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.
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