In the latest news from Christchurch......
It is understood mayor Bob Parker has just asked Maori for all the blankets and muskets back, because the land was faulty.
Showing posts with label earthquake. Show all posts
Showing posts with label earthquake. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
And so they start...
There are more to come, but it is always hard to gauge when it is the right time to send them out...then I figured, "Hell, we have a sense of humour down here, so buggar it!"
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Inside the Red Zone...
Please excuse this post, it doesn't seem to portray it as well as I imagnised. But if nothing else, and as if you hadn't seen enough photos, I hope it gives another insight into our devestated city.
Well today was a surreal moment. Those in the PWC Building were invited into the Red Zone to spend an hour and a half in the building retrieving whatever we could in that time. We met at the Basilica (which in itself is sad to look at) and were required to sign in, provide ID, and the don the hard hats and hi-vis before jumping on a bus and given a safety briefing, not to dissimilar than those on a plane; "In the unlikely event of an earthquake..." Good to see the sense of humour still simmers below the pain.
Well today was a surreal moment. Those in the PWC Building were invited into the Red Zone to spend an hour and a half in the building retrieving whatever we could in that time. We met at the Basilica (which in itself is sad to look at) and were required to sign in, provide ID, and the don the hard hats and hi-vis before jumping on a bus and given a safety briefing, not to dissimilar than those on a plane; "In the unlikely event of an earthquake..." Good to see the sense of humour still simmers below the pain.
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| At the checkpoint - stark reminder of what we were in for |
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| Munn's Menswear on Armargh - been around since the dawn of time, survived the last quake. I bought my wedding suit from here late last year. |
Driving through town, up Barbadoes and into Armargh (avoiding the obvious area near the Grand Chancellor) it was like a scene out of The Quiet Earth...the only people we saw were the odd Police Officers and Army personnel manning cordons, and as light relief, a small portable kitchen providing meals for those still working inside "Checkpoint Charlie". Everywhere there were signs of what used to be buildings, but you couldn't for the life of you think of what was there...more what wasn't there if that makes sense?
Above left; tenants and USAR wait outside PWCAbove right; view from our floor, looking east up Armargh St - this is the start of the "Arts District"
Above left; view from our floor looking north, Avon River in foreground, punting shed to right. The pile of rubble is what is left of the PGC Building.Above right; PGC site - no words can describe it, none needed.
We pulled up outside PWC, on Armargh, and the first thing you notice is the quiet...Armargh is a busy thoroughfare, with banks, office blocks, and famous landmarks such as New Regent St (which has the tram running right through it), Copenhagen's Bakery, Munn's Menswear, and Costa's Souvlaki. You can never find a park here, let alone be the only one in the queue at Yellow Rockets for a coffee, in the Burrito house, or for a trim at Bojangles. And yet apart from us, and a few engineers and USAR escorts, it was reminiscent of the aftermath of a nuclear bomb. Literally.
Above left; view south. The building in the middle is the Cathedral, to the right it's spire would normally dominate this view, standing as tall as the building to the right.
Above right; looking south-east, Manchester St. Came worst off in Sept 10, what survived then wasn't so lucky this time round.
We then walked up the thirteen flights to our floor (the building is 20 floors, and some were going up there!) and I have to admit, the devastation on our floor was minimal considering what you see around you at ground level. Sure, things have tipped onto the floor, filing cabinets on their sides, light fittings and roof panels smashed here and there, but relatively little. There were seven of us, and we had our own backpacks for our personal belongings and then anything else was what we could carry down and place into nine wheelie bins provided to us that would be trucked back to the check in point.
Above left; south, towards the tram depot at the bottom of New Regent
Above right; Part of New Regent - the tram travels through here - the cleared rubble from the right is from Sept 10
Above left; The famous Copenhagen's Bakery - you could barely get a seat in here, let alone one of their famous pies as they were always sold out before you got in. Note the footpath in front, sunken from liquefaction.Above right; Jake and Katie take a rest from doing the stairs.
Left; that famous window in the Forsythe Barr Building
Above; Westpac, corner of Armargh and Colombo
So, I was done quickly, and moved my attention to the essentials. I lugged 14 dozen beers and two cases of wine (oh yeah, and some snacks from the Friday Night stash) and prepared them for being taken back down. We were only to go down and back up one at a time, so it took some time to get stuff shipped to the street, and furniture was not allowed in case of blocking the stairwell in another shake. Shame, we left four large screen TVs, copiers, faxes, couches, stereos, chairs, desks...well, the list is endless.
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| Above; the Burrito house Left; Me and Morne show off the new season's fashions |
Above left; New Regent St. We used to have Friday drinks and nibbles in the restaurant to the right. Great noodle house a bit further up. Our favourite coffee shop is right, out of shot, and Costa's left out of shot.
Above right; Calendar Girls, local strip club. Makes you wonder who came out these windows, and in what state of dress...
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| A poignant shot of a flag lowered to half mast. |
With about 20mins to go, we were pretty much done, a lot of stuff was to be left behind and didn't seem worth recovering, and with the help of our 'minders', we lugged the remaining gear *and booze!) down the stairs to place in the bins...imagine the cheers from those on other floors as we trudged out with arms full of booze...good old fashioned ribbing followed; "How do we get a job at Vodafone?", "Your shout!", "Good to see the important things were saved!".
With the bins loaded up and placed onto the trucks, we had a bit of time to chat to other tenants, share stories, look at the immediate area, take some shots...and then on the bus again and back to the Basilica.
It was an odd afternoon...not what I thought; at no time did I feel insecure, scared, worried. But at the same time, I cannot say I felt entirely normal or comfortable, sort of like a kid being weaned off his security blanket. What I knew and was part of the landscape had changed, maybe irreparably, maybe forever, and even if it were restored, would it, or could it, ever be the same?
Time heals all wounds, but some pain cuts right to the core.
The mind is its own place, and in itself
Can make a heav’n of hell, a hell of heav’n.
Fear; reality vs. perceived
Today I will be entering the Red Zone and with some colleagues we will go back into our building, the Price Waterhouse Coppers Building, 13th Floor.
Some people have reservations about this, and that's fair enough as it won't be entirely pleasant, but it is only by choice to go in, and for me it is a mix of morbid curiosity as well as recovering some items still (hopefully) on my desk. I am not in there to face any fears, extinguish any demons, or any other 'spiritual' need, it's just that I have to.
One of my colleagues, who it would be fair to say had a particularly bad experience up there on the day posted on Facebook about making a decision to go up or not. You can imagine everybody has and had a say about it, some reasonable I suppose, some downright tacky and tack-less. I threw in my five cents worth of course, I cannot shut my mouth sometimes, but one particular response on the post got me thinking quote unquote;
I'm with K*** on this, there is nothing that important. CTV and PGG buildings were green stickered as well. There is no way I'm going back in there.
