I write from a camping ground in Mt Cook National Park where, for the first time in my life, I have successfully put up a tent all by myself and am planning to spend two whole nights in a row sleeping outdoors, by myself.
The weather is surprisingly warm and I am looking forward to a few days of walking, kayaking, exploring, adventuring, relaxing...
I came from a jampacked family Christmas in Dunedin - four days, three of which were spent at the beach, all of which almost seemed clichéd in their perfection, spent with my entire family which now numbers 25 including my parent, my siblings and their spouses, my nieces and nephews, and me.
More on this later. I plan to fill you in on all the details of my summer holiday, along with copious photos.
The day I left Christchurch (December 23) there were more earthquakes - a 5.8 followed by a 5.3 and a 6.0. I was in a little old secondhand book shop when the first one hit, kneeling at the bottom of a tall bookcase. The whole store wobbled around me and I could feel the earth rocking and all around me books were falling down and narrowly missing me. It wasn't pleasant, and was probably the least safe I have ever felt during any of the earthquakes. I was supposed to be leaving the next day but I ended up going home, packing my things in about half an hour, and driving to Dunedin.
I think I'm a little shell-shocked by it because for the last few days I have constantly, inexplicably, felt like bursting into tears at odd moments, even though I've been having a great time. It's not rational at all and I don't understand it so I'm putting it down to shock, and to frustration that just as everything seemed to be improving the quakes have hit us again.
Showing posts with label quaking. Show all posts
Showing posts with label quaking. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Friday, November 25, 2011
the soundtrack of my year
My year started out with this song. This was a real feeling of congratulation that Christchurch had made it through a massive earthquake in 2010 and, though some buildings had fallen, the city remained intact. No one died. There was a tremendous sense of togetherness. I remember sitting in a pub at the Arts Centre with a cold Pimms and ginger ale on a summer evening looking around me and feeling so lucky to live here. I also remember playing this song to myself and thinking, I'm almost feeling this good, all I need to do now is finish my Masters and I can really feel it:
Then there was the earthquake on 22 February, and I remember wondering if I'd ever have a hope of listening to that song feeling good again, let alone not feeling sick.
For some time afterwards, I listened to this song over and over, and I'm not exactly sure why, but it captured how I felt without actually being at all about earthquakes:
A few weeks after the earthquake, the Japanese earthquake and tsunami happened, and in Christchurch there was this horrible realisation that we weren't as badly off as we could be, and what was happening to the world? And all I could listen to was this song and feel very dark and desperate:
Maybe it was the following songs that pulled me out of this a little bit... they're not particularly positive either but they helped:
I don't know when the turning point came, but during the remainder of the year I came to love Ella Fitzgerald:
... and Mumford and Sons:
Maybe I had calmed down a little? Probably it had something to do with finishing my Masters and learning to think clearly again.
And now it's this:
I'm sure I'll do a "summing up the year" blog post in a wee while so I don't want to steal all my own thunder... but it has definitely been a year of learning to rely on God. Did you know that we can't even rely on the ground beneath our feet? So I've learnt and I'm still learning to put them elsewhere, and I'm happy with the song my soundtrack finishes on.
Then there was the earthquake on 22 February, and I remember wondering if I'd ever have a hope of listening to that song feeling good again, let alone not feeling sick.
For some time afterwards, I listened to this song over and over, and I'm not exactly sure why, but it captured how I felt without actually being at all about earthquakes:
A few weeks after the earthquake, the Japanese earthquake and tsunami happened, and in Christchurch there was this horrible realisation that we weren't as badly off as we could be, and what was happening to the world? And all I could listen to was this song and feel very dark and desperate:
Maybe it was the following songs that pulled me out of this a little bit... they're not particularly positive either but they helped:
I don't know when the turning point came, but during the remainder of the year I came to love Ella Fitzgerald:
... and Mumford and Sons:
Maybe I had calmed down a little? Probably it had something to do with finishing my Masters and learning to think clearly again.
And now it's this:
I'm sure I'll do a "summing up the year" blog post in a wee while so I don't want to steal all my own thunder... but it has definitely been a year of learning to rely on God. Did you know that we can't even rely on the ground beneath our feet? So I've learnt and I'm still learning to put them elsewhere, and I'm happy with the song my soundtrack finishes on.
Saturday, October 29, 2011
graffiti
Graffiti in Christchurch - photo borrowed from a friend with permission:
"Christchurch - destined to rise"
"Ikarus"
Look, the thought's very nice, and his/her talent with a spray can is prodigious... but Icarus? Destined to rise? Really?!
Perhaps they started reading the story and got tired before the middle or the end.
Perhaps it's the name the artist uses on everything s/he does and my snark is pointless.
Either way, this made me giggle.
Friday, October 28, 2011
a week of firsts
1. I started my first proper grown-up job. Tried not to refer to it in that way at work and instead look professional and seasoned... well, perhaps not, but contrary to all expectations I did not get horribly nervous. I did not make horrible mistakes. I'm slipping into the work much quicker than I (and they) expected. I'm learning lots. I'm feeling quite privileged to get paid to do something that seems actually important and to work in something so closely associated with Canterbury earthquake recovery - pretty cool, really. Take that, all the people who said But what are you going to DO with a BA/MA? Future Arts grads, don't listen to them!
2. I bought my first car. !!! Rockin it in a Mazda Demio... okay, so it doesn't have that kind of a ring to it, but I'm pretty excited! I'm not actually picking it up until my birthday, as in NZ you pay less insurance after you're 25, so it made sense to wait a week.
3. It was my niece's first day at school on the same day I started work. She's five and very excited!
4. This week the buses started going through the city again, instead of around it, for the first time since the February earthquake. This may not seem that significant but the city has been like this big black hole in Christchurch where only people with hard hats and orange hi-visibility vests are allowed to go. The buses have been stopping on opposite sides of the CBD. This leads on...
5. The shopping district of Cashel Mall has all but disappeared. As you can see in the photo above, so much has been demolished while it's been cordoned off that it's barely recognisable. This goes for much of the city.
BUT! For the first time since February 22nd, they're opening up Cashel Mall to the public for shopping in shipping containers! See below.
Behold: the "pop-up mall".
It's not quite finished in the photo, but it's finished in reality, and tomorrow afternoon we'll be allowed into this part of the CBD once more to shop in this pop-up mall, eat and drink in pop-up cafés, et cetera.
I was a little sceptical until I saw the report on TV tonight about it, and it just looks so cool. It's very exciting to see the central city opening up for the first time, even if it's only a little bit, and in such a creative and fun way. Hurrah!
I will also be able to wander down in my lunch breaks on work days, as I work right on the edge of the CBD. Eating options have been limited, so this is also exciting.
It's SO GOOD to see Christchurch recovering little by little. There's a very long way to go. This has been something I've learnt even more this week as I've started my new job. It's easy to forget that things are crazy when you live in a fairly unaffected suburb and no longer visit the CBD. Now I'm there again, my work station reflects the buildings that are destined for demolition in its glass, and it seems ghostly. But life is returning slowly.
2. I bought my first car. !!! Rockin it in a Mazda Demio... okay, so it doesn't have that kind of a ring to it, but I'm pretty excited! I'm not actually picking it up until my birthday, as in NZ you pay less insurance after you're 25, so it made sense to wait a week.
3. It was my niece's first day at school on the same day I started work. She's five and very excited!
4. This week the buses started going through the city again, instead of around it, for the first time since the February earthquake. This may not seem that significant but the city has been like this big black hole in Christchurch where only people with hard hats and orange hi-visibility vests are allowed to go. The buses have been stopping on opposite sides of the CBD. This leads on...
5. The shopping district of Cashel Mall has all but disappeared. As you can see in the photo above, so much has been demolished while it's been cordoned off that it's barely recognisable. This goes for much of the city.
BUT! For the first time since February 22nd, they're opening up Cashel Mall to the public for shopping in shipping containers! See below.
Behold: the "pop-up mall".It's not quite finished in the photo, but it's finished in reality, and tomorrow afternoon we'll be allowed into this part of the CBD once more to shop in this pop-up mall, eat and drink in pop-up cafés, et cetera.
I was a little sceptical until I saw the report on TV tonight about it, and it just looks so cool. It's very exciting to see the central city opening up for the first time, even if it's only a little bit, and in such a creative and fun way. Hurrah!
I will also be able to wander down in my lunch breaks on work days, as I work right on the edge of the CBD. Eating options have been limited, so this is also exciting.
It's SO GOOD to see Christchurch recovering little by little. There's a very long way to go. This has been something I've learnt even more this week as I've started my new job. It's easy to forget that things are crazy when you live in a fairly unaffected suburb and no longer visit the CBD. Now I'm there again, my work station reflects the buildings that are destined for demolition in its glass, and it seems ghostly. But life is returning slowly.
Saturday, September 10, 2011
discoveries
You will probably remember how much I loved this angel tombstone in a cemetery near my father's house:
And you will probably remember that I was sad to discover that she had sustained quite some damage in the Christchurch earthquakes.
Today I started browsing the Christchurch Art Gallery's online galleries, and particularly their large collection of William (Bill) A. Sutton's work, which can be found here. He was an artist from Christchurch, born 1917, died 2000, and I've always had a thing for his work.
I was SO EXCITED to find among his sketches that he too liked the angel tombstone!
Here she is. Taken from this page on the gallery website.
