About a month ago I felt I was coming out of the fog, which has been hanging over me for so long it was hard to remember life before it. I had about a week of clarity, and then got a cold and I was back in the fog again. But at least I realised I was in it, and worked to find my way out. Life is just plain difficult in the fog. Motivation to do anything much is fleeting.
Mark and I were just talking about it the other day, as we drove through broken streets, noticing gaps and buildings being demolished. I wish I could wake up and it was all a dream. Mark thinks it is like having been away from Christchurch, and wishes he could go back. But it isn’t a dream and the Christchurch we knew is no longer. We can’t go back.
The traffic is very sad. It takes me twenty minutes to bike to work. With no traffic it takes about seven minutes in the car. One day I left for work soon after 8:00am and it took forty minutes to get to work. I was in a line, just about the entire journey. Consequently I now take the bike unless I have to carry stuff or it is raining.
The roads out east are so bumpy. It is even tiring just driving over them, and you have to be alert all the time, particularly at night.
I wonder when you stop feeling damaged? I feel damaged a lot of the time, and I wasn’t even in a very traumatic situation like many. I think I feel the pain of the city, to a small degree. It is a collective ache. Mark went back to the Palms, a shopping mall near us that has finally opened after being broken in the February quake. He said it was like a piece of familiarity back again, and found it like coming home. I wonder when there will be an edition of the Press that does not mention the earthquake. I wonder when the aftershocks will stop. I wonder if it will ever really be over in my lifetime.
A friend told me today about her experiences in Australia. They left Christchurch and their damaged home soon after the February quake, as had previously been arranged, but found it very difficult as people didn’t know what to say, and she felt they were avoiding her. There was no-one to talk to about it.
Mark now works in the Central Red Zone from time to time. He finds it quite unnerving as it is so flat and empty. There are almost whole blocks with all the buildings removed. Makes surveying more straightforward without the buildings and traffic getting in the way. Also the buildings are often as they were left on the day of the quake, with office equipment sitting idle, jackets draped over chairs etc.
I have finally removed all that I want from my old office. We have had fairly free access over the last two weeks to sort our stuff for storage, taking home or disposal. Most of mine will be disposed of. I found it challenging to start with, but walking away from an office full of paper that I no longer need is strangely liberating. I hadn't realised how much I had been dreading that until it was over and the weight was lifted off me. At one point we needed some kind of trolley so I went scavenging along the corridor. The smell at one point was pretty dire; we suspect someone was foolish enough to open a bottle of milk. Or else it blew up. I found a trolley and useful boxes, felling like someone out of a post-apocalyptic television series.
Sunday, 11 September 2011
Friday, 8 July 2011
Earthquake update for June 2011
The earthquakes pervade every part of our lives. I wonder when I will go for a day without thinking about or mentioning the earthquake. It is hard to imagine at present, when so little is unaffected.
The big after-shocks on the 13th June have set people back. It is as if we have lost a lot of resilience. I had a week or so of feeling down. I just felt sad and didn’t really want to do anything. It all seems so hard. Everything is hard, and for some people it is extremely hard. I decided to accept that these quakes aren’t going anywhere soon. There will be more.
Jessica and I took a fruit loaf and visited our Relief Society President, Jacquie Taleni and shovelled silt for the afternoon. There were friends and neighbours there, and the missionaries, and a student from the other side of town, who just turned up to help. Getting there was hazardous – there was so much mud and silt and stones, and water, that I wondered if I would even make it without a 4WD. The silt was wetter this time around, so started slumping down into the gutters. We are instructed to leave it on the side of the road, not on the footpath or the berm. We had to make a drain for the water too, which was pretty fun really.
What is intriguing is how quickly everything did get back to normal after a quake that was as big as the one in February. Power was back on to most people within a couple of days, and even the university was back in action within a week. People shovelled, and helped each other and got on with their lives. The expression “Keep calm and carry on”, which I believe had its origins in the war, has resonance now.
Having said that, it is difficult, but important to keep up routines. My running has been sporadic, but making progress all the same. It took me about a week to settle back again after the June quakes. I also felt on edge for about a week, bracing for another aftershock. They were Jessica’s first big quakes, so she found it all rather frightening. We had to boil the water for about a week too. It is nice when you can clean your teeth from the tap. But you don’t want to complain, as there are still many people without running water at all and having to use chemical toilets.
The weather was rather grey for several days, which has a dampening effect on already damp spirits. On the night of the 21st June we had a series of aftershocks that kept many of us awake. There was a 5.3 in the evening (and I dropped my knitting as I leaped for the door frame) followed by ten during the night over 3 in magnitude. We find some small comfort in hearing that our geological event is unique in how it is continuing.
At work we were given a 90 minute visit in our offices to pack up 4 boxes of stuff to go to our new temporary offices. Our building is mostly okay, but the stairwell isn’t satisfactory, so they can’t have too many in at once in case of an aftershock. The new offices are somewhat reminiscent of a military camp, and we will have 15 staff to a room, whereas we are used to having private offices.
People cry easily these days. I watched a compelling piece of television on Campbell Live. They set up a tent with a camera and got people to tell their problems to the camera. With some good editing it was extremely moving. Seeing big burly tradesmen breaking down with emotion touches the hardest hearts.
Thursday 23rd June was a landmark day, when many people found out the fate of their home and land. About 5,000 homes so far have been listed for abandonment. The land needs more work than can be done in a reasonable time-frame to make it safe to build on, if it is possible at all. The city has Red, Green, Orange and White Zones. Those in the Red Zone will be bought out by the government, and have nine months in which to sort themselves out and move. Those in the Green Zone can be repaired. Those in the Orange Zone are unclassified at present, as are those in the White zone. The Red Zone is mostly along the Avon river. We are, not surprisingly, in a Green Zone, while my brother’s house is Red. My mother’s house is orange. Over ten families in our Ward (Church congregations) are in the Red zone and will need to move on.
I went shopping with Jonathan for a present for Mark. We went to the Westfield mall in Riccarton, as our regular mall, “The Palms” is still being repaired, and town shopping does not even exist. The traffic was clogged in a way seldom seen before. As we drove past Rugby Park, we saw crowds of people making their way to the temporary stands for a rugby game, as our big stadium, the AMI stadium, is out of action. The Mall was full of youngsters from all over town, and busy and clogged. The roads were bumpy and dusty. Before you go anywhere you check on-line to see if they are still there.
Coming up Hills Road recently, was a classic scene. In view were piles of silt on the side of the road, traffic cones, portaloos, potholes, earth-moving machinery and mud, all greyed out by a film of dust on surfaces and in the air. There were empty spots where buildings had been brought down, and other buildings fenced off for safety. Sink-holes and lumps appear in roads overnight, so you need extra caution driving, particularly at night. Buildings disappear and you find yourself staring at a gap, wondering what was there before. Traffic gets choked off when roads are narrowed to make room for taking down a building.
If you stay at home, or live on the Northwest of the city, you could possibly think that life was normal. But it isn’t.
Let me end on a more positive note. Here are a few snippets of good news or good results from the earthquake.
Flying Burrito Brothers has moved to Northlands. The days are getting longer again. It is the mildest winter on record (though not good news for the skiing industry). People in Christchurch have a bond of common adversity which brings out charitable behaviour and almost unreasonable loyalty to the city. The law courts held in the marae are encouraging better reverence for the law. Boy racers are not cruising the inner city. Everyone has something to talk to complete strangers about. I have made some really worthwhile improvements to my course.
That’s pretty much it, really.
The big after-shocks on the 13th June have set people back. It is as if we have lost a lot of resilience. I had a week or so of feeling down. I just felt sad and didn’t really want to do anything. It all seems so hard. Everything is hard, and for some people it is extremely hard. I decided to accept that these quakes aren’t going anywhere soon. There will be more.
Jessica and I took a fruit loaf and visited our Relief Society President, Jacquie Taleni and shovelled silt for the afternoon. There were friends and neighbours there, and the missionaries, and a student from the other side of town, who just turned up to help. Getting there was hazardous – there was so much mud and silt and stones, and water, that I wondered if I would even make it without a 4WD. The silt was wetter this time around, so started slumping down into the gutters. We are instructed to leave it on the side of the road, not on the footpath or the berm. We had to make a drain for the water too, which was pretty fun really.
What is intriguing is how quickly everything did get back to normal after a quake that was as big as the one in February. Power was back on to most people within a couple of days, and even the university was back in action within a week. People shovelled, and helped each other and got on with their lives. The expression “Keep calm and carry on”, which I believe had its origins in the war, has resonance now.
Having said that, it is difficult, but important to keep up routines. My running has been sporadic, but making progress all the same. It took me about a week to settle back again after the June quakes. I also felt on edge for about a week, bracing for another aftershock. They were Jessica’s first big quakes, so she found it all rather frightening. We had to boil the water for about a week too. It is nice when you can clean your teeth from the tap. But you don’t want to complain, as there are still many people without running water at all and having to use chemical toilets.
The weather was rather grey for several days, which has a dampening effect on already damp spirits. On the night of the 21st June we had a series of aftershocks that kept many of us awake. There was a 5.3 in the evening (and I dropped my knitting as I leaped for the door frame) followed by ten during the night over 3 in magnitude. We find some small comfort in hearing that our geological event is unique in how it is continuing.
At work we were given a 90 minute visit in our offices to pack up 4 boxes of stuff to go to our new temporary offices. Our building is mostly okay, but the stairwell isn’t satisfactory, so they can’t have too many in at once in case of an aftershock. The new offices are somewhat reminiscent of a military camp, and we will have 15 staff to a room, whereas we are used to having private offices.
People cry easily these days. I watched a compelling piece of television on Campbell Live. They set up a tent with a camera and got people to tell their problems to the camera. With some good editing it was extremely moving. Seeing big burly tradesmen breaking down with emotion touches the hardest hearts.