Now I may be wrong here, but since when did a green sticker determine a building's ability to withstand an earthquake??? This twat has compared apples and pork chops; to insinuate that PGG and CTV collapsed because they were incorrectly stickered is ludicrous and the knee jerk reaction to put fear into another. The colour of the sticker is there to advise safety and suitability for people to enter and work within the building only; earthquakes and other natural disasters withstanding of course.
If something were to happen while up there, so be it, that's just life...I could as easily be hit by a falling koala as I step out onto the footpath later on, or choke on the smoke I have once back outside..;.shit happens, no point in wrapping yourself up in cotton wool.
On my return I will possibly post again, this may well be down to how the experience affects me.
Just for the record, this is in no way meant to point out idiots of nature, they do that well enough themselves, but to make a point - this is only my view and I respect other's, but there is a logic to thinking and portraying one's thoughts suitably.
Some people have reservations about this, and that's fair enough as it won't be entirely pleasant, but it is only by choice to go in, and for me it is a mix of morbid curiosity as well as recovering some items still (hopefully) on my desk. I am not in there to face any fears, extinguish any demons, or any other 'spiritual' need, it's just that I have to.
One of my colleagues, who it would be fair to say had a particularly bad experience up there on the day posted on Facebook about making a decision to go up or not. You can imagine everybody has and had a say about it, some reasonable I suppose, some downright tacky and tack-less. I threw in my five cents worth of course, I cannot shut my mouth sometimes, but one particular response on the post got me thinking quote unquote;
I'm with K*** on this, there is nothing that important. CTV and PGG buildings were green stickered as well. There is no way I'm going back in there.
Now I may be wrong here, but since when did a green sticker determine a building's ability to withstand an earthquake??? This twat has compared apples and pork chops; to insinuate that PGG and CTV collapsed because they were incorrectly stickered is ludicrous and the knee jerk reaction to put fear into another. The colour of the sticker is there to advise safety and suitability for people to enter and work within the building only; earthquakes and other natural disasters withstanding of course.
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| Warning - Green Sticker capable of giving extremely painful paper cuts!! |
If something were to happen while up there, so be it, that's just life...I could as easily be hit by a falling koala as I step out onto the footpath later on, or choke on the smoke I have once back outside..;.shit happens, no point in wrapping yourself up in cotton wool.
On my return I will possibly post again, this may well be down to how the experience affects me.
Just for the record, this is in no way meant to point out idiots of nature, they do that well enough themselves, but to make a point - this is only my view and I respect other's, but there is a logic to thinking and portraying one's thoughts suitably.
Monday, March 14, 2011
Revisiting Christchurch...
Now this might be an odd title considering I live in CHCH, but trust me, with what has happened the last fortnight or so, there has been little or no chance for me, or anyone (barring dickheads on sightseeing tours and looters!) to get back to the heart of the city and see first-hand what was the result of 22 Feb 11.
I myself had avoided going back in. No specific reason, maybe a combination of little ones; there are people trying to do a job, and they don't need me in the way; could I actually cope with seeing it; there are dead still there, it is due the respect that comes with that. But last Friday I called in on a customer who needed some assistance and their 'new' premises were on Fitzgerald Ave, one of the "four aves" of CHCH that border the no-go-zone. I have to admit, it was with trepidation that I agreed to catch up with them - the following Monday I was attending the funeral of a victim; the following Friday, the remembrance service in Hagley Park - it just didn't seem right to go in there before everyone else. But I did, and just like a script, it rained.
If we were to be hit by another large jolt, even this positive person would admit that it could well be the end of Christchurch...I dearly hope not, I have no desire to leave...but I am just one.
I myself had avoided going back in. No specific reason, maybe a combination of little ones; there are people trying to do a job, and they don't need me in the way; could I actually cope with seeing it; there are dead still there, it is due the respect that comes with that. But last Friday I called in on a customer who needed some assistance and their 'new' premises were on Fitzgerald Ave, one of the "four aves" of CHCH that border the no-go-zone. I have to admit, it was with trepidation that I agreed to catch up with them - the following Monday I was attending the funeral of a victim; the following Friday, the remembrance service in Hagley Park - it just didn't seem right to go in there before everyone else. But I did, and just like a script, it rained.
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| cnr Fitz and Kilmore |
I love the rain, it makes sitting in a car, or in your house seem so much safer and cosier, but as I drove through Fendalton, past Halgey, across Bealey, and into Fitzgerald the rain took on a much more sombre and morbid tone. Things I did not notice, or blanked from that day jumped out at me on every street corner, in every house, on people's faces. It started with the roads...going along Bealey, a trip I have done so many times before at a reasonable clip had my lowered car bouncing off every undulation, bottoming out on raised manhole covers, threatening to rip the floor pan out on each subsidence. Past the Knox Church, the Carlton, and the bridge crossing the Avon River at Kilmore. The eyes were seeing, but the brain was not computing. More than once I stopped and looked at the scene around me. The first was at a Ford Laser parked on the side of the road. there was liquefaction built up around it - it obviously had not moved since that afternoon. It got me thinking; this car is outside the Red Zone, so why hasn't it been claimed? Have the owners fled? Or is the owner somewhere in the city, the car waiting, like a loyal dog, for it's owner's return. Chilling.
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| On Fitzgerald |
Only a little further down the road, traffic was swerving from lane to lane like drunks as they avoided the numerous cracks (and not just cracks, big fuck off holes in the bitumen) and sunken holes. If it wasn't them, you risked motion sickness from the wavy nature of the surface. I have sped (ahem) down this stretch at 60-70 without a care in the world, but doing so now would risk ripping the bottom of the car out, or at best losing the front bumper.There is talk of the repair to buildings, but in looking at the roading, it seems literally ripping it all up and starting again.
To my right, the Grand Chancellor, soaring higher than most in CHCH and visible almost from anywhere - trust me, what you see on the news does not compare to seeing the potential for disaster that awaits with this structure - it is eerie. You are transfixed to it as you cannot help but think that with such a lean, it must drop right now, as you watch. It seems to defy physics.
Once I had finished with my customer, I headed back out of town via Edgeware Road. I grew up 40kms out of Cheviot on gravel roads...they were a walk in the park compared to the route I had taken here. Those with Range Rovers and Cayennes and other urban four wheel drives finally get to do what they are designed for.