It's a little hard to see, so I sharpened the picture here:
I admit I do wish he had been able to do something more with the sketch, but the fact that one of my favourite artists wandered round my city too, and liked the same things I like - that's cool enough as it is.
And you will probably remember that I was sad to discover that she had sustained quite some damage in the Christchurch earthquakes.Today I started browsing the Christchurch Art Gallery's online galleries, and particularly their large collection of William (Bill) A. Sutton's work, which can be found here. He was an artist from Christchurch, born 1917, died 2000, and I've always had a thing for his work.
I was SO EXCITED to find among his sketches that he too liked the angel tombstone!
Here she is. Taken from this page on the gallery website.
It's a little hard to see, so I sharpened the picture here:
I admit I do wish he had been able to do something more with the sketch, but the fact that one of my favourite artists wandered round my city too, and liked the same things I like - that's cool enough as it is.
Sunday, September 4, 2011
one year on
Today, it's one year on from the first major earthquake in the Canterbury region. When it happened, it's safe to say I had no idea how much things would change in Christchurch over the coming year. As you will probably be able to tell from reading my first earthquake blog post.
As I have probably said before, I'm a bit sceptical about the whole idea of officially remembering things based on an arbitrarily-selected portion of time. Also, it was really the February quake that turned things upside down.
Still, everyone else is doing it, and there's something about experiencing the sudden onset of spring at the moment that makes it easy to remember how things were a year ago.
And there's no denying that it was the September quake that made earthquakes a part of our consciousness. By the time the February quake hit, we'd been through thousands of miniature ones, almost every day. We'd seen our city closed to us, and we'd seen it reopened, and I for one had gained an entirely new perspective on the preciousness of my city. I remember sitting in the courtyard of the Dux de Lux sometime in January or early February looking out over the Gothic Revival architecture of the Arts Centre, a cold Pimms in hand, thinking how lucky I was to live in such a pleasant city and how close we'd come to losing it.
I can't remember all that much about the September earthquake, except that I was shaken awake, and it was very dark because all the streetlights went off and I thought vaguely to myself, wow, this is quite a reasonably sized earthquake. I wasn't even sure if it was worth getting up and checking on my flatmates until I heard them stumbling around in the dark. One of them was beside herself and I felt slightly frustrated with her, especially as I was still half-asleep and couldn't really grasp what was going on. One of them slept through it, which is kind of unbelievable in hindsight, but true. After checking on her, we sat around in the dark with candles on (apparently that's a big no-no) for about twenty minutes, I decided it must have been the Alpine Fault and hoped the people in the West Coast would be okay - has no idea that it was actually far closer to us. "Oh well," I said. "Let's go to bed."
The power stayed off until about 10am, and only then, when we were able to turn on the TV, did I start to realise what was going on.
Since then:
As I have probably said before, I'm a bit sceptical about the whole idea of officially remembering things based on an arbitrarily-selected portion of time. Also, it was really the February quake that turned things upside down.
Still, everyone else is doing it, and there's something about experiencing the sudden onset of spring at the moment that makes it easy to remember how things were a year ago.
And there's no denying that it was the September quake that made earthquakes a part of our consciousness. By the time the February quake hit, we'd been through thousands of miniature ones, almost every day. We'd seen our city closed to us, and we'd seen it reopened, and I for one had gained an entirely new perspective on the preciousness of my city. I remember sitting in the courtyard of the Dux de Lux sometime in January or early February looking out over the Gothic Revival architecture of the Arts Centre, a cold Pimms in hand, thinking how lucky I was to live in such a pleasant city and how close we'd come to losing it.
I can't remember all that much about the September earthquake, except that I was shaken awake, and it was very dark because all the streetlights went off and I thought vaguely to myself, wow, this is quite a reasonably sized earthquake. I wasn't even sure if it was worth getting up and checking on my flatmates until I heard them stumbling around in the dark. One of them was beside herself and I felt slightly frustrated with her, especially as I was still half-asleep and couldn't really grasp what was going on. One of them slept through it, which is kind of unbelievable in hindsight, but true. After checking on her, we sat around in the dark with candles on (apparently that's a big no-no) for about twenty minutes, I decided it must have been the Alpine Fault and hoped the people in the West Coast would be okay - has no idea that it was actually far closer to us. "Oh well," I said. "Let's go to bed."
The power stayed off until about 10am, and only then, when we were able to turn on the TV, did I start to realise what was going on.
Since then:
- we take less for granted, and we plan for everything that could go wrong.
- our social lives have become much more home-based. There are just far fewer places open.
- "quaking" is one of the largest labels on the right sidebar of this blog.
- we have a whole new vocabulary: "liquefaction", "munted", etc.
- we are never at a loss for small talk or for conversation starters.
- we have shaken our way through more than 8,000 sizeable quakes. It's a part of life now. And who knows when it will stop?
- we have had to put up with a new mythology growing, outside Christchurch, of "resilient Cantabrians" or "tough southerners" when in fact so many people feel fragile, under siege, and would like the rest of the country to understand this.
- having said that - I've personally learned a lot and come to understand myself a lot more.
- we've started noticing when bad things happen abroad.
- we've lost some people, some places and some things we can never recover.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
the latest addition to my family
I have a beautiful new niece who is two weeks old!
Her name is Eliza, which I think is a beautiful name, so pretty in fact that it has been on my own list of names-to-call-future-hypothetical-daughters for some time. But as these daughters are hypothetical, I'm perfectly happy for my sister and her husband to use the name on their real, solid, tiny little daughter.
She was born after a particularly quakey night in Christchurch. There was a magnitude 5.3 quake at about 10.30pm, centered very close to where we were, and it was followed by about nineteen more quakes throughout the night, right up until little Eliza was born at about 5:45am.
Eliza is going to be part of a strange little generation. Her class at school will be full of earthquake babies. And her elder sisters will grow up knowing rather an unnatural amount about earthquakes for children their age.
Anyway - musings about the future aside - you may remember I had been doing some knitting for my future niece, and I wrote about it a little while ago on this blog. Unfortunately, I decided in the end that the little wrap I made was just not good enough. It looked okay in the photo you saw, but that photo did not reveal all the flaws and mistakes that are just so obvious when I actually held the wrap in my hands.
So I had a go at something a little less challenging:
And I am glad I did, because I think they're rather cute!
Her name is Eliza, which I think is a beautiful name, so pretty in fact that it has been on my own list of names-to-call-future-hypothetical-daughters for some time. But as these daughters are hypothetical, I'm perfectly happy for my sister and her husband to use the name on their real, solid, tiny little daughter.
She was born after a particularly quakey night in Christchurch. There was a magnitude 5.3 quake at about 10.30pm, centered very close to where we were, and it was followed by about nineteen more quakes throughout the night, right up until little Eliza was born at about 5:45am.
Eliza is going to be part of a strange little generation. Her class at school will be full of earthquake babies. And her elder sisters will grow up knowing rather an unnatural amount about earthquakes for children their age.
Anyway - musings about the future aside - you may remember I had been doing some knitting for my future niece, and I wrote about it a little while ago on this blog. Unfortunately, I decided in the end that the little wrap I made was just not good enough. It looked okay in the photo you saw, but that photo did not reveal all the flaws and mistakes that are just so obvious when I actually held the wrap in my hands.
So I had a go at something a little less challenging:
And I am glad I did, because I think they're rather cute!
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
light and dark
I astonished myself today with a sudden lightning strike of self-knowledge. I am becoming a big GRUMP.
Perhaps this is my way of responding to the earthquakes. Other people get frightened or emotional; I get annoyed at the people around me and develop a tendency towards reclusiveness and become furious if anyone should dare to interrupt my solitude. And then I get angry at myself for being like this.
On the other hand, I have had some lovely things happen lately.
First, about a week ago my flatmate A. got engaged. This is very, very exciting and lovely. I have lived with A. for two and a half years and so I have seen the entire story and I am SO happy for them. It's also very exciting that we are going to be involved in all the preparation and get an inside point of view (this might not be everyone's cup of tea but I LOVE HELPING TO ORGANISE THINGS).
Secondly, last night I got to feel a baby in utero for the first time ever. As I already have twelve nieces and nephews I don't know how it got this far without having done this, but my sister J. is having a baby anytime now and yesterday I got to feel one of the baby's legs, still inside my sister, kicking around and squirming.
What a strange, bizarre, alien, miraculous, happy thing. Life is good.
Perhaps this is my way of responding to the earthquakes. Other people get frightened or emotional; I get annoyed at the people around me and develop a tendency towards reclusiveness and become furious if anyone should dare to interrupt my solitude. And then I get angry at myself for being like this.
On the other hand, I have had some lovely things happen lately.
First, about a week ago my flatmate A. got engaged. This is very, very exciting and lovely. I have lived with A. for two and a half years and so I have seen the entire story and I am SO happy for them. It's also very exciting that we are going to be involved in all the preparation and get an inside point of view (this might not be everyone's cup of tea but I LOVE HELPING TO ORGANISE THINGS).
Secondly, last night I got to feel a baby in utero for the first time ever. As I already have twelve nieces and nephews I don't know how it got this far without having done this, but my sister J. is having a baby anytime now and yesterday I got to feel one of the baby's legs, still inside my sister, kicking around and squirming.
What a strange, bizarre, alien, miraculous, happy thing. Life is good.
Monday, June 13, 2011
afterafteraftershocks
So, we've had a day of larger than normal earthquakes. (One of them was a 6.0, which is the third biggest yet.) We didn't lose power or water, so very thankful for that. And no one has been seriously hurt - thank God!