Thursday 23rd June was a landmark day, when many people found out the fate of their home and land. About 5,000 homes so far have been listed for abandonment. The land needs more work than can be done in a reasonable time-frame to make it safe to build on, if it is possible at all. The city has Red, Green, Orange and White Zones. Those in the Red Zone will be bought out by the government, and have nine months in which to sort themselves out and move. Those in the Green Zone can be repaired. Those in the Orange Zone are unclassified at present, as are those in the White zone. The Red Zone is mostly along the Avon river. We are, not surprisingly, in a Green Zone, while my brother’s house is Red. My mother’s house is orange. Over ten families in our Ward (Church congregations) are in the Red zone and will need to move on.
I went shopping with Jonathan for a present for Mark. We went to the Westfield mall in Riccarton, as our regular mall, “The Palms” is still being repaired, and town shopping does not even exist. The traffic was clogged in a way seldom seen before. As we drove past Rugby Park, we saw crowds of people making their way to the temporary stands for a rugby game, as our big stadium, the AMI stadium, is out of action. The Mall was full of youngsters from all over town, and busy and clogged. The roads were bumpy and dusty. Before you go anywhere you check on-line to see if they are still there.
Coming up Hills Road recently, was a classic scene. In view were piles of silt on the side of the road, traffic cones, portaloos, potholes, earth-moving machinery and mud, all greyed out by a film of dust on surfaces and in the air. There were empty spots where buildings had been brought down, and other buildings fenced off for safety. Sink-holes and lumps appear in roads overnight, so you need extra caution driving, particularly at night. Buildings disappear and you find yourself staring at a gap, wondering what was there before. Traffic gets choked off when roads are narrowed to make room for taking down a building.
If you stay at home, or live on the Northwest of the city, you could possibly think that life was normal. But it isn’t.
Let me end on a more positive note. Here are a few snippets of good news or good results from the earthquake.
Flying Burrito Brothers has moved to Northlands. The days are getting longer again. It is the mildest winter on record (though not good news for the skiing industry). People in Christchurch have a bond of common adversity which brings out charitable behaviour and almost unreasonable loyalty to the city. The law courts held in the marae are encouraging better reverence for the law. Boy racers are not cruising the inner city. Everyone has something to talk to complete strangers about. I have made some really worthwhile improvements to my course.
That’s pretty much it, really.
Monday, 13 June 2011
Here we go again. June 13 earthquake report
It is 5:40am and I am sitting on the sofa in the living-room, typing on my laptop. It can only mean one thing – Christchurch has been hit by another after-shock. Two actually – or more – it depends on what counts. There is a sense of “Here we go again”.
Yesterday (Monday 13th June) I spent the morning sorting out my office at home, preparing a research plan, marking on-line assessment and quite enjoying working from home. I was scheduled to go back into our broken building on Tuesday to pack up my allocated four cardboard boxes of stuff to be taken to Pod KF04 seat H, which is to be my “office”, in a space with up to 14 others, for the next year. I was quite looking forward to moving on. I had helped Jonathan with his personal grooming, getting ready for his party on Saturday (which had been put off from 26th February). William was just starting work out in Hornby in a distribution centre. Jessica was in their caravan writing her essay on her history with William for the department of immigration. Mark and Jonathan had finished their lunch and I was heating up some curried parsnip soup.
An aftershock hit, and Mark held the pantry doors closed while I grabbed the soup off the stove. It was a big one – clearly over a 5. I rang my mother, who was not at home, and my sister to see if she had heard from my mother. Jessica rang William. I picked up my Lego men and flat-screen monitor from off the floor in my office. I gulped down my soup and prepared to go to see if my mother was okay. She rang to tell me she was safe and ok. We chatted for a bit while our heart-rates settled down a bit. I tweeted and checked my Facebook. The university sent out evacuation emails, sending everyone home. We checked the magnitude on Geonet and found that it was a 5.5, the biggest one other than on 4 Sept or 22 Feb. It was centred about 10km southeast of Christchurch.
After a bit I went back to carry on with my work while Mark did the dishes, Jonathan was in his room and Jessica went back to the caravan to pick things up. My brain wouldn’t settle. I followed what was happening on Twitter. I was thinking what to do next when at 2:20pm there was another after-shock, considerably worse. This was a 6.0, the third largest. As books, papers and Lego fell around me, I held onto the computer screen. The shelves that had come down on the 4th September, and emptied on 22nd February only disgorged only a selection of books this time. The DVD rack and CD rack fell over. The pantry tipped spices and steak knives on the floor, the woodpile spilled onto my bike, containers fell on the car in the garage, and the car jumped about 300 mm back. I called out to see if everyone was okay and Jonathan asked if the party would be put off again.
[It is 6:00am and I’ve turned on the television for a special report on the Christchurch earthquake]. There is a sense of déjà vu. Another little shock jerks the sofa under me.]
Jessica came in and rang William, my mother rang to say she was okay. We went outside to assess the damage and could hear the now familiar disturbing sounds of car and house alarms and sirens. Things weren’t too bad on our property. I assumed post-earthquake position – sitting on the sofa with a laptop on my lap and the television going. We were happy to all be safe, but very shaken. We were also really happy to still have power and some water, though the pressure was down. I knitted some rows of Jessica’s wrap to calm my nerves.
It wasn’t long before the news started appearing on the television, the first report we saw being on Al Jazeeera! The news started early with another special programme about the Christchurch earthquake. The mayor, Bob Parker appeared with his now-famous orange parka. There was serious liquefaction in many parts of Christchurch. Power was out to 50,000 homes. The roads were gridlocked with people trying to get home. The schools were closed. We were asked to conserve and boil water, check on our neighbours and stay off the streets.
All through the afternoon there were more aftershocks. This was another major geological event, and had set off its own set of aftershocks. It was all so familiar to us, and we dreaded a shaky night. Mark and I checked up on a woman from church, noting the silt and water on the streets again. I rang or texted people to make sure they were okay.
Then gradually things settled down for the night. We had dinner and family night and watched Australian Junior Master Chef, while keeping an eye on Facebook and Twitter. The buses were a bit erratic, so we picked up William from work in Hornby, which gave us a chance to hear how he had been. The 5.5 quake was nothing exceptional out there (on the other side of the city from the source of the quake) but the 6.0 one had them worried and they had all waited in the tea-room while engineers checked the warehouse. Some people had gone home, but William stayed, and got to work in the freezer for a bit, which earns him a bit of extra.
It is tiring and hard on the nerves. It probably won’t set back reconstruction a great deal as parts of the city will not be rebuilt on. The schools and University will be closed for a day while they get checked. I think the dominant emotion is resignation – here we go again. News reporters ask if people will stay or go, but most people do not have the choice. If you own a house in Christchurch there is not a lot you can do but stay. And for many people the task of shovelling silt is just starting all over again.
Yesterday (Monday 13th June) I spent the morning sorting out my office at home, preparing a research plan, marking on-line assessment and quite enjoying working from home. I was scheduled to go back into our broken building on Tuesday to pack up my allocated four cardboard boxes of stuff to be taken to Pod KF04 seat H, which is to be my “office”, in a space with up to 14 others, for the next year. I was quite looking forward to moving on. I had helped Jonathan with his personal grooming, getting ready for his party on Saturday (which had been put off from 26th February). William was just starting work out in Hornby in a distribution centre. Jessica was in their caravan writing her essay on her history with William for the department of immigration. Mark and Jonathan had finished their lunch and I was heating up some curried parsnip soup.
An aftershock hit, and Mark held the pantry doors closed while I grabbed the soup off the stove. It was a big one – clearly over a 5. I rang my mother, who was not at home, and my sister to see if she had heard from my mother. Jessica rang William. I picked up my Lego men and flat-screen monitor from off the floor in my office. I gulped down my soup and prepared to go to see if my mother was okay. She rang to tell me she was safe and ok. We chatted for a bit while our heart-rates settled down a bit. I tweeted and checked my Facebook. The university sent out evacuation emails, sending everyone home. We checked the magnitude on Geonet and found that it was a 5.5, the biggest one other than on 4 Sept or 22 Feb. It was centred about 10km southeast of Christchurch.
After a bit I went back to carry on with my work while Mark did the dishes, Jonathan was in his room and Jessica went back to the caravan to pick things up. My brain wouldn’t settle. I followed what was happening on Twitter. I was thinking what to do next when at 2:20pm there was another after-shock, considerably worse. This was a 6.0, the third largest. As books, papers and Lego fell around me, I held onto the computer screen. The shelves that had come down on the 4th September, and emptied on 22nd February only disgorged only a selection of books this time. The DVD rack and CD rack fell over. The pantry tipped spices and steak knives on the floor, the woodpile spilled onto my bike, containers fell on the car in the garage, and the car jumped about 300 mm back. I called out to see if everyone was okay and Jonathan asked if the party would be put off again.
[It is 6:00am and I’ve turned on the television for a special report on the Christchurch earthquake]. There is a sense of déjà vu. Another little shock jerks the sofa under me.]
Jessica came in and rang William, my mother rang to say she was okay. We went outside to assess the damage and could hear the now familiar disturbing sounds of car and house alarms and sirens. Things weren’t too bad on our property. I assumed post-earthquake position – sitting on the sofa with a laptop on my lap and the television going. We were happy to all be safe, but very shaken. We were also really happy to still have power and some water, though the pressure was down. I knitted some rows of Jessica’s wrap to calm my nerves.
It wasn’t long before the news started appearing on the television, the first report we saw being on Al Jazeeera! The news started early with another special programme about the Christchurch earthquake. The mayor, Bob Parker appeared with his now-famous orange parka. There was serious liquefaction in many parts of Christchurch. Power was out to 50,000 homes. The roads were gridlocked with people trying to get home. The schools were closed. We were asked to conserve and boil water, check on our neighbours and stay off the streets.
All through the afternoon there were more aftershocks. This was another major geological event, and had set off its own set of aftershocks. It was all so familiar to us, and we dreaded a shaky night. Mark and I checked up on a woman from church, noting the silt and water on the streets again. I rang or texted people to make sure they were okay.