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| Papanui Rd - used to be a pet shop here which doesn't bear thinking about. Before, you could not see the building behind. |
The following day I had to drop out on another customer in Shirley. I took Katie and the girls with me - it was time for them to see their home and get a sense of reality so easily muffled by the medium of television. Everywhere we went, there was "we had lunch there", or "remember when we took the kids to that?"...All I can say is that there were tears, nothing more needs to be said.
If we were to be hit by another large jolt, even this positive person would admit that it could well be the end of Christchurch...I dearly hope not, I have no desire to leave...but I am just one.
Me and Katie will be attending next weeks service in the city - there is talk that we won;t be now allowed into the city itself. That is incomprehensible, however, completely understandable.
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| Formerly known as Bealey Ave Pharmaceutical... |
What is it of the human mind that has a morbid fascination with death, destruction and despair? We see it all day in movies, and we watch shark docos despite a fear of the water, airplane crashes despite a fear of flying...and while the rest of the country, say the world, await more grisly finds, they sit comfortably back in their loungers with their tea and bikkies, we sit in the dark unsure of an uncertain future.
I was going to post this on Friday night, and with laptop open in front of the TV, me and Katie sat shocked and in tears as we watched the horrific events unfolding in Japan. Even now, I cannot get that surreal shot of the waves crashing over the coastline and into houses chasing cars up the highway...we have taken too much for granted, we have taken so much from this planet. Could it now be asking for it back?
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| This to me sums up the spirit here...hope. |
The Futility of Life...
I started this blog with a sentence...and then deleted it.
I wrote another sentence...and then deleted it.
The third time, I realised there was only one way to start this post...and so it reads;
Katie Lee Simpkins, I love you, adore you, and could not stand to lose you.
But this sentence in itself seems so selfish in the context of our day today. At 12:30 this afternoon we arrived at Harewood Crematorium to be part of the show of strength, love and support for Rachael Fairweather-Steyant and her four children, Gabe, Zach, Bella and Alex as they laid their husband and father to rest - RIP Michael Steyant who was tragically taken from them in the PGC Building, 22 February, 2011.
If you were to die it would surely be a measure of who you were by the people, and the number of people who turned up. And the crowd that gathered this afternoon showed what a special man Michael was. I myself had only met him and Rachael last year at the Pre-school Xmas BBQ, Katie knew them little better, but after my 'chance' meeting a fortnight ago (read 'Persepctive') we both knew we had to be there.
But as much as the show of people was testament to Michael himself, it would be equally so that they and we were there for Rachael and the four kids. Amongst those there were Army Officers, teachers from our school and pre-school, rugby players, office workers and blue-collar workers...and all, and none could deny it, shed a tear or more. From the lone piper with "Amazing Grace" (what is it with that tune on pipes that gets you?) through to the modern choices played alongside a photo diary of his life;no sooner did you compose yourself from one moment, you found yourself choking back on the very next one.
It is not for me to go into too much detail for respect of those who lost an obviously great man, but it makes one think, and being the thinker and dweller that I am, I made many decisions this afternoon. But three that I would recommend all to do;
Live life. You only get one shot at it and you're a long time dead.
Friends and family are everything - I have few fears in life (OK, spiders!), but I don't ever want to die alone.
And I also had to get back and pick up my own two girls from school - I had an uncontrollable urge to hug them both, but not before hugging Rachael - I am so glad I got to, and despite the unnecessary thanks for being her 'rescuer', therein lies a special woman and Rachael, we will have that coffee again when you are ready.
Life is made up of years that mean nothing and moments that mean it all.
Friday, March 11, 2011
Armageddon?????
I sit here, ready to write a new post on the state (of city and mind) in Christchurch, only to be sitting in front of Sky News watching the destruction in Japan as they have been hit, first by a 7-8 magnitude quake, and then Tsunamis, and the one hitting Sendai is what we are watching right now.
Not taking anything anything away from what we have gone through, but fuck...we had a quake, we dodged a bullet (this time) by not being hit by a Tsunami...and reports are saying 6 to 10 metres. Not even surfers would take them on!
While we deal with our own pain here, we must send our thoughts to our Pacific friends; Japan, Marshalls, Taiwan...death is a given, an hour to run to higher ground, if you survived the initial quake, seems an impossibility.
Most of you reading this were probably unaware of this, watching Glee or Master Chef, but me and Katie, sitting her watching live pictures, are sickened...watching cars trying to outrun the surge of water, houses wiped out, at speeds you cannot comprehend.
Now, it has been advised that it was in fact an 8.4 - that makes it 13 times larger than September 4, over 20 times larger than what we had here two weeks ago...incomprehensible!
Not taking anything anything away from what we have gone through, but fuck...we had a quake, we dodged a bullet (this time) by not being hit by a Tsunami...and reports are saying 6 to 10 metres. Not even surfers would take them on!
While we deal with our own pain here, we must send our thoughts to our Pacific friends; Japan, Marshalls, Taiwan...death is a given, an hour to run to higher ground, if you survived the initial quake, seems an impossibility.
Most of you reading this were probably unaware of this, watching Glee or Master Chef, but me and Katie, sitting her watching live pictures, are sickened...watching cars trying to outrun the surge of water, houses wiped out, at speeds you cannot comprehend.
Now, it has been advised that it was in fact an 8.4 - that makes it 13 times larger than September 4, over 20 times larger than what we had here two weeks ago...incomprehensible!
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Confirmation...
Michael Styant, from the post "Reflection" was named today...
My family's thoughts go out to Rachael and her four children for their tragic loss.
Life is eternal, and love is immortal,
and death is only a horizon;
and a horizon is nothing save the limit of our sight.
R.I.P.
My family's thoughts go out to Rachael and her four children for their tragic loss.
Life is eternal, and love is immortal,
and death is only a horizon;
and a horizon is nothing save the limit of our sight.
R.I.P.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Perspective...
Now, before you read this, I want you to understand this is not made up, not a script, nothing but the events as it happened (again, my memory is not as good as it used to be, but I guarantee the situation is real)...in a million years I would never have believed that such a string of events could be tied together to give me the greatest perspective on the effects of last week on different people, and how lucky I, and so many are, but in the same respect, how many have lost so much. I will not reveal specific details of those in this and will use nom-de-plumes, but I want you to know, this has buoyed me more than anything I will experience in the future, and just made me humble. To RWS, I know you are reading this blog and I mean no disrespect to your situation, after the outpouring you gave me, I hope I do this justice and in dignity; and to SS, I know you will be reading this too, and that hour, or whatever it was shared with her, will certainly stick in my memory for ages to come...