On the other hand:
(a) Over 50,000 homes DON'T have power. It is getting down to freezing every night at the moment so please pray that Christchurch families can find ways to keep warm tonight.
(b) More damage. Dang and blast. There was red tape around a lot of these buildings, so luckily they fell without hurting anyone. But a friend of mine, as an example, whose house made it through both the September and February quakes by the skin of its teeth, has now lost her home. It's twisted off its foundation. My sister and brother-in-law had repairs on their house finished last week, and will have to start from the beginning again. It really sucks.
(c) We have to start boiling water again which is just a huge pain.
(d) This is all really tiring. And emotionally draining. The quakes today weren't HUGE, but they were very violent and rather scary. The dominant emotion I have seen expressed today is this: I AM OVER IT. Is this going to continue - every three or four months, just when we're starting to feel like things might be getting more normal again?
On the plus side, again, no one is dead. But on the minus side, this makes it psychologically okay to complain about things like dangerous water or unsettling aftershocks.
*pulling myself together*
I'm fine. There is a chocolate pudding in the oven and the fire is on. I don't feel bleak, like I did after the February earthquake. I was at home when it happened so I didn't have to go through the whole evacuation saga again. There are many things in the world that I DON'T have to put up with. Consider my blessings counted!
Edit: The biggest quake on Monday, it turns out, was actually a 6.3 on the Richter scale - exactly the same size as the February earthquake. Photos here.
On the other hand:
(a) Over 50,000 homes DON'T have power. It is getting down to freezing every night at the moment so please pray that Christchurch families can find ways to keep warm tonight.
(b) More damage. Dang and blast. There was red tape around a lot of these buildings, so luckily they fell without hurting anyone. But a friend of mine, as an example, whose house made it through both the September and February quakes by the skin of its teeth, has now lost her home. It's twisted off its foundation. My sister and brother-in-law had repairs on their house finished last week, and will have to start from the beginning again. It really sucks.
(c) We have to start boiling water again which is just a huge pain.
(d) This is all really tiring. And emotionally draining. The quakes today weren't HUGE, but they were very violent and rather scary. The dominant emotion I have seen expressed today is this: I AM OVER IT. Is this going to continue - every three or four months, just when we're starting to feel like things might be getting more normal again?
On the plus side, again, no one is dead. But on the minus side, this makes it psychologically okay to complain about things like dangerous water or unsettling aftershocks.
*pulling myself together*
I'm fine. There is a chocolate pudding in the oven and the fire is on. I don't feel bleak, like I did after the February earthquake. I was at home when it happened so I didn't have to go through the whole evacuation saga again. There are many things in the world that I DON'T have to put up with. Consider my blessings counted!
Edit: The biggest quake on Monday, it turns out, was actually a 6.3 on the Richter scale - exactly the same size as the February earthquake. Photos here.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
the cordon
Today I did one of the things I've been intending to do for a while, but left until I had finished my thesis. I walked around the cordon in Christchurch's CBD. This has been up since the February earthquake, but has diminished in size somewhat. The 'red zone' still endures. It's guarded by police and the army. I didn't feel particularly comfortable going on a sightseeing walk earlier. But more than three months have passed since the earthquake. Now I just miss the city centre, and I wanted to see it with my own eyes.
There are flowers and messages pinned around the place:
There is interesting brickwork everywhere:
And there are plenty and plenty of fences separating you from potential danger:
It's what makes Christchurch one of the safest cities in the country at the moment, in my opinion. We've been told there's a 23% chance of another big earthquake over 6 on the Richter scale, and we had a reasonably big (5.5) aftershock yesterday morning, while there are smaller ones rumbling away every day. So, understandably, people are nervous. Having visited a couple of other cities since the whole earthquake situation got underway in September last year, however, makes me thankful that I am here, if only for the reason that all our dangerous buildings have come down already or are surrounded by security fences.
I took a lot of photos. Here are some:
Yes, that is a cathedral being held up by shipping containers.
This is the Grand Chancellor hotel, Christchurch's tallest building and our very own leaning tower. You can probably see that it's angled slightly awry? Unfortunately for every building in its way if it should fall, it's going to take over a year to demolish it, which means business owners won't be back in for a very long time.
The Provincial Chambers were one of the most dramatically ruined for me. Very sad. There are a bunch of similar Gothic Revival buildings which have crumpled, but this is the most terrible one (except Durham Street Methodist Church, which was practically razed). Thankfully, it will be one of the few buildings on the priority list for rebuilding.
It was very eerie walking around the city. Where traffic is allowed, it's pretty busy, but as soon as you walk down a street closer to the cordon, the silence is overwhelming. No - it's not silent - but all you can hear is a building being demolished a few blocks away, and a few birds. Ghostly.
It is also strange to see some blank spots where well-known buildings used to be. St Elmo Courts on Montreal Street. The Cranmer Centre on Armagh Street. And the CTV building on Madras Street is the most poignant of all in its absence. I'm glad I wasn't able to see it. I think approximately 100 people died in its rubble.
It was a comfort, however, to see a few places that are still open and functioning. C4 was an awesome little café on High Street that has all but fallen down. Their street is also closed and will be for a long time. So I had thought there was no chance of a C4 flat white anytime in the future. I did not know that the C4 company roasts its own coffee, and so stumbling across its premises near the city, with a functioning and funky (though quiet) café, was very exciting. Here is my trim flat white, and a piece of lolly cake:
Now I am (a) footsore; (b) a little awed at the difference it makes to see some of these places with my own eyes; (c) glad to have been into the city finally, and glad to have visited C4; but (d) a little sad again.
There are flowers and messages pinned around the place:
There is interesting brickwork everywhere:
And there are plenty and plenty of fences separating you from potential danger:
It's what makes Christchurch one of the safest cities in the country at the moment, in my opinion. We've been told there's a 23% chance of another big earthquake over 6 on the Richter scale, and we had a reasonably big (5.5) aftershock yesterday morning, while there are smaller ones rumbling away every day. So, understandably, people are nervous. Having visited a couple of other cities since the whole earthquake situation got underway in September last year, however, makes me thankful that I am here, if only for the reason that all our dangerous buildings have come down already or are surrounded by security fences.I took a lot of photos. Here are some:
Yes, that is a cathedral being held up by shipping containers.
This is the Grand Chancellor hotel, Christchurch's tallest building and our very own leaning tower. You can probably see that it's angled slightly awry? Unfortunately for every building in its way if it should fall, it's going to take over a year to demolish it, which means business owners won't be back in for a very long time.
The Provincial Chambers were one of the most dramatically ruined for me. Very sad. There are a bunch of similar Gothic Revival buildings which have crumpled, but this is the most terrible one (except Durham Street Methodist Church, which was practically razed). Thankfully, it will be one of the few buildings on the priority list for rebuilding.It was very eerie walking around the city. Where traffic is allowed, it's pretty busy, but as soon as you walk down a street closer to the cordon, the silence is overwhelming. No - it's not silent - but all you can hear is a building being demolished a few blocks away, and a few birds. Ghostly.
It is also strange to see some blank spots where well-known buildings used to be. St Elmo Courts on Montreal Street. The Cranmer Centre on Armagh Street. And the CTV building on Madras Street is the most poignant of all in its absence. I'm glad I wasn't able to see it. I think approximately 100 people died in its rubble.
It was a comfort, however, to see a few places that are still open and functioning. C4 was an awesome little café on High Street that has all but fallen down. Their street is also closed and will be for a long time. So I had thought there was no chance of a C4 flat white anytime in the future. I did not know that the C4 company roasts its own coffee, and so stumbling across its premises near the city, with a functioning and funky (though quiet) café, was very exciting. Here is my trim flat white, and a piece of lolly cake:
Now I am (a) footsore; (b) a little awed at the difference it makes to see some of these places with my own eyes; (c) glad to have been into the city finally, and glad to have visited C4; but (d) a little sad again.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
aftershock
I'm staying with my grandmother at the moment, while my aunt and uncle are away on holiday. She lives close to my old home where my father still lives and where I lived for about four years. One of my favourite spots in the area was the old church cemetery on the other side of the park. You may remember, if you followed my old blog, that I used to photograph one particular angel rather often:
I really loved that angel. She even inspired a story I wrote and published on Halfway Down the Stairs, a rather overwrought story in which I wish I had been slightly less melodramatic, but which still has a few elements I really like.
Silt that has seeped up through the ground during the quakes in the process of liquefaction
I really loved that angel. She even inspired a story I wrote and published on Halfway Down the Stairs, a rather overwrought story in which I wish I had been slightly less melodramatic, but which still has a few elements I really like.I went out for a walk this afternoon - it's a beautiful, beautiful autumn day - and found myself approaching my old haunt, the cemetery (gosh, I really did intend no pun there). Imagine my shock and feeling of sadness to be greeted by this:
Silt that has seeped up through the ground during the quakes in the process of liquefaction
It's a bit of a shock, actually. I had heard that a few cemeteries around the city looked quite different, since the September and February earthquakes. But it's always a surprise to actually see these spots for yourself.
Friday, April 8, 2011
thanks
The boil-water order has finally been lifted! A month and a half after the earthquake. We have been industriously boiling our water for weeks now. It's not so bad. But it's going to be very, very nice to return to normal habits of tooth-brushing and face-washing and dish-washing and water-drinking and so on.
