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.
Monday, 13 June 2011
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.
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