Then gradually things settled down for the night. We had dinner and family night and watched Australian Junior Master Chef, while keeping an eye on Facebook and Twitter. The buses were a bit erratic, so we picked up William from work in Hornby, which gave us a chance to hear how he had been. The 5.5 quake was nothing exceptional out there (on the other side of the city from the source of the quake) but the 6.0 one had them worried and they had all waited in the tea-room while engineers checked the warehouse. Some people had gone home, but William stayed, and got to work in the freezer for a bit, which earns him a bit of extra.
It is tiring and hard on the nerves. It probably won’t set back reconstruction a great deal as parts of the city will not be rebuilt on. The schools and University will be closed for a day while they get checked. I think the dominant emotion is resignation – here we go again. News reporters ask if people will stay or go, but most people do not have the choice. If you own a house in Christchurch there is not a lot you can do but stay. And for many people the task of shovelling silt is just starting all over again.
Wednesday, 8 June 2011
Christchurch Quake - May report
It isn't all over
I think for most people outside of Christchurch the earthquake is old news. Surely we must be getting back to normal by now? But the answer is no. It is by no means over. And some people think that the people on the less affected side of the city have normal life, but that is not true either.
To start with the newspaper is full of the earthquake and the recovery. There are the complaints from business people who can’t get back into the centre city to retrieve their stock to start somewhere else. There are articles on what the city should look like after we demolish possibly half the buildings in the centre city. There are appointments of people to run the recovery. Roger Sutton was appointed CEO of CERA, which was an extremely popular appointment. He took a serious drop in salary to do it, as he had been head of Orion power company before. Then there are the scientific discoveries of new faults under the city, and out to sea, and a leaked announcement that there is a 23% chance of a magnitude 6-7 in the next twelve months. (The spurious precision of the probability does have me wondering if the scientists in question understand mathematical models and people’s perception of probabilities.)
Then there are the roads. These are very sad. Many of the main roads have had the bumps taken out and are patched. Cracks have been sealed with tar, leaving a web-like pattern over the road. The less busy streets have unpaved sections, and the quiet streets still have the bumps. The main roads are clogged, and you have to think carefully about which route to take and at what time to avoid gridlock. And it’s sad to think that visitors might think that this is what our city is normally like.
And there is the spectre of power cuts and further after-shocks. The little shocks are pretty usual now, but still can get your heart racing. We had a meeting on the fourth floor of an unfamiliar building at work, and there were some noises from the lift or trolleys or similar that had us all jumpy for the first few episodes. The fragile power network has frequent cuts, which worry older people especially who are left cold and bored.
People hug more, and are more flexible in some areas, but more brittle in others. Our sense of security has been eroded. Things that we thought were permanent just aren’t. Nor do we feel entirely safe in other places as they aren’t prepared for an earthquake. They might think they are, but we know differently. Everything still takes longer, and most people are more forgetful.
People in the eastern suburbs are living in sub-standard houses with limited heating and draughts making it difficult to stay warm in the looming winter. Gardens are still covered by silt. Many are still using chemical toilets. The main swimming pools for the east-side, QE2 and the Centennial, are broken, so children are left without places to learn to swim or to have an inexpensive afternoon of fun. A lot of the sports grounds are broken up, or the club rooms are, or there is temporary accommodation being built on them, so the sports programme for winter is seriously diminished. Many of the things that make life interesting and fun, particularly for the old and the young, are not available.
Work-places have sprung up in the suburbs in total and necessary disregard for zoning laws. Accountants, consulting firms and small industries are run from houses in residential areas. People have to share offices and take turns at coming in to work. At university we gradually are getting buildings back in use, so the timetable is very fluid. When shopping you always have to check that the place you intend to go to is still there. Some of the suburbs, such as Hornby, are booming, as the empty building and shop space is being taken up by displaced businesses.
One hard thing for many people is the loss of the central city. It has been said that the city has a black hole in the centre. The view from the hills at night makes it obvious. There is this worry that we won’t get it right when we rebuild, and it will never be nice again.
Life is not how it used to be and it never will be.
I think for most people outside of Christchurch the earthquake is old news. Surely we must be getting back to normal by now? But the answer is no. It is by no means over. And some people think that the people on the less affected side of the city have normal life, but that is not true either.
To start with the newspaper is full of the earthquake and the recovery. There are the complaints from business people who can’t get back into the centre city to retrieve their stock to start somewhere else. There are articles on what the city should look like after we demolish possibly half the buildings in the centre city. There are appointments of people to run the recovery. Roger Sutton was appointed CEO of CERA, which was an extremely popular appointment. He took a serious drop in salary to do it, as he had been head of Orion power company before. Then there are the scientific discoveries of new faults under the city, and out to sea, and a leaked announcement that there is a 23% chance of a magnitude 6-7 in the next twelve months. (The spurious precision of the probability does have me wondering if the scientists in question understand mathematical models and people’s perception of probabilities.)
Then there are the roads. These are very sad. Many of the main roads have had the bumps taken out and are patched. Cracks have been sealed with tar, leaving a web-like pattern over the road. The less busy streets have unpaved sections, and the quiet streets still have the bumps. The main roads are clogged, and you have to think carefully about which route to take and at what time to avoid gridlock. And it’s sad to think that visitors might think that this is what our city is normally like.
And there is the spectre of power cuts and further after-shocks. The little shocks are pretty usual now, but still can get your heart racing. We had a meeting on the fourth floor of an unfamiliar building at work, and there were some noises from the lift or trolleys or similar that had us all jumpy for the first few episodes. The fragile power network has frequent cuts, which worry older people especially who are left cold and bored.
People hug more, and are more flexible in some areas, but more brittle in others. Our sense of security has been eroded. Things that we thought were permanent just aren’t. Nor do we feel entirely safe in other places as they aren’t prepared for an earthquake. They might think they are, but we know differently. Everything still takes longer, and most people are more forgetful.
People in the eastern suburbs are living in sub-standard houses with limited heating and draughts making it difficult to stay warm in the looming winter. Gardens are still covered by silt. Many are still using chemical toilets. The main swimming pools for the east-side, QE2 and the Centennial, are broken, so children are left without places to learn to swim or to have an inexpensive afternoon of fun. A lot of the sports grounds are broken up, or the club rooms are, or there is temporary accommodation being built on them, so the sports programme for winter is seriously diminished. Many of the things that make life interesting and fun, particularly for the old and the young, are not available.
Work-places have sprung up in the suburbs in total and necessary disregard for zoning laws. Accountants, consulting firms and small industries are run from houses in residential areas. People have to share offices and take turns at coming in to work. At university we gradually are getting buildings back in use, so the timetable is very fluid. When shopping you always have to check that the place you intend to go to is still there. Some of the suburbs, such as Hornby, are booming, as the empty building and shop space is being taken up by displaced businesses.
One hard thing for many people is the loss of the central city. It has been said that the city has a black hole in the centre. The view from the hills at night makes it obvious. There is this worry that we won’t get it right when we rebuild, and it will never be nice again.
Life is not how it used to be and it never will be.
Christchurch Quake - April report
This will be short as I am in the USA at present and writing on an iPad, which is not as easy as a computer. I didn't think I would have anything to write about the earthquake, but I do.
A couple of things are interesting.
I miss Christchurch. She is like a sick relative. I am anxious to hear how things are going for her. I check the #eqnz twitter feeds and TVNZ news app for the latest news. One thing that has alarmed us is the near collapse of the sewerage system. We are doing our bit just now by not being there.
We are minor celebrities as a result of the earthquake. Having said that, we have rather been knocked off the radar by Japan. At an LDSTech conference one of the session leaders had been following the Christchurch Stake Earthquake Facebook site and when I told him I was one of the admins, he interviewed me on camera about it.
I am a bit temperamental. My brother-in-law made a joke about the earthquake and I was not very responsive and nearly burst into tears. It doesn't help to think that no one around us has any idea what is going on in Christchurch. I suspect to most people it is all over, and they expect that we are going on with our lives as usual. I think for many Christchurch people it will be a long time before usual is usual. We talk about the "new normal". Now when people find out we are from Christchurch and ask how things are I say that they are really bad. It's hard to explain how bad it is in financial terms for our country when the tsunami in Japan seems so dramatic in comparison.
I think the cost is estimated at about 25% of the annual GDP.
So it is nice to be away, but my heart is still in Christchurch.
A couple of things are interesting.
I miss Christchurch. She is like a sick relative. I am anxious to hear how things are going for her. I check the #eqnz twitter feeds and TVNZ news app for the latest news. One thing that has alarmed us is the near collapse of the sewerage system. We are doing our bit just now by not being there.
We are minor celebrities as a result of the earthquake. Having said that, we have rather been knocked off the radar by Japan. At an LDSTech conference one of the session leaders had been following the Christchurch Stake Earthquake Facebook site and when I told him I was one of the admins, he interviewed me on camera about it.
I am a bit temperamental. My brother-in-law made a joke about the earthquake and I was not very responsive and nearly burst into tears. It doesn't help to think that no one around us has any idea what is going on in Christchurch. I suspect to most people it is all over, and they expect that we are going on with our lives as usual. I think for many Christchurch people it will be a long time before usual is usual. We talk about the "new normal". Now when people find out we are from Christchurch and ask how things are I say that they are really bad. It's hard to explain how bad it is in financial terms for our country when the tsunami in Japan seems so dramatic in comparison.
I think the cost is estimated at about 25% of the annual GDP.
So it is nice to be away, but my heart is still in Christchurch.
Christchurch Quake February 2011 - Week 5
A new normal
For many people life is nowhere near normal, and won’t be for a long time.
One friend lives and works in the central city and is still not in her own home. Others have finally got power, but will be using chemical toilets for some time. People have moved away and some are staying away and some are coming back. Many people have lost their jobs, with little hope of getting another in the short-term. The city that normally shines, is dusty and grey in parts, though parts are still beautiful. Cars are coated in grey silt, and we allow twice the normal travel time, or more. We are warned that everyone is living with a high level of stress and to try to be gentle with others and ourselves.
Daily Life for us
However, for us, life is mainly less convenient, interspersed with aftershocks and gaps in the landscape. And we have a trip to Utah to take us away from it all for a while, and Jessica’s arrival and Jonathan’s party (second attempt) to look forward to after that.