In the spirit of celebration, which I feel has come upon me, I would like to mention some of the things that have cheered me up or helped me relax in the wake of the quake. There's quite a lot of things to pay tribute to. It will be a long list. In no particular order:
1. Thanks to the woman in the Otago Museum shop, when I visited with my two small nieces about a week after the earthquake. I was having a day of feeling particularly bad, feeling useless, and wishing I was back in Christchurch. When she found out that I was from Christchurch, and had brought my nieces down so my sister could work, she said: "I just think that what you are doing is wonderful. You're doing something so very helpful and practical when the rest of us just feel so helpless!" It really, really helped me! Thanks very much!
2. Thanks to Oscar, pictured below:
Oscar is a bichon frise-Jack Russell cross. He is happy and excitable and loves to be cuddled. When I was staying with my sister in Dunedin, I took him for a lot of walks and I found it very healing to be around such a simple, happy, faithful creature who took such pleasure in Life. Dogs are good for the soul, I think.
3. Thanks to a facebook page, You Know You're From Christchurch When... The idea is: light relief makes everybody feel better. It certainly made me feel better. Here are some of the best contributions. Here, also, is a photo added to the site which I thought was really cute.
4. A poem written about the earthquake. I thought this was amazing.
5. The memorial service on March 18 at Hagley Park in Christchurch, which I attended, had moments of sheer tediousness but also moments of loveliness. These were some of my favourites:
The unanimous, spontaneous standing ovations of the crowd for the search and rescue teams and the fire service.
The video montage they showed at the end of the service of people helping people, rising above the disaster. This is one of my favourite things of all.
Prince William's speech was unexpectedly touching. That is one promising prince.
A beautiful performance of Pie Jesu by Dame Malvina Major and a choir boy called Patrick Manning.
The haka at the start.
Hayley Westenra's performance of Amazing Grace.
It was also quite amazing singing the national anthem towards the end of the service. I felt just about as patriotic as I will ever feel. It was also amazing feeling the extreme appropriateness of our anthem's wonderful lyrics.
6. The song written by a band in Wellington as a tribute, all proceeds to the Red Cross fund. It's called Morning Light and I think it's rather beautiful.
7. The funny song written by a Christchurch resident. Rewritten from Tim Finn's "There's a Fraction Too Much Friction", it is called "There's a Fraction Liquefaction". (Liquefaction is the process by which hundreds of thousands of silt and mud appeared on the streets of Christchurch.) I love it when people manage to find humour in situations like this.
8. Another example of this is the website Show Us Your Long Drop. This was a competition for the most creative outdoor loos. Creativity out of necessity.
9. The skaters who have found opportunity in the twisted streets of eastern Christchurch.
10. Some of the cool ideas for rebuilding Christchurch. Creative and exciting! They make the whole horrid experience seem like an opportunity in disguise.
11. Feeling proud of my city, proud of my nation, for the way most of us have handled this experience. As this writer says.
12. No thanks to Ken Ring, the conspiracy theorist/weather presenter/author of "Pawmistry: How to Read Your Cat's Paws", who decided it was a good idea to predict a huge earthquake, even bigger than the ones before, on March 20. His prediction was based entirely on pseudo-science, but he managed to terrify a rather large percentage of Christchurch's population. A lot of us felt very, very angry at him and were jubilant when, of course, no major earthquake struck on March 20. We were even more jubilant when this video appeared, mocking Ken Ring, very successfully.
13. Thank you to Bruce Springsteen for his "My City of Ruins". Handel's "Comfort Ye, My People". U2's "Sunday Bloody Sunday". Brooke Fraser's "Shadowfeet". Coldplay's "Everything's Not Lost". And many more. Music in general, really. On the day of the earthquake, soon after I got home, we were sitting around feeling absolutely miserable. We thought about praying but didn't know what to pray other than the simplest calls for help, and then we suddenly decided to get out our guitars and sing. We sang songs to God and they expressed everything we wanted to say, and it was a really powerful thing to be able to do. I don't think I'll ever forget that experience. So thanks to music. Thanks to my wonderful flatmates that I could do something like that with them. And thanks to God for getting us through this time.
14. And thanks to you guys who have borne with my slightly dark blogging style since February. It's hard to express how wonderful it has been to have support and prayers from all over the world in a time like this. I've heard an idea being tossed around over and over since the quake, since the nations of the world turned up to help us in little New Zealand, and since the quake and tsunami in Japan, and it is this: Why on earth do we bother with war, when working together is so utterly wonderful?
In the spirit of celebration, which I feel has come upon me, I would like to mention some of the things that have cheered me up or helped me relax in the wake of the quake. There's quite a lot of things to pay tribute to. It will be a long list. In no particular order:
1. Thanks to the woman in the Otago Museum shop, when I visited with my two small nieces about a week after the earthquake. I was having a day of feeling particularly bad, feeling useless, and wishing I was back in Christchurch. When she found out that I was from Christchurch, and had brought my nieces down so my sister could work, she said: "I just think that what you are doing is wonderful. You're doing something so very helpful and practical when the rest of us just feel so helpless!" It really, really helped me! Thanks very much!
2. Thanks to Oscar, pictured below:
Oscar is a bichon frise-Jack Russell cross. He is happy and excitable and loves to be cuddled. When I was staying with my sister in Dunedin, I took him for a lot of walks and I found it very healing to be around such a simple, happy, faithful creature who took such pleasure in Life. Dogs are good for the soul, I think.3. Thanks to a facebook page, You Know You're From Christchurch When... The idea is: light relief makes everybody feel better. It certainly made me feel better. Here are some of the best contributions. Here, also, is a photo added to the site which I thought was really cute.
4. A poem written about the earthquake. I thought this was amazing.
5. The memorial service on March 18 at Hagley Park in Christchurch, which I attended, had moments of sheer tediousness but also moments of loveliness. These were some of my favourites:
The unanimous, spontaneous standing ovations of the crowd for the search and rescue teams and the fire service.
The video montage they showed at the end of the service of people helping people, rising above the disaster. This is one of my favourite things of all.
Prince William's speech was unexpectedly touching. That is one promising prince.
A beautiful performance of Pie Jesu by Dame Malvina Major and a choir boy called Patrick Manning.
The haka at the start.
Hayley Westenra's performance of Amazing Grace.
It was also quite amazing singing the national anthem towards the end of the service. I felt just about as patriotic as I will ever feel. It was also amazing feeling the extreme appropriateness of our anthem's wonderful lyrics.
6. The song written by a band in Wellington as a tribute, all proceeds to the Red Cross fund. It's called Morning Light and I think it's rather beautiful.
7. The funny song written by a Christchurch resident. Rewritten from Tim Finn's "There's a Fraction Too Much Friction", it is called "There's a Fraction Liquefaction". (Liquefaction is the process by which hundreds of thousands of silt and mud appeared on the streets of Christchurch.) I love it when people manage to find humour in situations like this.
8. Another example of this is the website Show Us Your Long Drop. This was a competition for the most creative outdoor loos. Creativity out of necessity.
9. The skaters who have found opportunity in the twisted streets of eastern Christchurch.
10. Some of the cool ideas for rebuilding Christchurch. Creative and exciting! They make the whole horrid experience seem like an opportunity in disguise.
11. Feeling proud of my city, proud of my nation, for the way most of us have handled this experience. As this writer says.
12. No thanks to Ken Ring, the conspiracy theorist/weather presenter/author of "Pawmistry: How to Read Your Cat's Paws", who decided it was a good idea to predict a huge earthquake, even bigger than the ones before, on March 20. His prediction was based entirely on pseudo-science, but he managed to terrify a rather large percentage of Christchurch's population. A lot of us felt very, very angry at him and were jubilant when, of course, no major earthquake struck on March 20. We were even more jubilant when this video appeared, mocking Ken Ring, very successfully.
13. Thank you to Bruce Springsteen for his "My City of Ruins". Handel's "Comfort Ye, My People". U2's "Sunday Bloody Sunday". Brooke Fraser's "Shadowfeet". Coldplay's "Everything's Not Lost". And many more. Music in general, really. On the day of the earthquake, soon after I got home, we were sitting around feeling absolutely miserable. We thought about praying but didn't know what to pray other than the simplest calls for help, and then we suddenly decided to get out our guitars and sing. We sang songs to God and they expressed everything we wanted to say, and it was a really powerful thing to be able to do. I don't think I'll ever forget that experience. So thanks to music. Thanks to my wonderful flatmates that I could do something like that with them. And thanks to God for getting us through this time.
14. And thanks to you guys who have borne with my slightly dark blogging style since February. It's hard to express how wonderful it has been to have support and prayers from all over the world in a time like this. I've heard an idea being tossed around over and over since the quake, since the nations of the world turned up to help us in little New Zealand, and since the quake and tsunami in Japan, and it is this: Why on earth do we bother with war, when working together is so utterly wonderful?
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
allie is very happy and very grateful
I am a happy camper, because my thesis stuff has been restored to me! This morning I assembled with a few other postgrads and staff from the History building at the Civil Defence HQ on campus, and we got to enter our offices and grab what we could in 5 minutes. As you will see from the photo below, I was VERY ENTHUSIASTIC about this.
Here, I have just signed in at NZi3 centre on Creyke Road, and I am "authorised to be on campus". Woot!