I was going to work from home yesterday. I didn't want to go to our temp site, face anyone from work, talk to anyone I could avoid. So, out of bed (during a blackout I might add which is not a good feeling in these times) and once normality was restored got into routine; feeding kids, getting them ready for school, making lunches etc etc. Once I had dropped both kids to school and kindy, I was going into Rangiora to The Warehouse for some extra items to put in our 'survival pack'; get a new tyre and WOF for the Commodore; get some fruit for lunches in the coming days; a couple of new books to read (keep an eye out for their reviews in later posts); and then head home to upload a deal done just before the quake and call another customer about their needs for phones too. This I envisaged would get me through to lunch time and then I could do whatever until school finished.
So, dropped kids off, and went to fuel up the car. I saw a tyre company billboard in Southbrook, and called the number. The guy said he could get me the tyre but it would have to be couriered in and would be about lunchtime. I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to do it, but I knew I had to as the WOF had expired, it needed a tyre to pass, so grumbling away, agreed for him to call me when ready.
I went to The Warehouse and did my shopping (read previous post), and received a TXT from SS, a customer asking if I wanted to catch up for a coffee at a cafe out in Cust about 20km away where we catch up now and again to discuss his accounts. I replied saying that I was to be stuck in Rangiora for sometime (due to the tyre) so he was welcome to come in and meet. His reply was "where?", and my response was one of three places locally and to let me know which...I didn't think he would choose one of them as he loves good coffee, and I doubted he would choose one of them, but he chose the one I least expected him to. Please bear with me, as this is leading somewhere...
So I went to the library and got some books and then walked down to the agreed place early and had a coffee - the place was really busy, so I sat outside so I could smoke and waited. He came up (late of course) and we went inside and got a couple of coffees, and I quickly chatted to the guy who married me and Katie only a couple of months before, and when SS asked where do you want to sit, my first thought was back outside so I could smoke again, and all the tables were taken, but as it was windy, I noticed two stools against a 'breakfast bar' against the window and suggested that. So we sat, and it became clear this wasn't work, he just wanted to 'get away' and have a chat with someone. So the conversation basically went along the lines of the quake, and what we were experiencing, and he said he had seen my blogs and I guess needed to talk about his story;
He was in Auckland for work when it hit, so like Katie's story, it was the pain of knowing everything but nothing at the same time. His son was at St.Andrew's and neither him or his wife knew his whereabouts or whether he was fine or otherwise...it was hard to listen to, and so easy as I had this same outpouring of feelings from Katie...and then we went back and forth about that day. SS is a Civil Defence Team Leader in Rangiora, and had been up there ever day since, and had some stories he needed to air, and this in itself was humbling. At one point I elaborated on my trek into the PGG site, and what I faced when I got there. It was at this time a tap on my shoulder had me turning to a woman who looked tired, but had a wonderful smile, who apologised for interrupting, but had overheard me mention PGG and was looking for me to confirm I was there. I sort of explained that afternoon but wary of the stranger (who looked somewhat familiar) about how much to say, in respect of those that survived, and those that were lost. After this, I went back to SS and we chatted some more, and this time the conversation turned towards what I call "Christchurch's 2 degrees of separation", how we are all expecting to know someone on the list; maybe not close friends or family, but acquaintances and so on. I mentioned that me and Katie were aware of a man who was still listed as 'lost' in PGG, I had met him only a couple of months earlier at the pre-school Xmas BBQ, and that he and his wife had girls on both of out daughter's classes - Katie knew her better than I did, but we knew them nevertheless.
Then I got a tap on my shoulder again. The same lady wanted more answers about PGG, and I was really unsure about it, and at one point she said her husband was in the building, still missing, and could I tell her if I had seen the 'left hand side of the building'. I advised I had pretty much seen the lot, in fact had photos. She said, she has not seen the building at all, she had avoided the news, press, anything that might make it real to her, and reluctantly I pulled out my iPhone and pulled up the photos I had taken. I explained where I was at each shot, and this angle, that angle, rescuers up here and in there, and she was turing an ashen grey. She asked of "this side of the building was worse affected than the other?" pointing to a point in the photo...I swallowed, and told her, in no uncertain terms, it was flattened, so bad that rescuers were only trying to come in from the top and the other side as they seemed the only possibilities, if there were any.
It was then I started to click about who I might be talking to...as I answered her questions about where I was when it hit, why did I go in to help, what did I do...I explained how I met the father of the girl in PGG who was marrying later that week and how it turned out we lived not far from each other, and then she asked "Sorry, where do you live?" It was here something clicked in the back of my brain, a strange sixth-sense, I went cold to the bone, and then was acutely aware of what I had said, and what I was no doubt about to reveal. Fuck!
I said I was in Mandeville, my girls at Swannanoa School and pre-school. So did hers...she then said in the most cheery, sunny voice "I know you, you're from the Ohoka Rugby Club! I was waitressing there!" Now, for those who weren't there, I made a bit of a scene by asking Richard Loe, guest speaker at our annual rugby club find raiser a question that only I could! We chatted about that a bit, and she remembered that me and Katie had been married just lately, and how our girl Deanna was just so cute (she is the new student liaison for the school), and then I has to ask; "What's your name?", only knowing full well who she was but not prepared for it. "RWS...my husband is MS." - the guy I had just told SS about a couple of minutes earlier! You could have felled me with a feather!
Sometime at this point, we hugged, no real reason, just needed to.
SS at this point had noted something in the conversation and stood next to us as me and RWS chatted like old school chums, about Swannanoa, Ohoka Rugby, our kids, the Xmas party.
But then it turned to MS. She had basically accepted he was dead, even said the body was most likely recovered, but not identified, but I could not help but wonder that for someone going through so much pain, fear, despair, uncertainty, was ever hopeful of a miracle, had faith, wad accepted that sometimes things happen and there is nothing we can do about it except accept it and move on. She kept calling me a hero, something I was uncomfortable with, I didn't do anything, I did what I thought anyone would do, surely...and even then, I wasn't up in the rubble with those others, just doing small things down at the street. She didn't care, I had driven in to a scene whereas so many drove away, and I guessed that made some sense, nevertheless, nothing to it, shouldn't we all??
She was in the cafe planning her next bike race, it helped her concentrate on things other than, well, that. Her friends had rallied round her, and this is where her connection with SS came in - SS as team Leader at Civil Defence had come up in conversation the other night between RWS and friends who were in the refuge centre, they knew all the same people, had the same friends, yet had never met - these two shared their experiences of the day and as suddenly as that, there was a bond between the three of us. It carried on like this, the more we talked, the more we knew each other closer than we thought...RWS was about to do a challenge with a close friend of hers on one of those new fandangle skateboard things the kids are using now...her and some guy were practising to be able to go from one end of the school's basketball to the other by the end of the month or something. His name was SM, the guy who owned our house before us and we have dinner parties with! As an aside, SM works for Air NZ, and he was part of a support team to help victims and family on the Pike River tragedy.