Jonathan and Mark are back to going to the gym three times a week, and Jonathan was very happy to be back at his jazz class twice a week at Hagley.
I managed two runs this week, and a game of tennis and one bike ride to work. I feel much better. Running really clears my head and helps me to think things out. I count it as work time (or I would if I did actually count my time at all) as I get so much done in my head on the way round my route. (About 35 minutes).
I work from home now, which means I do stuff on the computer to give the students, and check that they are doing their work. Delightfully, they are! Gives me a warm glow to see it, it does. I gave another lecture out at Lincoln, and looked after a couple of tutorials during the week. I finally got the pay sorted out for my tutors, which had been a major headache and worry. I had another trip in to my office, wearing hard hat and high visibility jacket, led by a rescue team member, and given about 10 minutes to collect what I could carry. I was very happy to get my university laptop and screen, so I can now fit more than one application on the screen at one time. It was also nice to see my colleagues again as most of us were in the same expedition. We have been told we will not be back on our building until next year, which probably means longer than that. I’ve heard the floors were damaged.
Shopping
On Friday I decided I probably did need to buy something to wear to William’s wedding. We fly out to Utah on Monday, so it was rather last minute. I just didn’t want to buy anything in my post-earthquake size, but I realised that it was going to have to be. Mark went above and beyond the call of duty and came with me and made sensible comments. I was so happy to have him there. We didn’t get anything though so I went back on Saturday. The traffic was amazing. I have never seen it like that in Christchurch, except Feb 22, but that was extreme. The problem is that there are two malls out of action, and the central city shut down, which is putting a lot of pressure on the west side of town, at Westfield and Northlands. I was so relieved to get home, finally, with a new red top to wear with a red jacket and black skirt. Very Canterbury. During the week the traffic flows are unpredictable, because of broken and closed roads, and different times for schools who are doing double duty.
A night out
Last night we went out to dinner with my sister and husband and my mother. It was paid for by my Aunt Ann who lives in London, and it was a wonderful night with great food and great company. Thank you Ann. We were celebrating making it through the earthquake in one piece. We went out to Rangiora, thus avoiding bumpy roads and difficult traffic.
Linda is very busy at work as she is a physiotherapist and they are treating some very bad injuries. Her husband, Des, is out of work at present, as the cafe he works in is in the Red Zone. No one is looking forward to getting back in, as there is still food sitting on the table from a month ago, and one doesn’t like to imagine what the fridges and freezers will be like after this time without power. I’ve heard the smell is bad, and rats are having a good time in the city. It sounds like a scene from “The Survivors”. Gradually the cordons will be reduced and parts of the city will have access given, but it will be months before some parts are safe enough. Going back will be traumatic for some too.
Church
Today at church we were told to think of the Opawa chapel as our home now, as Avonside Chapel will be out of action for at least two years. I suspect it may never be rebuilt. A lot depends on what happens to the broken suburbs out that way. If the people all get moved, then there will be no need for a chapel. We won’t be having Stake Conference in one place either, as neither of the chapels is big enough and there are few venues the right size in Christchurch at present. It is a very happy thought that no one in the church in Christchurch was hurt badly or killed. Many have lost their homes, and many are working from other places, but all are well.
Blessings
I feel greatly blessed, especially today, which is our silver wedding anniversary. We have taken a raincheck on celebrating it as there is too much going on . I have a warm, sound home, with electricity, functional plumbing, and running, if not drinkable, water. I have a job that continues to pay me well, even when I am less productive than usual. All my family is safe and well. We live in a city that is beautiful in many parts and will be beautiful again. These are no small blessings, and it will be a long time before anyone from Christchurch takes them for granted.
For many people life is nowhere near normal, and won’t be for a long time.
One friend lives and works in the central city and is still not in her own home. Others have finally got power, but will be using chemical toilets for some time. People have moved away and some are staying away and some are coming back. Many people have lost their jobs, with little hope of getting another in the short-term. The city that normally shines, is dusty and grey in parts, though parts are still beautiful. Cars are coated in grey silt, and we allow twice the normal travel time, or more. We are warned that everyone is living with a high level of stress and to try to be gentle with others and ourselves.
Daily Life for us
However, for us, life is mainly less convenient, interspersed with aftershocks and gaps in the landscape. And we have a trip to Utah to take us away from it all for a while, and Jessica’s arrival and Jonathan’s party (second attempt) to look forward to after that.
Jonathan and Mark are back to going to the gym three times a week, and Jonathan was very happy to be back at his jazz class twice a week at Hagley.
I managed two runs this week, and a game of tennis and one bike ride to work. I feel much better. Running really clears my head and helps me to think things out. I count it as work time (or I would if I did actually count my time at all) as I get so much done in my head on the way round my route. (About 35 minutes).
I work from home now, which means I do stuff on the computer to give the students, and check that they are doing their work. Delightfully, they are! Gives me a warm glow to see it, it does. I gave another lecture out at Lincoln, and looked after a couple of tutorials during the week. I finally got the pay sorted out for my tutors, which had been a major headache and worry. I had another trip in to my office, wearing hard hat and high visibility jacket, led by a rescue team member, and given about 10 minutes to collect what I could carry. I was very happy to get my university laptop and screen, so I can now fit more than one application on the screen at one time. It was also nice to see my colleagues again as most of us were in the same expedition. We have been told we will not be back on our building until next year, which probably means longer than that. I’ve heard the floors were damaged.
Shopping
On Friday I decided I probably did need to buy something to wear to William’s wedding. We fly out to Utah on Monday, so it was rather last minute. I just didn’t want to buy anything in my post-earthquake size, but I realised that it was going to have to be. Mark went above and beyond the call of duty and came with me and made sensible comments. I was so happy to have him there. We didn’t get anything though so I went back on Saturday. The traffic was amazing. I have never seen it like that in Christchurch, except Feb 22, but that was extreme. The problem is that there are two malls out of action, and the central city shut down, which is putting a lot of pressure on the west side of town, at Westfield and Northlands. I was so relieved to get home, finally, with a new red top to wear with a red jacket and black skirt. Very Canterbury. During the week the traffic flows are unpredictable, because of broken and closed roads, and different times for schools who are doing double duty.
A night out
Last night we went out to dinner with my sister and husband and my mother. It was paid for by my Aunt Ann who lives in London, and it was a wonderful night with great food and great company. Thank you Ann. We were celebrating making it through the earthquake in one piece. We went out to Rangiora, thus avoiding bumpy roads and difficult traffic.
Linda is very busy at work as she is a physiotherapist and they are treating some very bad injuries. Her husband, Des, is out of work at present, as the cafe he works in is in the Red Zone. No one is looking forward to getting back in, as there is still food sitting on the table from a month ago, and one doesn’t like to imagine what the fridges and freezers will be like after this time without power. I’ve heard the smell is bad, and rats are having a good time in the city. It sounds like a scene from “The Survivors”. Gradually the cordons will be reduced and parts of the city will have access given, but it will be months before some parts are safe enough. Going back will be traumatic for some too.
Church
Today at church we were told to think of the Opawa chapel as our home now, as Avonside Chapel will be out of action for at least two years. I suspect it may never be rebuilt. A lot depends on what happens to the broken suburbs out that way. If the people all get moved, then there will be no need for a chapel. We won’t be having Stake Conference in one place either, as neither of the chapels is big enough and there are few venues the right size in Christchurch at present. It is a very happy thought that no one in the church in Christchurch was hurt badly or killed. Many have lost their homes, and many are working from other places, but all are well.
Blessings
I feel greatly blessed, especially today, which is our silver wedding anniversary. We have taken a raincheck on celebrating it as there is too much going on . I have a warm, sound home, with electricity, functional plumbing, and running, if not drinkable, water. I have a job that continues to pay me well, even when I am less productive than usual. All my family is safe and well. We live in a city that is beautiful in many parts and will be beautiful again. These are no small blessings, and it will be a long time before anyone from Christchurch takes them for granted.
Christchurch Quake February 2011 - Week 4
Week 4
It is nearly a month since the earthquake. Each week brings new experiences.Something in the water
This morning as I turned on the shower I smelled chlorine. The unthinkable has happened and Christchurch water has been treated. I guess chlorine is preferable to live bacteria from the broken sewerage system. The authorities assure us that they will stop treating as soon as possible, and we may be able to stop boiling our drinking water soon. Happily there has not been an outbreak of gastro-enteritis. We filled up our 20 litre water containers in Rangiora last Sunday so we use that for drinking. I think we will continue to do that as it is more pleasant to drink.Airport
We went to the airport yesterday to see William off to the US to meet his future in-laws. He had tried to get presents, but all the souvenir stores are in the Red Zone in the centre of town, so he had to try at the airport. The atmosphere at the airport was nearer to normal, with people smiling, and a happy bustle. It made me more aware of the marked contrast with the 23rd February when I met Rosemary. It may be a reflection of my own sleep deprivation at the time, and feeling shocked and rather disconnected, but I remember it all seemed very sombre and subdued.
Central City
On Friday was a public holiday and a memorial service in Hagley Park. I needed a day off, so we watched it on television. There was a video shown at the start of some of the damage in the Red Zone, which was rather eerie and sad. Today Mark and I went for a drive and walk around the edge of the cordon. We saw a wrecking ball being dropped on St Elmo’s court, and quite a few police and army types. There was a lot of damage, and I’m sure there was more damage that wasn’t apparent. However, the bones of the city are still good. The river and bridges and trees and flora are as beautiful as ever. There are many ugly buildings that will come down, as well as nice ones. I feel much better for having seen in. Before there was an emptiness in how I pictured it all, and now I can picture it better. It will be a LONG time before the centre city approaches normal, but it will be beautiful again. There is certainly a will.
Tennis
Later on Friday Mark and I had a game of tennis at Rugby St court. It was wonderful. I had felt all mushy in my head beforehand, but much better after. I even got the score to 2-2, which has never happened before. It was a sunny day, and a lovely setting.
University
We had a week at Uni, with just the first years there. Only it didn’t seem as if many were there really. There are marquees set up in the carparks to use as lecture theatres. Fortunately there are some operational computer labs, which we have been using. The big lecture theatres are having their heavy ceiling panels replaced with light ceiling panels, and then the classes will be allowed back in.