We are given hard hats and hi-visibility vests, while our footwear is checked. Fabulous. Most of us are carrying several bags - I carried one large overnight bag with my backpack and three shopping bags inside it. Then we walked across campus, under supervision of the wonderful people in red boiler suits and matching hard hats who spend their days helping postgrads and staff retrieve their most necessary belongings from their buildings within the cordon.
Here we are outside the history building, exactly one month after we ran out of it in the 6.3 shake of 22 February, listening to a safety briefing. We enter the building with one civil defence volunteer to two of us, and are given five minutes to pack up all our essential belongings. Once in, I gather all my papers and ringbinders, stuffing them randomly into bags. I race down the hallway to the break room, where we were eating lunch when the quake hit, and retrieve my favourite coffee mug - it is of sentimental value, made for me personally when I was a baby! I race back to my office, and start shovelling ALL my books - personal and library ones - into the shopping bags. They probably total fifty or sixty all together. I stagger out of the room, a very happy MA student:
Thank goodness they had a van waiting outside to carry our things back to the NZi3 centre, where my father's car was parked. I don't know how far I would have made it alone!! Them books are heavy.It's hard to convey how happy I feel. Up until now, I have been living in a state of complete indecision. It has been really hard to do ANY work without all my stuff, and I had no idea when it would be possible to get my stuff. It is a really strange thing, living one day at a time. I've had it remarkably easy in comparison with people whose homes fell down or have no job to go to, so I don't want to exaggerate - but I am really, really looking forward to having no excuse not to work. I am looking forward to finishing my thesis! I am looking forward to setting up a routine again! Yeah, some things will be different, but now I can look into the future again, and it feels good. Very, very good.
So - THANK YOU, Civil Defence personnel. You are wonderful, lovely people. I will be baking you a very large chocolate cake and bringing it in tomorrow.
Monday, March 21, 2011
memories in Christchurch
After the earthquake, so many of the places I have built my memories around are changed forever. I thought I would do a blog post in memory of some of my favourite haunts. Some may be rebuilt, but the majority have become (or soon will become) an empty slate for the future.
ChristChurch Cathedral is the giant of this list for most Cantabrians. It was the distinctive icon of our city. Located literally in the centre of Christchurch, with the town built around it, all roads pointing in towards it, it seemed impregnable. When someone told me, after the quake, that they couldn't see the spire of the cathedral from their office as usual, I simply couldn't believe it and told them it must have been the misty conditions.This photo was taken at dawn on Anzac Day - April 25, 2010 - when we remembered our fallen soldiers outside the cathedral.
This is the cathedral now.
The Canterbury Provincial Chambers were the former seat of local government. I wandered round them maybe once a year, took photos, enjoyed the stained glass and thought how lucky I was to live somewhere with buildings like this. The photos I took I often used for Halfway Down the Stairs; in fact the profile picture for our facebook page currently uses a photo from the Provincial Chambers.
Here is a picture of my friend K. before our graduation in 2008. For University of Canterbury graduations, all graduands march from here, the Arts Centre (the former site of the university), to the town hall - about seven minutes walk - where the ceremony begins. K. is standing in front of the Court Theatre, one of Christchurch's best theatres, which like almost all of them has undergone such extensive damage it is unclear whether it will ever open again. I think the UC graduation processions will be a long time coming, too. I would love to be able to graduate with my MA properly. It would be even more meaningful after the experiences of this year. But... I'm trying not to get my hopes up.
This is my favourite secondhand bookstore. (Photo from Google Maps streetview - 9 Riccarton Road.) It was run by a church, nonprofit for a charity, and every book was $2 or $3 TOPS.
The band rotunda in Hagley Park, where I sometimes take my nieces to dance and sing. (I'm not sure why, but it seems like a good place to dance around singing songs from Mary Poppins.) I haven't seen any photos, but I understand it's badly damaged now.
The Dux de Lux - pictured here featuring my friends in the outdoor area. This was my favourite restaurant/bar. I had my birthday dinner there five months ago and I've popped in for coffee or a beer at least four times since then. One of the pleasantest, most vibrant places in town for a drink, on the edge of the Arts Centre. It was the Student Union building when my dad was at university.
St John's Latimer Square, an evangelical Anglican church, where my sister was married in 2004 (above), and where a bunch of my friends go. This was one of the buildings that sustained most damage in the September earthquakes, and I could only find a photo of it as it was in September. I understand it is all but destroyed now.
The Catholic Basilica towered over the Christchurch School of Music, where I spent every Saturday morning and many Tuesday evenings during my childhood and teen years. A beautiful building inside and out, I also entered it to perform in concerts. I will always remember performing Allegri's 'Miserere Mei, Deus' in my recorder ensemble from an upper gallery - the acoustics so perfect that the music we made sounded like the most angelic thing I had ever heard. I took this photo about nine years ago while I waited for my parents to pick me up.
The Canterbury Provincial Chambers were the former seat of local government. I wandered round them maybe once a year, took photos, enjoyed the stained glass and thought how lucky I was to live somewhere with buildings like this. The photos I took I often used for Halfway Down the Stairs; in fact the profile picture for our facebook page currently uses a photo from the Provincial Chambers.
Here is a picture of my friend K. before our graduation in 2008. For University of Canterbury graduations, all graduands march from here, the Arts Centre (the former site of the university), to the town hall - about seven minutes walk - where the ceremony begins. K. is standing in front of the Court Theatre, one of Christchurch's best theatres, which like almost all of them has undergone such extensive damage it is unclear whether it will ever open again. I think the UC graduation processions will be a long time coming, too. I would love to be able to graduate with my MA properly. It would be even more meaningful after the experiences of this year. But... I'm trying not to get my hopes up.
This is my favourite secondhand bookstore. (Photo from Google Maps streetview - 9 Riccarton Road.) It was run by a church, nonprofit for a charity, and every book was $2 or $3 TOPS. It's a rather more shocking view now - and, sadly, someone died in its rubble.
The band rotunda in Hagley Park, where I sometimes take my nieces to dance and sing. (I'm not sure why, but it seems like a good place to dance around singing songs from Mary Poppins.) I haven't seen any photos, but I understand it's badly damaged now.
The Dux de Lux - pictured here featuring my friends in the outdoor area. This was my favourite restaurant/bar. I had my birthday dinner there five months ago and I've popped in for coffee or a beer at least four times since then. One of the pleasantest, most vibrant places in town for a drink, on the edge of the Arts Centre. It was the Student Union building when my dad was at university.I walked past it on Friday - it's at the edge of the cordon, which my flatmate and I wandered around after the memorial service at Hagley Park. Doesn't look particularly good, but it does look salvageable. I hope it comes back fighting, as strong as ever.
St John's Latimer Square, an evangelical Anglican church, where my sister was married in 2004 (above), and where a bunch of my friends go. This was one of the buildings that sustained most damage in the September earthquakes, and I could only find a photo of it as it was in September. I understand it is all but destroyed now.Heritage churches in general have not come out of the earthquakes well.
The Catholic Basilica towered over the Christchurch School of Music, where I spent every Saturday morning and many Tuesday evenings during my childhood and teen years. A beautiful building inside and out, I also entered it to perform in concerts. I will always remember performing Allegri's 'Miserere Mei, Deus' in my recorder ensemble from an upper gallery - the acoustics so perfect that the music we made sounded like the most angelic thing I had ever heard. I took this photo about nine years ago while I waited for my parents to pick me up.Tuesday, March 8, 2011
allie's emergency survival kit!
So - disaster strikes. You have no power, no water, no sewerage (or you HAVE water but it's unsafe). There are holes in your roof/floor/insert other crucial structure here. You may have no access to your workplace. What will you need?
Based on my experience, and the experience of people around me, of the last two weeks, here is:
Allie's Guide To Surviving Natural Disasters. With Particular Reference to Earthquakes.
A Guide to the things you really should start thinking about putting aside NOW. Because you never know when you may need them.
(Number One) [and I write it out fully because it is that important] Clean Water.
Even in Christchurch, where the emergency services are brilliantly organised, you want to have enough water to survive for a few days. If you don't particularly trust your government to get things sorted quickly, put aside enough water for a week or two. If you can afford to buy big plastic containers in which to store large amounts of water, great. If you can't, do what I did and simply clean out juice bottles when you've drunk all the juice, and start putting them aside with clean water in them. If you're really careful, put them in two different places, in case one secret cache gets buried under rubble.
(2) A source of light. With extra batteries. Obvious, but necessary. Candles are okay, but not particularly safe or easy to use.
(3) Hygiene items. These are very, very important, but most people do not think to put these things aside. Trust me, if you're living in a disaster zone, you really are not going to be able to just pop down to the shops for some tampons. Buy some now, put them aside!!
Hand sanitizer is also crucial. Unless you want to get gastroenteritis or similar nasties, that is.
Finally, if like me you really hate not washing your hair for several days in a row, I would really recommend buying a dry shampoo of any kind and putting it aside. It will make you feel MUCH better when there is no water available. Things are always much darker, much more depressing, when you have greasy hair.
(4) If you have any crucial medications, KEEP SPARES somewhere. I know a bunch of people who, as the quake hit, ran straight out of their offices, leaving incredibly important prescription drugs behind. It was the sensible thing to do, really, but no one would let them back in afterwards to retrieve them. If you're lucky, you'll be able to get to a pharmacy, but if you're not, you're in trouble.
(5) If you have babies or small toddlers: Nappies. Formula. Baby wipes (which, in an emergency, have the double use of cleaning baby and cleaning You).