So this conversation could have kept going, and going, and going, but it had to stop...I gave her my numbers, inviting her to bring the kids round if she needed a break, and she wanted to read my blog so I gave her that address too. Me and SS went outside, and couldn't believe it, what was meant to have been a causal release of tension for us, turned into (for me at least) one of the most inspiring and levelling moments I have experienced, and trust me, I have had a few.
As I keep harping on, I am not religious, Jimi Hendrix as close to any God I worship, but I do have a belief in karma, fate, even deja vu. And in retrospect, and as RWS kept saying, we were meant to have met in that cafe today, talked of her husband, get the facts across. Maybe so...I can't wait to see her again.
I was going to work from home yesterday. I didn't want to go to our temp site, face anyone from work, talk to anyone I could avoid. So, out of bed (during a blackout I might add which is not a good feeling in these times) and once normality was restored got into routine; feeding kids, getting them ready for school, making lunches etc etc. Once I had dropped both kids to school and kindy, I was going into Rangiora to The Warehouse for some extra items to put in our 'survival pack'; get a new tyre and WOF for the Commodore; get some fruit for lunches in the coming days; a couple of new books to read (keep an eye out for their reviews in later posts); and then head home to upload a deal done just before the quake and call another customer about their needs for phones too. This I envisaged would get me through to lunch time and then I could do whatever until school finished.
So, dropped kids off, and went to fuel up the car. I saw a tyre company billboard in Southbrook, and called the number. The guy said he could get me the tyre but it would have to be couriered in and would be about lunchtime. I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to do it, but I knew I had to as the WOF had expired, it needed a tyre to pass, so grumbling away, agreed for him to call me when ready.
I went to The Warehouse and did my shopping (read previous post), and received a TXT from SS, a customer asking if I wanted to catch up for a coffee at a cafe out in Cust about 20km away where we catch up now and again to discuss his accounts. I replied saying that I was to be stuck in Rangiora for sometime (due to the tyre) so he was welcome to come in and meet. His reply was "where?", and my response was one of three places locally and to let me know which...I didn't think he would choose one of them as he loves good coffee, and I doubted he would choose one of them, but he chose the one I least expected him to. Please bear with me, as this is leading somewhere...
So I went to the library and got some books and then walked down to the agreed place early and had a coffee - the place was really busy, so I sat outside so I could smoke and waited. He came up (late of course) and we went inside and got a couple of coffees, and I quickly chatted to the guy who married me and Katie only a couple of months before, and when SS asked where do you want to sit, my first thought was back outside so I could smoke again, and all the tables were taken, but as it was windy, I noticed two stools against a 'breakfast bar' against the window and suggested that. So we sat, and it became clear this wasn't work, he just wanted to 'get away' and have a chat with someone. So the conversation basically went along the lines of the quake, and what we were experiencing, and he said he had seen my blogs and I guess needed to talk about his story;
He was in Auckland for work when it hit, so like Katie's story, it was the pain of knowing everything but nothing at the same time. His son was at St.Andrew's and neither him or his wife knew his whereabouts or whether he was fine or otherwise...it was hard to listen to, and so easy as I had this same outpouring of feelings from Katie...and then we went back and forth about that day. SS is a Civil Defence Team Leader in Rangiora, and had been up there ever day since, and had some stories he needed to air, and this in itself was humbling. At one point I elaborated on my trek into the PGG site, and what I faced when I got there. It was at this time a tap on my shoulder had me turning to a woman who looked tired, but had a wonderful smile, who apologised for interrupting, but had overheard me mention PGG and was looking for me to confirm I was there. I sort of explained that afternoon but wary of the stranger (who looked somewhat familiar) about how much to say, in respect of those that survived, and those that were lost. After this, I went back to SS and we chatted some more, and this time the conversation turned towards what I call "Christchurch's 2 degrees of separation", how we are all expecting to know someone on the list; maybe not close friends or family, but acquaintances and so on. I mentioned that me and Katie were aware of a man who was still listed as 'lost' in PGG, I had met him only a couple of months earlier at the pre-school Xmas BBQ, and that he and his wife had girls on both of out daughter's classes - Katie knew her better than I did, but we knew them nevertheless.
Then I got a tap on my shoulder again. The same lady wanted more answers about PGG, and I was really unsure about it, and at one point she said her husband was in the building, still missing, and could I tell her if I had seen the 'left hand side of the building'. I advised I had pretty much seen the lot, in fact had photos. She said, she has not seen the building at all, she had avoided the news, press, anything that might make it real to her, and reluctantly I pulled out my iPhone and pulled up the photos I had taken. I explained where I was at each shot, and this angle, that angle, rescuers up here and in there, and she was turing an ashen grey. She asked of "this side of the building was worse affected than the other?" pointing to a point in the photo...I swallowed, and told her, in no uncertain terms, it was flattened, so bad that rescuers were only trying to come in from the top and the other side as they seemed the only possibilities, if there were any.
It was then I started to click about who I might be talking to...as I answered her questions about where I was when it hit, why did I go in to help, what did I do...I explained how I met the father of the girl in PGG who was marrying later that week and how it turned out we lived not far from each other, and then she asked "Sorry, where do you live?" It was here something clicked in the back of my brain, a strange sixth-sense, I went cold to the bone, and then was acutely aware of what I had said, and what I was no doubt about to reveal. Fuck!
I said I was in Mandeville, my girls at Swannanoa School and pre-school. So did hers...she then said in the most cheery, sunny voice "I know you, you're from the Ohoka Rugby Club! I was waitressing there!" Now, for those who weren't there, I made a bit of a scene by asking Richard Loe, guest speaker at our annual rugby club find raiser a question that only I could! We chatted about that a bit, and she remembered that me and Katie had been married just lately, and how our girl Deanna was just so cute (she is the new student liaison for the school), and then I has to ask; "What's your name?", only knowing full well who she was but not prepared for it. "RWS...my husband is MS." - the guy I had just told SS about a couple of minutes earlier! You could have felled me with a feather!
Sometime at this point, we hugged, no real reason, just needed to.
SS at this point had noted something in the conversation and stood next to us as me and RWS chatted like old school chums, about Swannanoa, Ohoka Rugby, our kids, the Xmas party.