I had to teach a graduate class that had been relocated out to Lincoln on Wednesday afternoon, and on Wednesday morning I still had not come to grips with what I was going to do with the course. I have never felt so lost in all my teaching career. I sat and stared at the computer screen with my mind a blank. It felt as if I had enough emotional and intellectual resources to cope with one course, but not a second. However I had some vague idea of what to do and got Mark to drive me to Lincoln so that I wouldn’t have the added stress of working out how to get there. (Sounds pathetic I know, but earthquakes do funny things to people.) It also meant I had company. When I got there, the class was fine, and once I warmed up it all went okay. I’d rather not go through that again though.
Stag night
A step back to normal life was our outing to Chats Bar for the Tuesday quiz night with Nick. Everything was a little gritty, with the silt that had been blowing around the area. But the bar had power, water and sewerage so it went ahead. There was no “post mix” due to the drinking water problems so the barmaid had to go next door to the dairy to buy soda water for our cranberry and soda. It was the closest thing William will have to a stag night, (with his mother there?!) and we had a good time. We drank two jugs of cranberry and soda! We came third equal and lost on the tie-breaker.
Slow
Things are still slow. My brain is still slow, and I am able to get less than half a day’s work done in a day. The traffic is slow, due to the poor roads, and you need to allow at least twice the normal time to get anywhere. Not only is my brain slow, it is more forgetful. I left my iPhone in the computer lab, which to me is akin to leaving a baby on a bus! Fortunately a nice student handed it over to a lecturer when it rang.
Church community
We had church today for the first time since the earthquake. Various groups of women had met up in the interim and we had been keeping track of each other. It was interesting though that there were three units meeting together today, and half an hour after the meeting ended there were only people from our unit (Ward) still standing around and talking. We feel very close to each other, having been the worst hit in the city. A speaker who had come from Hamilton commented that he felt honoured to be addressing people for whom thousands of people had been praying. It was a lovely thought. He emphasised God’s love for us, and that having afflictions does not mean that we are not favoured of God. (1Nephi1:1).
And now...
One more week to get all my University teaching sorted out, and then we fly out to Utah for Willam’s wedding. Jonathan is pretty excited and it will be nice to get away, but I think my thoughts will still be with our wounded city.
Christchurch Quake February 2011 - Week 3
Two weeks on. The novelty is wearing off and reality bites.
It’s difficult to think what even happened since last Sunday. As I mentioned before, everything seems to happen in slow motion, and a whole day can go by with nothing much accomplished.
A Day Off
On Tuesday we took the day off from regular life and went to Hanmer Springs for the day. We went for a walk in the beautiful Woodland Walk, ate out at a cafe and went to the fantastic hot pools. It was probably our last outing as a family of four, maybe forever, as William is leaving for the US next Saturday, and when he comes back he will bring his new wife, Jessica, to join our family. It was a calm day, with lots of fun. It was great to have William again to take Jonathan on the hydroslides, though Mark and I did go on as well, particularly the new ride. As we drove back into Christchurch, I did feel some sadness descend. Mainly sadness for the city as a whole and the daunting task of rebuilding. Back home I couldn’t face reality and decided to spend the evening outside it. I watched television and didn’t answer the phone or do the dishes. They were in the real world and I wasn’t. I didn’t much like the real world and decided I didn’t need to be in it just then.
Back to work
It was another interesting experience on Thursday as I went to University to get some of my belongings and teaching materials out of my office. Only those who are teaching next week had the opportunity to go in. There were about twelve of us in my lot, with a rescue team of six. We wore high-visibility jackets and hard-hats, and had strict instructions to stay where our minder knew where we were. My office was fine and looked barely messier than usual. I had an episode of earthquake brain and didn’t take my keys, so I couldn’t bring out my laptop. But I retrieved my handbag, and a friends, and the student records. After that we had a meeting with other staff in our College, (in a marquee) and it was very nice to see them all again for the first time since the event.
I have been working on my course to make it better suited to almost totally on-line learning. The students will get videos of the lectures from last year, and can come to “Help sessions” during the week in the one computer lab that is operative, it seems. The university is being transformed with marquees being erected in the carparks, in which lectures will be given. We do get a refund for our parking permits! Mark and I bought me a computer desk and chair (on my university purchasing card) that is now in my little room at home so that I can work properly, rather than balancing my laptop on my lap in front of the television! It helps.
Excitement then disappointment
We had a brief time of excitement, when notification came through that our Rogo Lite app was available on the app store. However, when I downloaded it I found it was in French as we had messed up putting in the language files. So we had to pull it off sale and resubmit, and are now waiting another week or so for it to be approved again! Rather frustrating, and quite possibly related to earthquake brain.
Haircuts
Jonathan and I had haircuts ready for our trip to the US and William’s wedding. I had finally found a hairdresser I liked, but unfortunately the salon was in the centre city and is now inaccessible at best, and probably about to be demolished. So we went to another salon, where Jane was borrowing some space, and they will be setting up again in Riccarton before too long, thanks to the insurance company.
The centre city
The whole centre city is rather an enigma. We only see photographs and hear descriptions of it, but no one can go in without security clearance. This is totally reasonable, and protects people and property, but it also lends an air of unreality. It is difficult to come to terms with the destruction, or even understand what destruction there has been without actually seeing it. All sorts of rumours abound as to how many buildings are or will be destroyed. And the estimated cost for rebuilding Christchurch seems to grow daily. The number is far too big to comprehend.
Progress
A big effort this week has been to get power back to most people. Everyone I know has now got electricity, though the south and east are asked to use as little as they can get away with as the network is so fragile. Sewerage will be a long time coming. Even after the September quake the amount of piping that would need replacing was several times what is normally done in a year. But now there are whole suburbs of people for whom a flush toilet is just a happy memory, or something they use when visiting friends. Thousands of chemical toilets are being delivered daily.
Aftershocks
The aftershocks continue, leaving us in a state of constant slight arousal, such that a truck driving past made me grab the bench the other day. They are physically and probably psychologically draining, without being actually frightening. We think nothing of a magnitude 4 earthquake, which would have been a momentous quake to us before September. Often a night’s sleep is disturbed by aftershocks, as they seem to come more in the night. Once woken it can be difficult to get back to sleep. Napping is common.
And now Japan has had a far worse quake, resulting in a Tsunami. Though theoretically I feel sorry for them, I have no real sympathy left. I am too busy with the pains of Christchurch.
Lists of those who have died
Each morning when I read in the paper the list of the dead the police have identified over the last 24 hours I am amazed and relieved that not one of the names so far has been familiar. Having lived nearly all my life in Christchurch I find that remarkable. But it isn’t over yet. There are still up to 100 names to release. I don’t like to read the list, but I know I must. It must have been rather like this during the wars, when the casualty lists were published. I was reluctant to ring up the optometrist, as one of their offices was in town, and I feared that one of them might have been injured or killed. But all was well. Another worry gone.
Shrunken clothes
One particular downside of earthquakes is that my clothes no longer fit me. I would like to think it is some strange physical phenomenon due to the fabric being shaken up and making all my clothes smaller. However I suspect it is more due to a lack of exercise routine, and an abundance of comfort eating. I don’t even want to buy any more clothes, it all seems rather meaningless. I wear trackshoes all the time, as the roads are so dusty and the footpaths are broken up.
Grief
This sounds rather dismal, and I guess it probably is. Winter will be on us soon, and life is going to be very hard for many people with dodgy houses and inadequate plumbing. Life at university is not like anything I could ever have imagined. Normal is far from normal for nearly everyone. We are all grieving. Some have people to grieve for, and some have lost homes, some have lost jobs and many have lost trust in solid ground. I have been truly blessed to lose nothing except my orderly life. But I grieve for that and for Christchurch.
Next
So what can I do? I will do my very best to help my students to have as successful and enjoyable time in my courses as they can. I will try to be kind to the people I meet, as we never know what pain they are carrying. I will try to be patient, even when I feel far from it. It’s all I can do. And hang in there until normal is more normal.
It’s difficult to think what even happened since last Sunday. As I mentioned before, everything seems to happen in slow motion, and a whole day can go by with nothing much accomplished.
A Day Off
On Tuesday we took the day off from regular life and went to Hanmer Springs for the day. We went for a walk in the beautiful Woodland Walk, ate out at a cafe and went to the fantastic hot pools. It was probably our last outing as a family of four, maybe forever, as William is leaving for the US next Saturday, and when he comes back he will bring his new wife, Jessica, to join our family. It was a calm day, with lots of fun. It was great to have William again to take Jonathan on the hydroslides, though Mark and I did go on as well, particularly the new ride. As we drove back into Christchurch, I did feel some sadness descend. Mainly sadness for the city as a whole and the daunting task of rebuilding. Back home I couldn’t face reality and decided to spend the evening outside it. I watched television and didn’t answer the phone or do the dishes. They were in the real world and I wasn’t. I didn’t much like the real world and decided I didn’t need to be in it just then.
Back to work
It was another interesting experience on Thursday as I went to University to get some of my belongings and teaching materials out of my office. Only those who are teaching next week had the opportunity to go in. There were about twelve of us in my lot, with a rescue team of six. We wore high-visibility jackets and hard-hats, and had strict instructions to stay where our minder knew where we were. My office was fine and looked barely messier than usual. I had an episode of earthquake brain and didn’t take my keys, so I couldn’t bring out my laptop. But I retrieved my handbag, and a friends, and the student records. After that we had a meeting with other staff in our College, (in a marquee) and it was very nice to see them all again for the first time since the event.
I have been working on my course to make it better suited to almost totally on-line learning. The students will get videos of the lectures from last year, and can come to “Help sessions” during the week in the one computer lab that is operative, it seems. The university is being transformed with marquees being erected in the carparks, in which lectures will be given. We do get a refund for our parking permits! Mark and I bought me a computer desk and chair (on my university purchasing card) that is now in my little room at home so that I can work properly, rather than balancing my laptop on my lap in front of the television! It helps.