(6) A tarpaulin and rope. This will cover holes left in your roof by falling chimneys, for example, and so will keep rain out. Or, it will provide shelter or ground cover when you have to sleep outside. (I'm serious. I know of people whose million dollar homes are rubble and they are now sleeping under a tarp in the back yard.) Or, it will provide a modest little screen to hide the hole in the ground you had to dig for unmentionable reasons. On that note, also make sure you have a spade.
For ideas, view this awesome website which chronicles Cantabrians' alternative loo arrangements over the last two weeks :)
(7) Food. I suppose this is rather obvious, and it looks like it should be higher up the list. We found, however, that we could survive fairly well on what we had in the shelves for a few days, at least. At some point, however, you are going to run out of these things, and so if you happen to be trapped at home without access to supermarkets or aid all of a sudden, canned or non-perishable food is a must.
(8) Cash. For fairly obvious reasons. Although if you have all of the above, you will be able to cope for a while without it.
On a less necessary but helpful note
You will be able to cope without these things, but they will also make life a lot easier:
(9) Camping gear like a small gas stove with refills, a chemical toilet, a solar shower and a tent. These four things will make you very happy in a disaster zone. Especially the chemical toilet. And even if your house is liveable and you don't need the tent, chances are one of your neighbours will.
(10) Things to do. Especially if you have kids. Colouring books and pencils, or books, or activities. It may seem silly, but you will feel SO MUCH BETTER if you have access to your iPod or something like that which can be used without having to plug it in.
You may feel slightly silly taking all these precautions. People may even mock you. Just do it anyway, and imagine the satisfaction when all your careful preparations come in handy! For example, I had the satisfaction in the first quake (September last year) in knowing that the very night before the quake, my flatmate had mocked me for putting aside clean water for emergencies. Suddenly, when the water was unsafe to drink and we had no electricity to boil it, she didn't think I was so crazy after all!
One more small note.
The first quake to hit Christchurch was not so serious, partially because it was at night, but the nocturnal aspect brought with it a few issues:
(1) Earthquakes tend to break things. For this reason, you should find shoes or slippers as quickly as possible. When you go stumbling about your house trying to assess the damage in the pitch black because the power is off, you really don't want to step on all the broken glass in bare feet.
(2) If you decide to run out of your house, try to remember - in the split second you are actually thinking - whether you have any clothes on. I know someone who dashed out of her house stark naked and only realised when she was already outside, along with all the neighbours. (I also heard about someone who was having a bikini wax when the February quake struck. Hmm. Apparently the beautician wouldn't let her run outside until she'd found her underwear.)
Based on my experience, and the experience of people around me, of the last two weeks, here is:
Allie's Guide To Surviving Natural Disasters. With Particular Reference to Earthquakes.
A Guide to the things you really should start thinking about putting aside NOW. Because you never know when you may need them.
(Number One) [and I write it out fully because it is that important] Clean Water.
Even in Christchurch, where the emergency services are brilliantly organised, you want to have enough water to survive for a few days. If you don't particularly trust your government to get things sorted quickly, put aside enough water for a week or two. If you can afford to buy big plastic containers in which to store large amounts of water, great. If you can't, do what I did and simply clean out juice bottles when you've drunk all the juice, and start putting them aside with clean water in them. If you're really careful, put them in two different places, in case one secret cache gets buried under rubble.
(2) A source of light. With extra batteries. Obvious, but necessary. Candles are okay, but not particularly safe or easy to use.
(3) Hygiene items. These are very, very important, but most people do not think to put these things aside. Trust me, if you're living in a disaster zone, you really are not going to be able to just pop down to the shops for some tampons. Buy some now, put them aside!!
Hand sanitizer is also crucial. Unless you want to get gastroenteritis or similar nasties, that is.
Finally, if like me you really hate not washing your hair for several days in a row, I would really recommend buying a dry shampoo of any kind and putting it aside. It will make you feel MUCH better when there is no water available. Things are always much darker, much more depressing, when you have greasy hair.
(4) If you have any crucial medications, KEEP SPARES somewhere. I know a bunch of people who, as the quake hit, ran straight out of their offices, leaving incredibly important prescription drugs behind. It was the sensible thing to do, really, but no one would let them back in afterwards to retrieve them. If you're lucky, you'll be able to get to a pharmacy, but if you're not, you're in trouble.
(5) If you have babies or small toddlers: Nappies. Formula. Baby wipes (which, in an emergency, have the double use of cleaning baby and cleaning You).
(6) A tarpaulin and rope. This will cover holes left in your roof by falling chimneys, for example, and so will keep rain out. Or, it will provide shelter or ground cover when you have to sleep outside. (I'm serious. I know of people whose million dollar homes are rubble and they are now sleeping under a tarp in the back yard.) Or, it will provide a modest little screen to hide the hole in the ground you had to dig for unmentionable reasons. On that note, also make sure you have a spade.
For ideas, view this awesome website which chronicles Cantabrians' alternative loo arrangements over the last two weeks :)
(7) Food. I suppose this is rather obvious, and it looks like it should be higher up the list. We found, however, that we could survive fairly well on what we had in the shelves for a few days, at least. At some point, however, you are going to run out of these things, and so if you happen to be trapped at home without access to supermarkets or aid all of a sudden, canned or non-perishable food is a must.
(8) Cash. For fairly obvious reasons. Although if you have all of the above, you will be able to cope for a while without it.
On a less necessary but helpful note
You will be able to cope without these things, but they will also make life a lot easier:
(9) Camping gear like a small gas stove with refills, a chemical toilet, a solar shower and a tent. These four things will make you very happy in a disaster zone. Especially the chemical toilet. And even if your house is liveable and you don't need the tent, chances are one of your neighbours will.
(10) Things to do. Especially if you have kids. Colouring books and pencils, or books, or activities. It may seem silly, but you will feel SO MUCH BETTER if you have access to your iPod or something like that which can be used without having to plug it in.
You may feel slightly silly taking all these precautions. People may even mock you. Just do it anyway, and imagine the satisfaction when all your careful preparations come in handy! For example, I had the satisfaction in the first quake (September last year) in knowing that the very night before the quake, my flatmate had mocked me for putting aside clean water for emergencies. Suddenly, when the water was unsafe to drink and we had no electricity to boil it, she didn't think I was so crazy after all!
One more small note.
The first quake to hit Christchurch was not so serious, partially because it was at night, but the nocturnal aspect brought with it a few issues:
(1) Earthquakes tend to break things. For this reason, you should find shoes or slippers as quickly as possible. When you go stumbling about your house trying to assess the damage in the pitch black because the power is off, you really don't want to step on all the broken glass in bare feet.
(2) If you decide to run out of your house, try to remember - in the split second you are actually thinking - whether you have any clothes on. I know someone who dashed out of her house stark naked and only realised when she was already outside, along with all the neighbours. (I also heard about someone who was having a bikini wax when the February quake struck. Hmm. Apparently the beautician wouldn't let her run outside until she'd found her underwear.)
Sunday, March 6, 2011
things that are good
I've been feeling a bit bad lately that I've been loading all this dark earthquake stuff on you guys. And now that I'm back in Christchurch I'm feeling a lot more ... normal. So here is my list of things that are good in the midst of all the crappiness.
1. Having a home. As the facebook page says, you know you're in Christchurch when you are lucky to have a roof over your head, even when you're a millionaire. Also, being home.
2. Recent newsflash - the 22 bodies they expected to find under the rubble of the Cathedral were simply not there! A nice change to the rising-bodycount-stories.
3. This is not Haiti. This is not Libya.
4. There are plenty of ways to help out. The Student Volunteer Army is one of the more famous ways. There's also the 'Farmy Army' which rolled into town with its farm equipment and, with the SVA, got rid of a few hundred thousand tons of silt. There is also the Christchurch Baking Army and Comfort for Christchurch, to whom I dropped off sixty muffins (see below) and a bunch of other things today. You can volunteer for the Red Cross, or at a shelter for displaced people, or you can just drive over to the affected areas and start door-knocking and handing out supplies on your own initiative.
5. In the middle of all of this, people have a sense of humour. See the photo below. Also see Rocky, an uninvited guest to a Redcliffs home.
6. All these things are coming to the surface so visibly in a really moving way: Love, community spirit, humility, friendship, unity, inclusiveness.
7. I have family and friends who are alive and well.
8. I think my eyes have perhaps been opened a little. I will not scoff light-heartedly at material possessions again. They are useful, and the people whose possessions have vanished in the blink of an eye are living hard lives right now. At the same time, I have to recognise how little we have that is permanent, and how unnecessary many things are that I wanted before.
9. I am learning to appreciate people I didn't really value before, or look at them in new ways. Businesses and commerce are important. Many of them have been very kind in the wake of the earthquake. Engineers, the natural enemy of the University of Canterbury arts student, are important and hard-working. Strong muscles are useful, as shown by the video below:
10. Because the cordon around the city is still in place, we are unable to return some DVDs we got out from a central video store. :) Much more time to watch period dramas (Tess of the D'Urbervilles, Rebecca, and Sense and Sensibility) and classic movies (The Great Dictator, The Great Gatsby, and Love in the Afternoon)!
11. I know this is not particularly relevant to quaking, but there is a new issue of Halfway Down the Stairs out, and I really like it. That in itself makes me happier.
1. Having a home. As the facebook page says, you know you're in Christchurch when you are lucky to have a roof over your head, even when you're a millionaire. Also, being home.