But then it turned to MS. She had basically accepted he was dead, even said the body was most likely recovered, but not identified, but I could not help but wonder that for someone going through so much pain, fear, despair, uncertainty, was ever hopeful of a miracle, had faith, wad accepted that sometimes things happen and there is nothing we can do about it except accept it and move on. She kept calling me a hero, something I was uncomfortable with, I didn't do anything, I did what I thought anyone would do, surely...and even then, I wasn't up in the rubble with those others, just doing small things down at the street. She didn't care, I had driven in to a scene whereas so many drove away, and I guessed that made some sense, nevertheless, nothing to it, shouldn't we all??
She was in the cafe planning her next bike race, it helped her concentrate on things other than, well, that. Her friends had rallied round her, and this is where her connection with SS came in - SS as team Leader at Civil Defence had come up in conversation the other night between RWS and friends who were in the refuge centre, they knew all the same people, had the same friends, yet had never met - these two shared their experiences of the day and as suddenly as that, there was a bond between the three of us. It carried on like this, the more we talked, the more we knew each other closer than we thought...RWS was about to do a challenge with a close friend of hers on one of those new fandangle skateboard things the kids are using now...her and some guy were practising to be able to go from one end of the school's basketball to the other by the end of the month or something. His name was SM, the guy who owned our house before us and we have dinner parties with! As an aside, SM works for Air NZ, and he was part of a support team to help victims and family on the Pike River tragedy.
So this conversation could have kept going, and going, and going, but it had to stop...I gave her my numbers, inviting her to bring the kids round if she needed a break, and she wanted to read my blog so I gave her that address too. Me and SS went outside, and couldn't believe it, what was meant to have been a causal release of tension for us, turned into (for me at least) one of the most inspiring and levelling moments I have experienced, and trust me, I have had a few.
As I keep harping on, I am not religious, Jimi Hendrix as close to any God I worship, but I do have a belief in karma, fate, even deja vu. And in retrospect, and as RWS kept saying, we were meant to have met in that cafe today, talked of her husband, get the facts across. Maybe so...I can't wait to see her again.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Coping...
Today has been particularly hard.
I awoke at 3am, for no particular reason, maybe I'm smoking too much, maybe drinking too much, maybe too much caffeine...either way it doesn't matter, I was awake. At 4am, it was too much, I got out of bed and went to the kitchen, made lunches for my wife and daughters, and read, and read, and read. Anything to take my mind off whatever was keeping me awake.
then after dropping my two girls off to school, I headed to my 'new' workplace, for some sort of 'get-together' I didn't hold much hope for it being my kind of thing, and tried to take my mind off it on the way by blasting (and I mean blasting!) heavy rock and metal as I find this music a good way to release. Anyway, turning up at the new site was an experience, one I don't care to do again. If there is one thing I cannot stand, is people who think they know what you are going through. However, in saying that, listening to the 'bad' and 'good' things from that day was emotional, my preference was to say nothing...but I could not get out of there quick enough, especially when the company started waxing lyrical.
So, into my work, one of the two things I do well to get my mind off things. However on the way back I found myself at the exact spot where the car kicked out when the earthquake hit last week...I turned around and parked on the same spot, waiting the half hour until the Nation remembered for two minutes the time it hit; 12:51pm. The radio played the full National Anthem, the first time as a NZ Citizen I can remember singing it out loud. And I cried, or at times, tried to cry. Isn't it hard when you can feel them coming on and yet they don't? You feel so guilty and insensitive, and yet know that if the water works started, you probably couldn't stop them? Katie TXT me halfway through, telling me how much she loved me and remembering the shit she went through trying to get hold of me at this time. And I cried more, and I cried for those who can't anymore, and for those who are going to cry a lot more when they know the 'official' fate of their loved ones. Cars sped past, and I cried in anger that they didn't bother to stop to acknowledge the moment. And then, I stopped - it seemed like I had cried for ages, but it was barely the two minutes..started the car and drove to Katie. And we hugged in the street and cried some more...
Then sometime soon after it hit me why I wasn't coping; I cannot handle the calls for assistance, the unending TXT, emails and calls to see if I was OK. I am a person who helps others, finds solutions, fixes their problems, provides the shoulders. To have it the other way round does not sit well with me, I am the provider, not the requirer (if that is a word). Not that I am ungrateful, please don't read it that way, but I have gone through life standing on my own two feet, and being there for others - I have never needed, or admitted that I have needed, help from others unless I have asked for it.
Which will ultimately bring me to the issue I have with those who have pissed me off - those I have always been there for, but have not shown me that it works the other way, or/and if and when they did, it seemed way too little, way too late. And when I feel compelled to write this down, it will upset some, but at this point in time, I don't really care, because I feel betrayed and abused by their apparent lack of compassion...compassion I was not lacking in for others during this difficult time, compassion I might have actually appreciated, welcomed, even embraced. How I hate those with theoretical life skills................and now the toll is 155...fuck, that is the roll call of my daughter's school, and I find that hard to comprehend.
I awoke at 3am, for no particular reason, maybe I'm smoking too much, maybe drinking too much, maybe too much caffeine...either way it doesn't matter, I was awake. At 4am, it was too much, I got out of bed and went to the kitchen, made lunches for my wife and daughters, and read, and read, and read. Anything to take my mind off whatever was keeping me awake.
then after dropping my two girls off to school, I headed to my 'new' workplace, for some sort of 'get-together' I didn't hold much hope for it being my kind of thing, and tried to take my mind off it on the way by blasting (and I mean blasting!) heavy rock and metal as I find this music a good way to release. Anyway, turning up at the new site was an experience, one I don't care to do again. If there is one thing I cannot stand, is people who think they know what you are going through. However, in saying that, listening to the 'bad' and 'good' things from that day was emotional, my preference was to say nothing...but I could not get out of there quick enough, especially when the company started waxing lyrical.
So, into my work, one of the two things I do well to get my mind off things. However on the way back I found myself at the exact spot where the car kicked out when the earthquake hit last week...I turned around and parked on the same spot, waiting the half hour until the Nation remembered for two minutes the time it hit; 12:51pm. The radio played the full National Anthem, the first time as a NZ Citizen I can remember singing it out loud. And I cried, or at times, tried to cry. Isn't it hard when you can feel them coming on and yet they don't? You feel so guilty and insensitive, and yet know that if the water works started, you probably couldn't stop them? Katie TXT me halfway through, telling me how much she loved me and remembering the shit she went through trying to get hold of me at this time. And I cried more, and I cried for those who can't anymore, and for those who are going to cry a lot more when they know the 'official' fate of their loved ones. Cars sped past, and I cried in anger that they didn't bother to stop to acknowledge the moment. And then, I stopped - it seemed like I had cried for ages, but it was barely the two minutes..started the car and drove to Katie. And we hugged in the street and cried some more...