Excitement then disappointment
We had a brief time of excitement, when notification came through that our Rogo Lite app was available on the app store. However, when I downloaded it I found it was in French as we had messed up putting in the language files. So we had to pull it off sale and resubmit, and are now waiting another week or so for it to be approved again! Rather frustrating, and quite possibly related to earthquake brain.
Haircuts
Jonathan and I had haircuts ready for our trip to the US and William’s wedding. I had finally found a hairdresser I liked, but unfortunately the salon was in the centre city and is now inaccessible at best, and probably about to be demolished. So we went to another salon, where Jane was borrowing some space, and they will be setting up again in Riccarton before too long, thanks to the insurance company.
The centre city
The whole centre city is rather an enigma. We only see photographs and hear descriptions of it, but no one can go in without security clearance. This is totally reasonable, and protects people and property, but it also lends an air of unreality. It is difficult to come to terms with the destruction, or even understand what destruction there has been without actually seeing it. All sorts of rumours abound as to how many buildings are or will be destroyed. And the estimated cost for rebuilding Christchurch seems to grow daily. The number is far too big to comprehend.
Progress
A big effort this week has been to get power back to most people. Everyone I know has now got electricity, though the south and east are asked to use as little as they can get away with as the network is so fragile. Sewerage will be a long time coming. Even after the September quake the amount of piping that would need replacing was several times what is normally done in a year. But now there are whole suburbs of people for whom a flush toilet is just a happy memory, or something they use when visiting friends. Thousands of chemical toilets are being delivered daily.
Aftershocks
The aftershocks continue, leaving us in a state of constant slight arousal, such that a truck driving past made me grab the bench the other day. They are physically and probably psychologically draining, without being actually frightening. We think nothing of a magnitude 4 earthquake, which would have been a momentous quake to us before September. Often a night’s sleep is disturbed by aftershocks, as they seem to come more in the night. Once woken it can be difficult to get back to sleep. Napping is common.
And now Japan has had a far worse quake, resulting in a Tsunami. Though theoretically I feel sorry for them, I have no real sympathy left. I am too busy with the pains of Christchurch.
Lists of those who have died
Each morning when I read in the paper the list of the dead the police have identified over the last 24 hours I am amazed and relieved that not one of the names so far has been familiar. Having lived nearly all my life in Christchurch I find that remarkable. But it isn’t over yet. There are still up to 100 names to release. I don’t like to read the list, but I know I must. It must have been rather like this during the wars, when the casualty lists were published. I was reluctant to ring up the optometrist, as one of their offices was in town, and I feared that one of them might have been injured or killed. But all was well. Another worry gone.
Shrunken clothes
One particular downside of earthquakes is that my clothes no longer fit me. I would like to think it is some strange physical phenomenon due to the fabric being shaken up and making all my clothes smaller. However I suspect it is more due to a lack of exercise routine, and an abundance of comfort eating. I don’t even want to buy any more clothes, it all seems rather meaningless. I wear trackshoes all the time, as the roads are so dusty and the footpaths are broken up.
Grief
This sounds rather dismal, and I guess it probably is. Winter will be on us soon, and life is going to be very hard for many people with dodgy houses and inadequate plumbing. Life at university is not like anything I could ever have imagined. Normal is far from normal for nearly everyone. We are all grieving. Some have people to grieve for, and some have lost homes, some have lost jobs and many have lost trust in solid ground. I have been truly blessed to lose nothing except my orderly life. But I grieve for that and for Christchurch.
Next
So what can I do? I will do my very best to help my students to have as successful and enjoyable time in my courses as they can. I will try to be kind to the people I meet, as we never know what pain they are carrying. I will try to be patient, even when I feel far from it. It’s all I can do. And hang in there until normal is more normal.
Christchurch Quake February 2011 - the second week
One week on – It’s not all bad!
Last week I wrote about my initial experience of the Christchurch earthquake. It is now Sunday again and I am keen to tell about what life is like for us now.
Two worlds
In Christchurch there are two worlds. There is the world in the west and north of the city, which the earthquake has mainly touched indirectly this time. People may have lost power for a while, or not. There is a little bit of silt brought up by liquefaction. A few ornaments may have fallen. So, unless friends or family have been affected, life is bizarrely normal, routinely interspersed with aftershocks (Aftershocks are pretty much normal in Christchurch since 4 September). It is beautiful. The trees , which make our city so park-like, are just starting to turn to their autumn hues. The children are playing with their friends and wanting to get back to school.
On Tuesday Mark and I went to the Bush Inn Countdown Supermarket. I walked into the produce department, and the tears started welling up. It was so ordinary it messed with my head. How could life be like that, when a few kilometres away it was so different? So we bought nappies and sanitary supplies along with our regular groceries to take to a refuge centre and drove home eastward to the edge of the disaster area.
Then there is the east. As I write, most houses have regained power, and many have water, though it has to be boiled before drinking. But the dusty streets are dotted with Portaloos, and individual houses are being given chemical toilet kits delivered by the army. Many roads are almost impassable, and an off-road vehicle is a definite advantage. Many houses are empty, as families have left dangerous homes and are staying with family and friends or have gone further afield to escape it all for a while and get their children back into school. Most of the eastern suburbs are also the poorer suburbs, with many families already struggling to get by.
Earthquake brain
I have identified a new psychological phenomenon in myself and others around me. It is called “earthquake brain”. Earthquake brain means that you take at least four times as long to do any task as you would normally take, if you do manage to complete at all, having been distracted so many times. It was my excuse when I had to ask multiple times for the street number when driving counsellors around Avondale on Saturday. It is why I totally failed to respond to a request made a week ago to report back on someone, and could barely remember having read it in the first time. It is why I don’t make connections anymore – forgetting that having my licence trapped in my “red-stickered” building would not make it easy to drive a rental car. It’s why even having lists doesn’t really help me keep up – I forget to read the lists. I’m sure there is a technical term for it, and I have observed it in others. But earthquake brain will do for me.
Home-baking
I have discovered the power of home-baking. One of my favourite (and somewhat secret) hobbies is baking, but my ongoing quest to control my waistline has meant I have had to deny myself that particular activity. But I discovered the “Canterbury Baking Army” on Facebook and thought – this is a way I can help, and have fun as well. People offering to bake for us from out of town were missing the point a little. We WANT to bake. It is not a chore. I made chocolate chip cookies, then smiley-face cookies and later the family heirloom fruitloaf. I have given my baking to family and friends, to an Australian policeman and a NZ soldier, and to total strangers. No that’s wrong – there are no total strangers in Christchurch any more. To people I had never met, and will probably never meet again, but with whom I shared a moment.
Let me tell you the story of that encounter. I was rung and asked to check out an older lady who had a concerned friend in Hamilton. She had not been able to contact her and was understandably worried. I took some fruit loaf and set off. The house itself was empty, though items standing on the kitchen table indicated that it was not empty at the time of the quake. The house to the right was also empty, and a very skinny cat came to talk to me. I broke off a piece of loaf for it, but it was not to the cat’s liking. At the house to the left the occupiers invited me in to give me the phone-number for the lady I was looking for, who was now in a retirement home. Their living area had impressive cracks right down the plaster walls. “Oooh I like your cracks”, I commented, and that broke the ice. We talked about the state of their house, and my house and liquefaction, when the power and water came on and I told them about the skinny cat. They told me his owners would be back soon and he was just old. Then I offered my loaf. Her eyes lit up and she hugged me and we parted. I went home with a big smile on my face. What a privilege it is to connect with people, even in such a small way. When I got home I was able to put the Hamilton friend’s mind at rest. Mission accomplished. I have never thought myself good at serving others, feeling awkward and not particularly warm, but I was able to do this.
So I will keep baking when I can and giving it to people. Mark says it helps that it is really yummy.
Red Stickers
My office is in a building that has been red-stickered. This is another term that all Christchurch people know about. We talk about liquefaction and red-stickers, and estimate after-shock magnitudes with alarming accuracy. A red-sticker means that you may not even enter the building to get things out. It does not mean a building will be demolished, necessarily, and ours will not be. I have been assured that my handbag, with credit cards and pen-drives will be retrieved before we leave for my son’s wedding in the US in a few weeks. We are being asked to recommence the University teaching from home. This is not too difficult for my main course as it is mostly taught on-line anyway. Some of my students have started already, with my encouragement. But for some of my colleagues this will be very difficult.
Rain and wind
Today it is raining. The weather in Christchurch has not been on our side, sending hot winds to blow up the tonnes of silt brought out of the ground through the liquefaction process. This silt is almost as fine as dust, and covers everything and gets into my lungs and hurts my throat. For many it is causing respiratory problems, so volunteers wear masks, and give them out to the public. Thus the rain is helpful for keeping down the dust, but it may also be loosening rocks even further, causing concern in the hill suburbs.
It's not all bad
There is a phenomenon I am struggling to identify, that I am almost reluctant to put on paper. It is almost the opposite of the comfort guilt I spoke of in the previous post. I am glad that I am here. There. I’ve said it. I feel sorry for people who left and have missed out on the experience. It IS easy for me to say, as we were not without power and water for long. I am sure there are many people for whom life is dire right now. However I met with four other women from my church yesterday. All of them are in very difficult circumstances. At the time I saw them, none had had electricity for ten days, or water or sewerage. The house of one of them had broken in three and she talked about trying to chisel the egg/flour/sugar mess that had concreted onto the floor. Yet there was not an ounce of self-pity. We shared stories and laughed and they gave me a hard time for not bringing them any loaf. The purpose of the meeting was to organise for all the women in the congregation to be contacted by one of us at least every two days, and report back any concerns to our leader, Jacquie. One of them came over for a shower later in the evening. These are precious moments. This is an opportunity to work together and love each other and help others.
The earlier part of the day I was involved with Operation Suburb. My job was to drive a "Flying Squad" of counsellors out to people who had been identified as in need by the door-to-door teams. I got to drive a Ford Territory, and use my local knowledge of road closures to advantage, and spend time with some very good people. That was a good experience.