2. Recent newsflash - the 22 bodies they expected to find under the rubble of the Cathedral were simply not there! A nice change to the rising-bodycount-stories.
3. This is not Haiti. This is not Libya.
4. There are plenty of ways to help out. The Student Volunteer Army is one of the more famous ways. There's also the 'Farmy Army' which rolled into town with its farm equipment and, with the SVA, got rid of a few hundred thousand tons of silt. There is also the Christchurch Baking Army and Comfort for Christchurch, to whom I dropped off sixty muffins (see below) and a bunch of other things today. You can volunteer for the Red Cross, or at a shelter for displaced people, or you can just drive over to the affected areas and start door-knocking and handing out supplies on your own initiative.
5. In the middle of all of this, people have a sense of humour. See the photo below. Also see Rocky, an uninvited guest to a Redcliffs home.
6. All these things are coming to the surface so visibly in a really moving way: Love, community spirit, humility, friendship, unity, inclusiveness.
7. I have family and friends who are alive and well.
8. I think my eyes have perhaps been opened a little. I will not scoff light-heartedly at material possessions again. They are useful, and the people whose possessions have vanished in the blink of an eye are living hard lives right now. At the same time, I have to recognise how little we have that is permanent, and how unnecessary many things are that I wanted before.
9. I am learning to appreciate people I didn't really value before, or look at them in new ways. Businesses and commerce are important. Many of them have been very kind in the wake of the earthquake. Engineers, the natural enemy of the University of Canterbury arts student, are important and hard-working. Strong muscles are useful, as shown by the video below:
10. Because the cordon around the city is still in place, we are unable to return some DVDs we got out from a central video store. :) Much more time to watch period dramas (Tess of the D'Urbervilles, Rebecca, and Sense and Sensibility) and classic movies (The Great Dictator, The Great Gatsby, and Love in the Afternoon)!
11. I know this is not particularly relevant to quaking, but there is a new issue of Halfway Down the Stairs out, and I really like it. That in itself makes me happier.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
thoughts of Christchurch
It's been an exhausting week. For me, probably not half so exhausting as many of the people who are still in Christchurch. I've been looking after my two nieces, both of whom were away from their parents for the first time ever - let alone having been through a major disaster. They've been little heroines, but it's definitely taken it out of me. I think it's more than that, though. There's an emotional exhaustion. I ingest as much of the news from Christchurch as I possibly can. I would sit with my ears glued to the radio all day, every day, if I could. This doesn't make me feel any better. But I need to feel involved. I'm finding it really hard to bear being away. I'm hoping to go back on Monday but I feel like I need to keep in check with reality a bit and remember why I'm here. If my sister and her husband need me to be here, I can't just go skipping back to Christchurch. But I wish I could. I know how fortunate I am to be able to shower etc but I feel like I need to experience what everyone else in Christchurch is experiencing.
Below is a photo someone took from the hills as the buildings of the city fell on Tuesday the 22nd of February:
It blows my mind. With the last earthquake, we all rolled our eyes a bit at the way the media was portraying the CBD. Of course, it was bad - we weren't denying that the buildings that had been affected were very bad - but it was just like the media to show only those buildings and not the ones still standing. This time, the few people who are allowed into the CBD are saying that the media have almost not reflected accurately enough just how bad it really is. A friend of mine burst into tears as she was escorted in to collect her car, because she could never have imagined her city so devastated. It's reported that the public won't even be allowed back into the CBD until Christmas. Christchurch is a broken city. It's very depressing to imagine, and to hear reports of the hardship in the suburbs. Thousands of people are suddenly homeless. They've lost everything.
As sympathetic as people in Dunedin are, it's just not the same as being with people who love Christchurch because it's their home. On the cover of the Otago Daily Times today, there was an article about how, although the earthquake is really horrible, it may bring growth to the Otago region through all the people who will inevitably leave Christchurch and bring their careers/businesses/skills here. It felt like a slap in the face. (That's not the attitude of most people, thank goodness. They're desperate to help, so sympathetic that I feel like a fraud because personally I've lost very few possessions. We've had three different people drop off meals at my sister's house simply because she was housing Christchurch refugees.)
Part of the difficulty of being away is that you can't help out practically, like the thousands of people digging up silt or distributing baking or taking supplies to stranded families by mountain bike. I'm not saying doing this is easy. But it is very depressing to watch from a distance, invested in it so heavily because it's your home, the city you grew up in, yet unable to experience the overwhelming community spirit of the people of Christchurch or the determination that does exist to survive this. Below is a photo a friend posted on facebook:
Sandcastles made from the silt currently covering large areas of the city... we can rebuild. Such an encouraging message, and exactly what I needed to hear, and it could only come from residents of Christchurch.
Voices from Christchurch: on video.
Below is a photo someone took from the hills as the buildings of the city fell on Tuesday the 22nd of February:
It blows my mind. With the last earthquake, we all rolled our eyes a bit at the way the media was portraying the CBD. Of course, it was bad - we weren't denying that the buildings that had been affected were very bad - but it was just like the media to show only those buildings and not the ones still standing. This time, the few people who are allowed into the CBD are saying that the media have almost not reflected accurately enough just how bad it really is. A friend of mine burst into tears as she was escorted in to collect her car, because she could never have imagined her city so devastated. It's reported that the public won't even be allowed back into the CBD until Christmas. Christchurch is a broken city. It's very depressing to imagine, and to hear reports of the hardship in the suburbs. Thousands of people are suddenly homeless. They've lost everything.As sympathetic as people in Dunedin are, it's just not the same as being with people who love Christchurch because it's their home. On the cover of the Otago Daily Times today, there was an article about how, although the earthquake is really horrible, it may bring growth to the Otago region through all the people who will inevitably leave Christchurch and bring their careers/businesses/skills here. It felt like a slap in the face. (That's not the attitude of most people, thank goodness. They're desperate to help, so sympathetic that I feel like a fraud because personally I've lost very few possessions. We've had three different people drop off meals at my sister's house simply because she was housing Christchurch refugees.)
Part of the difficulty of being away is that you can't help out practically, like the thousands of people digging up silt or distributing baking or taking supplies to stranded families by mountain bike. I'm not saying doing this is easy. But it is very depressing to watch from a distance, invested in it so heavily because it's your home, the city you grew up in, yet unable to experience the overwhelming community spirit of the people of Christchurch or the determination that does exist to survive this. Below is a photo a friend posted on facebook:
Sandcastles made from the silt currently covering large areas of the city... we can rebuild. Such an encouraging message, and exactly what I needed to hear, and it could only come from residents of Christchurch.Voices from Christchurch: on video.
Friday, February 25, 2011
from dunedin
I am currently in Dunedin staying with my sister V. My sister J brought me and her two daughters down on Wednesday, and has driven back up today so she can work at the hospital while childcare centres are closed. The idea is that I am helping Christchurch by not being a burden on it and by providing childcare for doctors, but just like last time I feel horribly guilty for being away. Trying to be rational. But still feeling overwhelmed with love for my home and sorrow at the way things are right now. I don't have the energy to think about how different things will be on the streets of Christchurch, once elegant, pleasant and cheerful, in the coming years.
I'm happy at the number of people they have managed to pull out of the rubble alive, and so incredibly proud of the people of the city who have been working valiantly and thoughtfully in the rescue effort, and so grateful to all the teams that have flown in from around the country and the world to lend their generous hands. We're not lucky, but it is wonderful to live in a stable country with good organisational systems to cope with a situation like this, and to have good international relationships. But I feel particularly bleak about those still trapped, dead or alive. The father of a good friend from church was in the CTV building, which has been pronounced "100% unsurvivable". Friends of my sister's walked from the centre of the city then over the Port Hills to get to their homes in Lyttleton (the centre of the quake) and were crushed on the way by boulders dislodged by aftershocks. Everyone knows someone who has died, or someone whose life has been transformed by the death of a loved one.
Dunedin has been my refuge from horrible things several times now, and I'm very grateful for the chance to shower, wash my hair, flush the toilet without thinking about it, brush my teeth with tap water, pop down to the supermarket, catch a bus, visit the bank, etc, etc. But in my heart I just want to be at home. My supervisor, who recently moved to Australia, emailed me to find out if I was safe, and when I had replied with reassurance he said how horrible it was to be among people whose lives just went on when, for him, it was like a part of himself had been ripped away.
Here are some photos of Christchurch before and after.
Aerial footage of the city.
I'm happy at the number of people they have managed to pull out of the rubble alive, and so incredibly proud of the people of the city who have been working valiantly and thoughtfully in the rescue effort, and so grateful to all the teams that have flown in from around the country and the world to lend their generous hands. We're not lucky, but it is wonderful to live in a stable country with good organisational systems to cope with a situation like this, and to have good international relationships. But I feel particularly bleak about those still trapped, dead or alive. The father of a good friend from church was in the CTV building, which has been pronounced "100% unsurvivable". Friends of my sister's walked from the centre of the city then over the Port Hills to get to their homes in Lyttleton (the centre of the quake) and were crushed on the way by boulders dislodged by aftershocks. Everyone knows someone who has died, or someone whose life has been transformed by the death of a loved one.
Dunedin has been my refuge from horrible things several times now, and I'm very grateful for the chance to shower, wash my hair, flush the toilet without thinking about it, brush my teeth with tap water, pop down to the supermarket, catch a bus, visit the bank, etc, etc. But in my heart I just want to be at home. My supervisor, who recently moved to Australia, emailed me to find out if I was safe, and when I had replied with reassurance he said how horrible it was to be among people whose lives just went on when, for him, it was like a part of himself had been ripped away.
