dirt track because there are no facilities in Gaza.
These are the athletes who often finish last in their qualifying heats and are overshadowed by stars like Usain Bolt and Yelena Isinbayeva. They don't come to Daegu to win gold, or even qualify for the semifinals. For most of the them, it's all about raising the profile of their countries, making friends and setting a personal best.
“I want to show I am here,” said Dahman, who finished last in her 400 hurdles heat in 1 minute, 11.49 seconds—a personal best but nearly 13 seconds behind the next slowest runner. “I know I can't win. But if I was training like the other athletes and had a good coach, I can do it. It's not impossible.”
For every athletic powerhouse like the United States, Jamaica or Russia, there is Indonesia, Nicaragua or Yemen. They are among the impoverished countries permitted to send a male and female athlete who otherwise wouldn't qualify for the worlds and often get one chance to perform on the big stage. The 100 is traditionally the most popular event and a few, like Indonesian sprinter Fadlin, who goes by one name, did advance past the preliminary round this week.
Although there are clear exceptions, like African long-distance runners, athletes from poor countries face a difficult task of beating their bigger and stronger Western counterparts. Often faced with minuscule budgets, political unrest at home and a culture that doesn't value athletics, they are forced to make due with inferior facilities. Forget personal trainers, nutritionists or state-of-the-art equipment like a cryogenic chamber. These guys are just happy to have a track to run on, a shot put to throw.
“We don't participate to be champions,” said Nabil Mabrouk, the president of the Palestinian Athletics Federation. “We have no budget. We have no facilities for track and field. My athlete runs on sand.”
Yemen possibly best exemplifies all the challenges facing these nations as they try to succeed at the worlds.
Already the poorest country in the Arab world, Yemen has been paralyzed for the past six months by protests aimed at ending President Ali Abdullah Saleh's 33 years in power. The crisis has sparked armed conflict between Saleh's forces and heavily armed tribesmen who have turned against him, further destabilizing a country that already was facing a growing threat from al-Qaida in the Arabian Peninsula.
“This year with all these problems, I couldn't do nothing,” said the 18-year-old Dahman, who said her time in Daegu was nine seconds worst than before the crisis. “I would go to the stadium (which was filled with protesters) and they would say it's closed. There are too many people inside.”
Even without the current crisis, Dahman faced hurdles that comes with living in a conservative Muslim country and not experienced by male teammate Nabil al-Garb. A daughter of two doctors who encouraged her to compete, Dahman faces a society that discourages women from taking up sports—al-Garb said he would oppose his sisters doing sports—and requires her to compete with a head scarf and trousers.
“There are differences between boys and girls in my country,” said Dahman, her brown eyes peaking out from her black head scarf. “He (al-Garb) can go to the stadium and train because he is a boy. I don't have any girls to push me. He has so many boys to push him.”
Al-Farra faces many of the same problems. But his troubles are compounded by Israel's blockade of Gaza that he said prevented him from leaving for a training camp in Europe four years ago and contributed to him not getting a visa to attend to the World Junior Championships in Canada last year.
“All the other Arab athletes, they talk to me about going to a training camp in Sweden, the United States,” said al-Farra, who said he lost a relative in an Israeli bombing and saw his father jailed for taking part in a protest. “If I could go to a training camp, I could break records and compete with the others. I want to be like them.”
Many federations from poor countries say they can only improve with increased domestic and foreign funding for athletics, in addition to what they get from the IAAF.
“We have some good sprinters but the problem is the quality of the training and the culture, the habit of the professional athletes,” Indonesian coach Boed Darma Sid said. “I have an athlete from Papua who ran 10.32 (in the 100) the past three months.
“But because he thought he was the best in Indonesia, he didn't keep to his training. Sometimes if I didn't come to the field, he is lazy and is in his room. Now, after two months, he ran 10.56. That is a cultural problem.”
But even with all the challenges, the athletes from these countries remain upbeat and insist they are not intimidated by Western athletes—many of whom they treat more like celebrities than competitors. When American gold medalist Dwight Phillips walked past, two Indonesian athletes paused to have their photo taken with him.
And even though they all were handily beaten, they will leave Daegu with valuable experience and the dream that one day they could win a medal.
“Of course,” Yemen coach Fouad Obad said, “we hope someday to raise our flag.” AP