And through all this I feel an abiding and almost overwhelming love for the city itself. Christchurch is like a hurt child, who needs comfort and healing. The heart of Christchurch is deeply hurt, with many, many buildings to come down, and much built heritage to be destroyed. The very happy news that no-one died in the Cathedral has been a source of relief to many as it had been estimated that up to 22 people might have been crushed by the falling tower and walls. There is still a great deal to be done before life can return to the centre. It will take months.
But we can have a new heritage. Our beautiful city will be rebuilt. There is hope of a new, world-leading approach using wood, and modern building techniques that will be safe. Christchurch has faults, as we have sadly discovered, but with determination and love, it will be great again. And the people who were here will be forever connected by this shared experience.
Last week I wrote about my initial experience of the Christchurch earthquake. It is now Sunday again and I am keen to tell about what life is like for us now.
Two worlds
In Christchurch there are two worlds. There is the world in the west and north of the city, which the earthquake has mainly touched indirectly this time. People may have lost power for a while, or not. There is a little bit of silt brought up by liquefaction. A few ornaments may have fallen. So, unless friends or family have been affected, life is bizarrely normal, routinely interspersed with aftershocks (Aftershocks are pretty much normal in Christchurch since 4 September). It is beautiful. The trees , which make our city so park-like, are just starting to turn to their autumn hues. The children are playing with their friends and wanting to get back to school.
On Tuesday Mark and I went to the Bush Inn Countdown Supermarket. I walked into the produce department, and the tears started welling up. It was so ordinary it messed with my head. How could life be like that, when a few kilometres away it was so different? So we bought nappies and sanitary supplies along with our regular groceries to take to a refuge centre and drove home eastward to the edge of the disaster area.
Then there is the east. As I write, most houses have regained power, and many have water, though it has to be boiled before drinking. But the dusty streets are dotted with Portaloos, and individual houses are being given chemical toilet kits delivered by the army. Many roads are almost impassable, and an off-road vehicle is a definite advantage. Many houses are empty, as families have left dangerous homes and are staying with family and friends or have gone further afield to escape it all for a while and get their children back into school. Most of the eastern suburbs are also the poorer suburbs, with many families already struggling to get by.
Earthquake brain
I have identified a new psychological phenomenon in myself and others around me. It is called “earthquake brain”. Earthquake brain means that you take at least four times as long to do any task as you would normally take, if you do manage to complete at all, having been distracted so many times. It was my excuse when I had to ask multiple times for the street number when driving counsellors around Avondale on Saturday. It is why I totally failed to respond to a request made a week ago to report back on someone, and could barely remember having read it in the first time. It is why I don’t make connections anymore – forgetting that having my licence trapped in my “red-stickered” building would not make it easy to drive a rental car. It’s why even having lists doesn’t really help me keep up – I forget to read the lists. I’m sure there is a technical term for it, and I have observed it in others. But earthquake brain will do for me.
Home-baking
I have discovered the power of home-baking. One of my favourite (and somewhat secret) hobbies is baking, but my ongoing quest to control my waistline has meant I have had to deny myself that particular activity. But I discovered the “Canterbury Baking Army” on Facebook and thought – this is a way I can help, and have fun as well. People offering to bake for us from out of town were missing the point a little. We WANT to bake. It is not a chore. I made chocolate chip cookies, then smiley-face cookies and later the family heirloom fruitloaf. I have given my baking to family and friends, to an Australian policeman and a NZ soldier, and to total strangers. No that’s wrong – there are no total strangers in Christchurch any more. To people I had never met, and will probably never meet again, but with whom I shared a moment.
Let me tell you the story of that encounter. I was rung and asked to check out an older lady who had a concerned friend in Hamilton. She had not been able to contact her and was understandably worried. I took some fruit loaf and set off. The house itself was empty, though items standing on the kitchen table indicated that it was not empty at the time of the quake. The house to the right was also empty, and a very skinny cat came to talk to me. I broke off a piece of loaf for it, but it was not to the cat’s liking. At the house to the left the occupiers invited me in to give me the phone-number for the lady I was looking for, who was now in a retirement home. Their living area had impressive cracks right down the plaster walls. “Oooh I like your cracks”, I commented, and that broke the ice. We talked about the state of their house, and my house and liquefaction, when the power and water came on and I told them about the skinny cat. They told me his owners would be back soon and he was just old. Then I offered my loaf. Her eyes lit up and she hugged me and we parted. I went home with a big smile on my face. What a privilege it is to connect with people, even in such a small way. When I got home I was able to put the Hamilton friend’s mind at rest. Mission accomplished. I have never thought myself good at serving others, feeling awkward and not particularly warm, but I was able to do this.
So I will keep baking when I can and giving it to people. Mark says it helps that it is really yummy.
Red Stickers
My office is in a building that has been red-stickered. This is another term that all Christchurch people know about. We talk about liquefaction and red-stickers, and estimate after-shock magnitudes with alarming accuracy. A red-sticker means that you may not even enter the building to get things out. It does not mean a building will be demolished, necessarily, and ours will not be. I have been assured that my handbag, with credit cards and pen-drives will be retrieved before we leave for my son’s wedding in the US in a few weeks. We are being asked to recommence the University teaching from home. This is not too difficult for my main course as it is mostly taught on-line anyway. Some of my students have started already, with my encouragement. But for some of my colleagues this will be very difficult.
Rain and wind
Today it is raining. The weather in Christchurch has not been on our side, sending hot winds to blow up the tonnes of silt brought out of the ground through the liquefaction process. This silt is almost as fine as dust, and covers everything and gets into my lungs and hurts my throat. For many it is causing respiratory problems, so volunteers wear masks, and give them out to the public. Thus the rain is helpful for keeping down the dust, but it may also be loosening rocks even further, causing concern in the hill suburbs.
It's not all bad
There is a phenomenon I am struggling to identify, that I am almost reluctant to put on paper. It is almost the opposite of the comfort guilt I spoke of in the previous post. I am glad that I am here. There. I’ve said it. I feel sorry for people who left and have missed out on the experience. It IS easy for me to say, as we were not without power and water for long. I am sure there are many people for whom life is dire right now. However I met with four other women from my church yesterday. All of them are in very difficult circumstances. At the time I saw them, none had had electricity for ten days, or water or sewerage. The house of one of them had broken in three and she talked about trying to chisel the egg/flour/sugar mess that had concreted onto the floor. Yet there was not an ounce of self-pity. We shared stories and laughed and they gave me a hard time for not bringing them any loaf. The purpose of the meeting was to organise for all the women in the congregation to be contacted by one of us at least every two days, and report back any concerns to our leader, Jacquie. One of them came over for a shower later in the evening. These are precious moments. This is an opportunity to work together and love each other and help others.
The earlier part of the day I was involved with Operation Suburb. My job was to drive a "Flying Squad" of counsellors out to people who had been identified as in need by the door-to-door teams. I got to drive a Ford Territory, and use my local knowledge of road closures to advantage, and spend time with some very good people. That was a good experience.
And through all this I feel an abiding and almost overwhelming love for the city itself. Christchurch is like a hurt child, who needs comfort and healing. The heart of Christchurch is deeply hurt, with many, many buildings to come down, and much built heritage to be destroyed. The very happy news that no-one died in the Cathedral has been a source of relief to many as it had been estimated that up to 22 people might have been crushed by the falling tower and walls. There is still a great deal to be done before life can return to the centre. It will take months.
But we can have a new heritage. Our beautiful city will be rebuilt. There is hope of a new, world-leading approach using wood, and modern building techniques that will be safe. Christchurch has faults, as we have sadly discovered, but with determination and love, it will be great again. And the people who were here will be forever connected by this shared experience.
Christchurch Quake February 2011 - the first week
This was originally posted on 27 February 2011, five days after the quake/
It is a clear sunny beautiful morning in Christchurch, New Zealand. It could be any Sunday in late summer, except we aren't going to church this morning. For short periods of time I forget, and life seems like normal. Then I remember not to use tap water to clean my teeth, or a helicopter flies over, and all of a sudden “It's still true.”
It is a clear sunny beautiful morning in Christchurch, New Zealand. It could be any Sunday in late summer, except we aren't going to church this morning. For short periods of time I forget, and life seems like normal. Then I remember not to use tap water to clean my teeth, or a helicopter flies over, and all of a sudden “It's still true.”
What is still true is that Christchurch, which escaped lightly from a 7.1 earthquake on 4 September 2010, has been badly damaged by a 6.3 earthquake on Tuesday 22 February 2011. For many people life will never be the same again. The city will never be the same again. It is truly dire. The damage to the central city and eastern suburbs has to be seen to be believed – and then it just seems like a nightmare.
Tuesday lunchtime. Rosie and I had just left my office on the third level of the Commerce building to go for a walk and chat as we do most Tuesdays. I had my keys and iPhone in my pocket and carried an umbrella. As the weather was a bit dodgy we decided to do two short laps of the university in case it rained. We had just entered the stairwell when an aftershock hit. But this was not like the aftershocks we had been experiencing since September – or rather we knew this one was a bad one. I grabbed on to the handrail or I would have fallen over, and Rosie pulled me back out of the stairwell and we stood by a wall on the third floor while the shaking continued. Elsewhere in the building people sheltered under tables and desks. Pieces of concrete fell in the stairwell, close to where we had been standing.
When the shaking stopped we headed back into the stairwell, where we made very slow progress to the bottom floor and out. Morgan, a young man I know who is blind, was ahead of me with his guide-dog, OJ and note-taker, Kate. They were walking rather slowly so I volunteered to be sighted-guide for Morgan. We walked out to an open grassy place near the Te Ao Marama building and waited there for further instructions. There were people streaming out of the university, mostly calm but worried, and many trying to contact people on their cellphones. While we were standing there another aftershock came through and I sat on the grass to avoid falling over. There is something so wrong about the ground beneath you moving like that.
I was shaking and a bit shocked and didn't really know what to do. It became apparent that we would not be going back in the buildings that day, and that we should go home. After initially splitting up with Morgan, I found him again. Rosie went home and I set out to take Morgan and OJ home to Westmoreland. That was a drive I will never forget. To start with it took over 30 minutes to get out of the carpark as, not surprisingly, everyone else was trying to get out. People were generally courteous and did the “Let one in and go”, though I got frustrated when the driver in front of me let everyone in before her. We were listening to Radio New Zealand National and hearing the terrible news about the Christchurch Central Business District.