Here are some photos of Christchurch before and after.
Aerial footage of the city.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
more quaking
Just a note to let you know that I am fine. As far as I know, my family in Christchurch is also fine. As far as I can see from the clues on facebook, my friends appear to be fine - a relief, when I know a number who work in the CBD. A few have had nasty experiences, like being trapped in a lift.
I was on the university campus when it happened, eating lunch with some friends in our break room. The earthquake hit, someone said "holy cow", and we all dived under tables or doorways. This is strange, because this is literally the first time I've ever got under anything in the progression of big earthquakes since September 2010. It is also the first time I've actually felt in any danger, in the buildings I have happened to be in. As I sat under the doorway I could see cracks appearing in the hallways before my eyes and the whole building rumbled and creaked, five floors of concrete above us on the second storey.
We got out as soon as it stopped - this means, unfortunately, that my wallet, computer and so on are still sitting in my office, although fortunately I have my keys and my cellphone - and assembled in one of the carparks nearby. Just a few minutes later another big one hit, and this was strange, because normally the quakes are very difficult to feel outside. This one was quite different; I felt like I was standing on water, and had to brace myself against a car, which was rocking back and forth quite violently itself. If you looked up you could see all the buildings swaying. Very weird.
The scary part now was waiting to find out what was going to happen. It is impossible to have got through the last five months without learning what this kind of quake means for our city buildings, which have all been slowly weakened over time by aftershock after aftershock. It was also easy to imagine the possibilities to the people of the city, especially in the middle of a busy working day. The first rumour I heard was that the spire of the cathedral was gone. Then I heard about buses crushed by falling buildings and that was when I started to feel confirmed in my feeling that this was very very serious. The cellphone networks were very clogged, as were the roads, and I was getting text message after text message from family and friends, who obviously were not receiving my replies, so I walked home to use our landline.
It was so good to see my flatmates. Three of them were at home, quite shaken up but okay, and the other one got home soon after me. No power but we had a handy transistor radio our power company sent us in case of another major shake - thank you Meridian! My stereo fell off its shelf plus a bunch of books etc, but no broken glasses this time. I rang all my family in different cities, couldn't get through to my sister in Christchurch but other relatives had been in contact. She had been unable to get in touch with her husband and her kids, who were in their daycare, and so she walked from the hospital in the CBD all the way to the hospital on the outskirts of the city where her husband works - at 23 weeks pregnant. My grandmother was fine, cheerful as always - she is a trooper. My dad is out of town at the moment.
Soon after I got home, I was talking to my sister in Dunedin on the phone, and another big aftershock hit. Lucky her, she got to listen to me getting under the table and then suddenly realising that water was pouring through our roof. Turned out our chimney had just fallen down, breaking something on its way, and our bathroom and laundry was rapidly flooding. I feel quite proud of the fact that I rushed outside with my toolbox, found the mains, and turned off the water. Girl power! This did mean, however, that now we had neither water nor power.
So, we have evacuated to my father's house in another part of town. It has both water and power, although we're boiling all water just in case. We're not allowed to take showers or flush toilets or anything like that because the plumbing and sewerage infrastructure has just been so badly damaged. It is very nice to be able to watch TV, though, and go online to find out if friends are okay. I'm hoping to be able to get into my building at uni if they consider my need is urgent enough (i.e., I have no money), but I don't know if they'll let me. And who knows how long this could last?
Right now, Christchurch needs your prayers, and any other kind of help you can offer. There are lots of people working extremely hard to free people trapped in buildings, there are many other people homeless, and, as for myself and many others, it was impossible to sleep through the night with earthquake after earthquake rolling in. Exhaustion is inevitable, and we've all just had enough of this. We thought we had had the big one. Turns out we were in store for more. I don't want to think how long it's going to take to make things "normal"again. Certainly much longer than five months. But God is very good and can bring good things even out of something like this.
I was on the university campus when it happened, eating lunch with some friends in our break room. The earthquake hit, someone said "holy cow", and we all dived under tables or doorways. This is strange, because this is literally the first time I've ever got under anything in the progression of big earthquakes since September 2010. It is also the first time I've actually felt in any danger, in the buildings I have happened to be in. As I sat under the doorway I could see cracks appearing in the hallways before my eyes and the whole building rumbled and creaked, five floors of concrete above us on the second storey.
We got out as soon as it stopped - this means, unfortunately, that my wallet, computer and so on are still sitting in my office, although fortunately I have my keys and my cellphone - and assembled in one of the carparks nearby. Just a few minutes later another big one hit, and this was strange, because normally the quakes are very difficult to feel outside. This one was quite different; I felt like I was standing on water, and had to brace myself against a car, which was rocking back and forth quite violently itself. If you looked up you could see all the buildings swaying. Very weird.
The scary part now was waiting to find out what was going to happen. It is impossible to have got through the last five months without learning what this kind of quake means for our city buildings, which have all been slowly weakened over time by aftershock after aftershock. It was also easy to imagine the possibilities to the people of the city, especially in the middle of a busy working day. The first rumour I heard was that the spire of the cathedral was gone. Then I heard about buses crushed by falling buildings and that was when I started to feel confirmed in my feeling that this was very very serious. The cellphone networks were very clogged, as were the roads, and I was getting text message after text message from family and friends, who obviously were not receiving my replies, so I walked home to use our landline.
It was so good to see my flatmates. Three of them were at home, quite shaken up but okay, and the other one got home soon after me. No power but we had a handy transistor radio our power company sent us in case of another major shake - thank you Meridian! My stereo fell off its shelf plus a bunch of books etc, but no broken glasses this time. I rang all my family in different cities, couldn't get through to my sister in Christchurch but other relatives had been in contact. She had been unable to get in touch with her husband and her kids, who were in their daycare, and so she walked from the hospital in the CBD all the way to the hospital on the outskirts of the city where her husband works - at 23 weeks pregnant. My grandmother was fine, cheerful as always - she is a trooper. My dad is out of town at the moment.
Soon after I got home, I was talking to my sister in Dunedin on the phone, and another big aftershock hit. Lucky her, she got to listen to me getting under the table and then suddenly realising that water was pouring through our roof. Turned out our chimney had just fallen down, breaking something on its way, and our bathroom and laundry was rapidly flooding. I feel quite proud of the fact that I rushed outside with my toolbox, found the mains, and turned off the water. Girl power! This did mean, however, that now we had neither water nor power.
So, we have evacuated to my father's house in another part of town. It has both water and power, although we're boiling all water just in case. We're not allowed to take showers or flush toilets or anything like that because the plumbing and sewerage infrastructure has just been so badly damaged. It is very nice to be able to watch TV, though, and go online to find out if friends are okay. I'm hoping to be able to get into my building at uni if they consider my need is urgent enough (i.e., I have no money), but I don't know if they'll let me. And who knows how long this could last?
Right now, Christchurch needs your prayers, and any other kind of help you can offer. There are lots of people working extremely hard to free people trapped in buildings, there are many other people homeless, and, as for myself and many others, it was impossible to sleep through the night with earthquake after earthquake rolling in. Exhaustion is inevitable, and we've all just had enough of this. We thought we had had the big one. Turns out we were in store for more. I don't want to think how long it's going to take to make things "normal"again. Certainly much longer than five months. But God is very good and can bring good things even out of something like this.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
the glorious future
I've been thinking about what I'm going to do when I finish my thesis.
1. Let off the party poppers a friend gave me for this very occasion. Drink some wine, eat some chocolate, generally have as good a time as I can afford (which isn't much).
2. Think up a really good I-have-finished-my-thesis facebook status update. The priorities we have these days...!
3. Get a job, earn some money. The thought is so novel I do not know what to make of it!!
4. Start writing a novel. Any novel.
5. Read more novels and serious works of literature without frying my brain.
6. Join Amnesty International properly, and actually take an active part in something voluntarily.
7. Have downtime. Time in which I do not have half my mind thinking about my thesis.
8. Spend some time thinking about my options without feeling like I don't have time to think about my options.
9. Tend some plants.
10. ... Any further ideas?
Quaking update: We have now a grand total of 2,488 earthquakes since the big 'un on September 4. The small, continuous ones have stopped coming every day, but every few days we get a comparatively big one. They've become a part of life and it will be very weird when they stop! At what point, I wonder, do they stop being aftershocks and become earthquakes in their own right?
1. Let off the party poppers a friend gave me for this very occasion. Drink some wine, eat some chocolate, generally have as good a time as I can afford (which isn't much).
2. Think up a really good I-have-finished-my-thesis facebook status update. The priorities we have these days...!
3. Get a job, earn some money. The thought is so novel I do not know what to make of it!!
4. Start writing a novel. Any novel.
5. Read more novels and serious works of literature without frying my brain.
6. Join Amnesty International properly, and actually take an active part in something voluntarily.
7. Have downtime. Time in which I do not have half my mind thinking about my thesis.
8. Spend some time thinking about my options without feeling like I don't have time to think about my options.
9. Tend some plants.
10. ... Any further ideas?
Quaking update: We have now a grand total of 2,488 earthquakes since the big 'un on September 4. The small, continuous ones have stopped coming every day, but every few days we get a comparatively big one. They've become a part of life and it will be very weird when they stop! At what point, I wonder, do they stop being aftershocks and become earthquakes in their own right?
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