Then sometime soon after it hit me why I wasn't coping; I cannot handle the calls for assistance, the unending TXT, emails and calls to see if I was OK. I am a person who helps others, finds solutions, fixes their problems, provides the shoulders. To have it the other way round does not sit well with me, I am the provider, not the requirer (if that is a word). Not that I am ungrateful, please don't read it that way, but I have gone through life standing on my own two feet, and being there for others - I have never needed, or admitted that I have needed, help from others unless I have asked for it.
Which will ultimately bring me to the issue I have with those who have pissed me off - those I have always been there for, but have not shown me that it works the other way, or/and if and when they did, it seemed way too little, way too late. And when I feel compelled to write this down, it will upset some, but at this point in time, I don't really care, because I feel betrayed and abused by their apparent lack of compassion...compassion I was not lacking in for others during this difficult time, compassion I might have actually appreciated, welcomed, even embraced. How I hate those with theoretical life skills................and now the toll is 155...fuck, that is the roll call of my daughter's school, and I find that hard to comprehend.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Waiting...and the uncertainty
It is so hard to explain the emotions we are running through, probably easier to document what we are and aren't doing.
The days immediately following the quake, it was chaos and dread. Was there another one coming? Who was dead? Who haven't we contacted? The phone calls and TXT kept coming in, and most we ignored, not because we didn't want to answer, more a case of we couldn't...I mean, what would we say? We kept repeating the same old story over and over again, deep down knowing how lucky we were, like many, but always in the back of our minds was that others weren't. And also knowing, almost expecting, that the next one, and there will be a next one, could be the end of us, or worse, one or two of us.
And taking that element of uncertainty away, what is in store for us? Katie has just started at a new job, and actually, if you excuse the pun, seems to be as safe as a bank, but for me? I have had no communication from my employers, be it Scoot, Digi, or VFNZ. We are completely in the dark as to their future plans - I mean, I am in acquisition...who the hell is going to do business in the immediate and mid-term future? For some I understand the need for a cash injection, a quick fix, to get the necessities, but we have been left relatively unscathed so long term security is more our concern.
Katie's work has been brilliant! From Aussie HO organising to get her home ASAP, to organising a hotel for meetings, updates, and even simple things like a shower and laundry...and on top, the following day money was put into her account for emergency use. She has had at least two phone calls a day from management, and today she goes back to work to a meeting from the "big boss" who will no doubt lend all the support required to the team down here. I have asked her to take the EAP on offer; now and again, and more frequently as time goes on, she just breaks down. It is not necessarily brought on by the news (although invariably is), but small things like dropping a cup, breaking a nail, or one of the kids being naughty. She is symptomatic of the stress and pressure we are feeling down here. I can only be so strong myself, trying to hold us together, but I am not an expert in this area. My usual response it to crack jokes, it's my self defence mechanism, but I just can't find anything funny to say (although some would say I was never that funny anyway!). So I just mull on best I can...beers, smokes, and coffee a big part of my routine...eating sometimes, and not wanting anything other times. Not good for the system but what else is there right now?
As I write this, I am trying to keep myself busy with ironing, laundry, and other chores otherwise the sitting around will get to me, and avoid the TV as much as I can - the ongoing coverage is repetitive, but you have to endure it to get more updates on deaths, names, and routines. But at 148, it is becoming fantastical. Just like the day it happened when it didn't really seem like it had (or could), the rising death toll became a morbid curiosity...but until it reached 100, it didn't seem to register. But 100, shit that suddenly makes it big, real, and ever more tragic. Sometimes hearing the stories makes me tear up, sometimes they harden my resolve, but either way, it makes me numb and indifferent...
The days immediately following the quake, it was chaos and dread. Was there another one coming? Who was dead? Who haven't we contacted? The phone calls and TXT kept coming in, and most we ignored, not because we didn't want to answer, more a case of we couldn't...I mean, what would we say? We kept repeating the same old story over and over again, deep down knowing how lucky we were, like many, but always in the back of our minds was that others weren't. And also knowing, almost expecting, that the next one, and there will be a next one, could be the end of us, or worse, one or two of us.
And taking that element of uncertainty away, what is in store for us? Katie has just started at a new job, and actually, if you excuse the pun, seems to be as safe as a bank, but for me? I have had no communication from my employers, be it Scoot, Digi, or VFNZ. We are completely in the dark as to their future plans - I mean, I am in acquisition...who the hell is going to do business in the immediate and mid-term future? For some I understand the need for a cash injection, a quick fix, to get the necessities, but we have been left relatively unscathed so long term security is more our concern.
Katie's work has been brilliant! From Aussie HO organising to get her home ASAP, to organising a hotel for meetings, updates, and even simple things like a shower and laundry...and on top, the following day money was put into her account for emergency use. She has had at least two phone calls a day from management, and today she goes back to work to a meeting from the "big boss" who will no doubt lend all the support required to the team down here. I have asked her to take the EAP on offer; now and again, and more frequently as time goes on, she just breaks down. It is not necessarily brought on by the news (although invariably is), but small things like dropping a cup, breaking a nail, or one of the kids being naughty. She is symptomatic of the stress and pressure we are feeling down here. I can only be so strong myself, trying to hold us together, but I am not an expert in this area. My usual response it to crack jokes, it's my self defence mechanism, but I just can't find anything funny to say (although some would say I was never that funny anyway!). So I just mull on best I can...beers, smokes, and coffee a big part of my routine...eating sometimes, and not wanting anything other times. Not good for the system but what else is there right now?
As I write this, I am trying to keep myself busy with ironing, laundry, and other chores otherwise the sitting around will get to me, and avoid the TV as much as I can - the ongoing coverage is repetitive, but you have to endure it to get more updates on deaths, names, and routines. But at 148, it is becoming fantastical. Just like the day it happened when it didn't really seem like it had (or could), the rising death toll became a morbid curiosity...but until it reached 100, it didn't seem to register. But 100, shit that suddenly makes it big, real, and ever more tragic. Sometimes hearing the stories makes me tear up, sometimes they harden my resolve, but either way, it makes me numb and indifferent...
Friday, February 25, 2011
How People Mark Tragedy...