All this time I was trying to contact home and Mark, but the phone lines were overloaded. About the time I got to Riccarton Road (1:52pm) I got a text through. Mark had been at the airport to pick up his mother who was due to arrive at 12:50, but her plane was late to leave Rotorua and thus missed landing as the earthquake hit. I then managed to get through to the landline and spoke to William. Things were all over the floor, but all of them were fine. No power and no water. The battery radio we had bought after the September Quake was bringing them news.
The traffic was barely moving. I had plenty of time to study the map to work out how to get to Morgan's house while avoiding bridges and difficult righthand turns. Part way down Blenheim Road a fire engine came through and the two lanes split to let it pass, our side mounting the kerb of the median strip. Just before we were due to turn right into Matipo Street another bad aftershock hit and the car bounced around. The earth was shaking every few minutes, but this was different. The high voltage power lines over Matipo Street shook alarmingly and a truck driver underneath them jumped out of his truck – probably unwisely, but who's to know? I was pretty stressed and the thought of being stationary under those lines if another shock hit was more than I could deal with. I waited until there was enough clear space before started out under them. It was only about 20m, but the traffic was so slow we could have been under them for several minutes.
Morgan was doing really well and we tried to chat about other things. OJ got a bit distressed and was panting away in front of him. We were trying to reach Morgan's mother to tell her that he was on his way home. I texted a message and had my phone sitting on my lap waiting for it to say that there was signal and then I sent it. Time and again it didn't get through, but finally at 1:55 it got through. We didn't get a response, and Morgan's mother, Brenda worked in town so we were both pretty anxious about that. I knew my own family was fine.
I remember feeling how much I did NOT want to be there. I wanted to be anywhere in the world except there right then. I grieved for my poor beautiful city and worried that many people had been hurt or killed. We had been so fortunate in the September quake to have no loss of life, but this was the real deal. I also wondered if I would be able to stay in Christchurch. After we escaped so lightly in the 7.1 quake I had felt confident that the big one had come and gone and nothing could hurt us.This seemed like a new quake and I wondered if I could ever feel safe again in Christchurch, and certainly any building. My confidence that it would not happen again had gone. Probably for good. If it could happen a second time, why not a third or fourth? Five months from now would there be another big one – only this time out at sea so we could have the novelty of a Tsunami to add to our troubles? How could we build again on shifting earth? Would tourists ever dare to visit now?
Finally about 3:00pm I made it to Morgan's house, where I could go to the toilet and was given a hot chocolate they had heated on a gas stove. Brenda told us about her walk home past the grey dust of the cathedral and Provincial Chambers. She told me of the statue headfirst into the paving, and the roads in metre-high peaks. It was so good to have that mission accomplished and Morgan home, but I knew I still had to get back across the city to home. Armed with a handful of therapeutic chocolates “left over from Christmas” (I'm sorry I don't understand – how does anyone have chocolates sitting in the house for two months and not eat them?) I headed back across the back route past Hornby and the airport. I picked up two hitch-hikers by the airport and took them to the main north road in Belfast before circling back in. It was all looking remarkably intact, though the traffic was heavy. The news reports got worse and worse.
The quake had hit in the worst possible time, with severe damage in the centre of town where people had been walking around at lunchtime, and eating at pavement cafes. Our heritage buildings had dropped their facades on innocent shoppers and office workers. And the landmark Cathedral spire had fallen, taking with it the people who had been admiring our tourist-attracting view.
It was such a relief to finally arrive home at 5:00pm. William and Mark and been working on the mess, but it was clear there was plenty more. After the earlier quake we had tied my four bookshelves together. That had worked – they didn't fall down, but all their contents were on the floor of my room. All our shelves in every room had emptied onto the floor. The woodpile had fallen over and onto our bicycles. The food-storage in the garage was on the floor. The fridge and freezer had come open and the power was off. Without water or power it is quite difficult to clean up. I cooked burgers on the barbecue, which made us all feel a bit better.
Mark and I walked the three blocks to check up on an elderly woman from church, who was fine, and her son from Lyttleton was with her. It was quite a mission just to get there as most of the streets were covered with silt and water from the liquefaction. Our block was fine, but one block away was badly hit. There was little traffic as none could move and many streets were impassable.
We left the dishes and went out to visit my sister who had power and water, and watched the television coverage. We saw on TV, Liz from church who had had a miraculous escape from the 6th (top) floor of the CTV building, which was pretty much levelled.
It was very difficult to do anything. Mark had noticed the quake in the airport, but thought it was no big deal. William had been at the computer in the corner of the dining room and watched and heard the shelves empty onto the kitchen floor. Jonathan had gone under his table. My mother had been at home and, though rattled, was safe. My brother, Peter, was at work in a multi-storeyed building and had helped evacuate a class of Japanese students and walked them out to St Andrews. My brother, Michael, from Brisbane, and his wife were out with my sister Linda, and her husband Des, in Brooklands, which was not hit as bad as previously, I suspect.
When we got home from there we went next door and asked if we could plug our freezer and fridge into their generator, which they kindly let us do. Fifteen minutes later the generator stopped and Jeremy knocked on the door to tell us that we had the power back on. We could watch the drama unfolding on television. All this time the aftershocks were frequent and quite strong.
So that was Tuesday. I finally made myself go to bed after midnight,
With frequent aftershocks I slept poorly and got up at 4:00am and watched the Food channel until the news coverage came on. I felt half-there. I was numb and tired and so sad. I sat and watched the TV coverage with tears welling up frequently. We were so lucky to have power and a safe and warm home. But my grief was for the life we had just lost. All certainty goes when the ground shakes like that. Could we still hold Jonathan's party, which was planned for Saturday and the reason why my family members were there from out-of-town? What would happen at university? Our group was already facing redundancies, and the stress was pervasive. How would we get going again? Was it even worth it?
Wednesday was worse than Tuesday in many ways. I once, many years ago, had concussion, and I think Wednesday felt like that. Nothing was real – nothing was normal. We went to get Rosemary from the airport. Mark dropped me off to meet her, and I found I had a 30 minute wait. It was frantically busy inside the terminal but sombre. I was not going to stay in that building any longer than I had to so I went for a walk. When I got back again there was another delay so I sat on the ground by a strong-looking pillar, beneath a strong-looking beam and played on my iPhone and dozed. It was nice to see Rosemary.
I had planned the meals for the week, so it was easy after a nap to make a barbecue again. We were so blessed to have the water come on again that afternoon. We were not allowed to use the sewerage yet. Mark dug a hole behind the garage on Tuesday and erected a seat over it. The boys weren't keen, but it was fine for the rest of us. Happily we were able to use the sewerage by Thursday afternoon so it was only a very short-term measure.
Wednesday remains a grey mist in my memory.
Thursday began with Mark quoting James Tillerman from Cynthia Voigt's “Homecoming”, saying “It's still true”. And that is how it is. You sleep and forget briefly that it has happened, and then wake to find that it is still true. Mark had a cold beginning so was feeling a bit poorly, but I felt as if I could do something. It was very difficult to focus on anything though – we went from task to task. We had just worked out a way to empty the bath and shower onto the lawn when we found we were able to use the sewerage again. Mark worked on the church authorised facebook page to find out from the various bishops what was happening and posting official notifications. Later we went out on our bikes and visited a few people from church. It was very tough travelling but much quicker than it would have been in the car. The roads are a mess over this side of town. I wrote in my journal “It is REALLY bad. Really really bad. Over our side of town the roads are broken and covered in silt. The centre city is such a mess it is hard to believe it will ever function again. Sewerage is not functioning for much of the city. Power may be off for several weeks for some people.”
We had some friends over for dinner and Alice and I watched a Chick Flick. A little piece of “normal” in such an abnormal world.
Friday morning was a bit surreal. Mark and I went to turn on the computers in the Stake Centre and to buy groceries at Fendalton New World where I normally shop. It was just like a regular day. I found it so disturbing to walk in and find it almost exactly as usual. That messed with my head. The only things that were out of stock were flour and water, and there was a more limited range of bread. I bought a few luxury items, to keep our spirits up and keep the economy going!;) We drove home through normal looking streets and turned on the television to see the reports of death and searching and amazing logistical feats to get essential services back to people.
Mark contacted all the people who were planning to come to the party to tell them that the party was off. Most people had worked that out, but we didn't like to assume. There are parts of the city where the earthquake has made little or no impact.
I have discovered a new kind of guilt, related to survivor guilt, which is comfort guilt. We have everything we need and only the minor inconvenience of reduced water pressure in the shower and the need to boil all water for washing dishes. (We have our own drinking water that we had stored, so don't even need to boil for that.) Our house is largely untouched, and our street is much as usual, apart from a few bumps. Meanwhile people we know and care about are dealing with houses that have broken apart, no power, no water, no sewerage, no food. We would like to be useful, but really just keeping off the roads and keeping my family well is a useful thing to do. We struggled through the clogged streets to help out at a food centre, but were told they had enough people. I made stew and toasties for firemen, but had trouble getting them to Suzy to get them out to them. There will be plenty of opportunities over the coming weeks to do things. Maybe what I can do is make sure that I am as compassionate and helpful as possible to my students when we get going again.
There is the question, do you watch the news or not? For this lovely peaceful sunny Sunday morning I have had my iPod on and just listened to beautiful music. It is easy to pretend that it isn't real. Then the news goes on at Mid-day and we are reminded that it is. Even as I write this on Sunday morning Urban Search and Rescue teams from many nations are picking through the ruins in the dwindling hope of finding survivors. I think when this report is over we will leave it off for the rest of the day.
I'm hoping that this somewhat full account will help to give an idea of what it is like to be here. It is like living in a movie or a dream, with strange patches of normality. There are enormous contrasts. There are fluctuating feelings and hope and despair. I feel an immense love for Christchurch city. I will not be leaving.
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