Following is a Facebook post from a dear friend of mine in Puhoi, north of Auckland, like me an ex-pat Aussie, and though we don't always show or say it, proud to be here in NZ. Through our communications since the quake, she has been at pains at what to do to help, or show her distress, and I think this is nice;
Our very own poppy maker here in CHCH, Kilmarnock Enterprises who recently lost the rights to make them for next ANZAC Day now has nothing. A fine institution that makes wonderful wooden toys and home utensils from wood, they also give special needs people and war widows the chance to give back by producing over 1 million poppies each year for the last 30 years. Now is the time for us
again to put pressure on the RSA, the keeper of the war ravaged and sacrifices and the memory of those who sacrificed the ultimate to give us the life we experience now, and provide the heart and soul of those Kiwis and Aussies standing side by side through shit and ruin to search for, recover, and save those who experience a peacetime version of what they faced. This city needs to rebuild, and while larger businesses and corporations will hopefully drive this, its the smaller enterprises such as Kilmarnock that must be allowed to rebuild themselves, all the while providing a sense of purpose for those who quite possibly have lost everything in recent days.
again to put pressure on the RSA, the keeper of the war ravaged and sacrifices and the memory of those who sacrificed the ultimate to give us the life we experience now, and provide the heart and soul of those Kiwis and Aussies standing side by side through shit and ruin to search for, recover, and save those who experience a peacetime version of what they faced. This city needs to rebuild, and while larger businesses and corporations will hopefully drive this, its the smaller enterprises such as Kilmarnock that must be allowed to rebuild themselves, all the while providing a sense of purpose for those who quite possibly have lost everything in recent days.In Katie's Words...
I lay in bed this morning with something bothering me...and it hit me, I haven't expressed Katie's thoughts. When she finally got back home to us yesterday afternoon she had explained to me how she found out about it, how frustrated she was without news and contact, and the ability to get home, and I felt a chill down my spine...so, this blog is dedicated to those who were so close yet so far.
I arrived in Wellington for an induction course on Tuesday morning. I don't know why, but I had an uneasy feeling about being away from home this time. This is probably because it was the first time that I had been away from the family since September 4th. I was there for a two-day course right in town. We started the day as any would with introductions and silly 'getting to know each other' games.
By the time lunch time came around at 12.30, I was tired, having been up since 5am. I was hungry having not eaten, and I was looking forward to getting back to my hotel and chilling out with a wine and Coronation St.
I dropped my bag at the hotel then went in search for food. I found a cafe, ordered a stuffed potato and sat down. As the food came, I got a text from and old friend I hadn't heard from in years - 'r u ok?'. Strange I thought....then another, a voicemail from a friend in Auckland saying they had heard and were thinking and praying for us....alarm bells started ringing. I had had messages like this before....on September 4th....I grabbed the phone, hand shaking to call my husband. Straight to voicemail. Then I called my Dad. Same thing. I was looking around the cafe. Things were just the same; people chatting like nothing had happened. I left a tearful message on my husband's phone. A text message came through from Deanna's school to say that all of the children were quite shaken but ok, and to pick them up now. Oh God I thought. I called through to Mum and Dad at home again and got through. Mum had been on the road and hadn't even felt the quake. It was not until she got home to a pale Dad and Emma that she found out! She jumped straight back in the car to get Deanna. Renée, who is 22 months slept soundly through the whole ordeal bless her.
The kids were ok, I needed to find out about Keith. Finally after the longest time (that was actually about 10 minutes) he called. I cried. People were looking. He was ok, and that was about all I could fathom at that point. The lines went dead again.
At that point I decided to pull myself together and work on getting back to them.
I ate my lunch. I don't know what it is with me, but no matter what the situation, I can still always eat! I was thinking that I was going to have a long day and needed the energy.
I started to text friends on my way back to work while trying to get info about what was happening from friends in other places.
As soon as I got back to the building, Deanna called. She was really crying and was obviously distressed at the whole situation. Much more than the first quake. All the kids at school were crying. Poor thing.
We were led to a room and told to get on the pcs and phones and do whatever we wanted to get in contact with those we needed to.
they tried desperately to get us back to Christchurch. The airport was shut, so we just had to sit and wait. I went back to my hotel room and sat glued to the tv until 11. It was a hard night. By this time though most of my friends and family had been accounted for and I was very thankful. Mum had checked my house, which was fine along with our animals.
The next morning I was up at 5.30 to watch tv again. I arrived at the airport at 7.45. I wasn't scheduled to fly til 5pm. I stood in a line a mile long to see if I could get on any earlier. The airport was pretty chaotic. After an hour I was almost at the Air NZ service desk. A call from ANZ had come through telling me that they had pulled strings and I was on a flight at 10.30. I couldn't believe it.
I stayed in the queue just to make sure. No way was I going to the back of the queue! It was now longer than ever.
Sure enough I was checked in and just had to wait half and hour longer. Thank goodness!
There were a lot of media there waiting to for passengers to get off the first flight from chch. Yuck. It cemented once again the reason why I never stayed in media.
Finally I was on the plane. Air NZ staff were brilliant. They kept us informed the whole way and were really lovely. Everyone was talking about the quake, their families, their homes, and it was a very somber mood.
When I got off and got in to the airport I couldn't believe my eyes. There were people EVERYWHERE. People looking battered and tired. People desperate to get out.
I slinked my way to baggage without standing on people. I got in the car. Everything looked normal. There was a strange eeriness though like nothing was ok.
The first sign of trouble was the queue of traffic heading in the opposite direction. ie out of town.
The petrol station was swamped with cars.
There was silt all over the place.
I got to the lights and looked beside me. A Dad, Mum, kids, cat and clothes were piled in the car beside me. They were all crying.
I finally got home. My pups and little family were waiting for me. It was the best sight I had seen. Thank God we are all ok. We are healthy, happy, we have a home in tact and our friends are ok.
I arrived in Wellington for an induction course on Tuesday morning. I don't know why, but I had an uneasy feeling about being away from home this time. This is probably because it was the first time that I had been away from the family since September 4th. I was there for a two-day course right in town. We started the day as any would with introductions and silly 'getting to know each other' games.
By the time lunch time came around at 12.30, I was tired, having been up since 5am. I was hungry having not eaten, and I was looking forward to getting back to my hotel and chilling out with a wine and Coronation St.
I dropped my bag at the hotel then went in search for food. I found a cafe, ordered a stuffed potato and sat down. As the food came, I got a text from and old friend I hadn't heard from in years - 'r u ok?'. Strange I thought....then another, a voicemail from a friend in Auckland saying they had heard and were thinking and praying for us....alarm bells started ringing. I had had messages like this before....on September 4th....I grabbed the phone, hand shaking to call my husband. Straight to voicemail. Then I called my Dad. Same thing. I was looking around the cafe. Things were just the same; people chatting like nothing had happened. I left a tearful message on my husband's phone. A text message came through from Deanna's school to say that all of the children were quite shaken but ok, and to pick them up now. Oh God I thought. I called through to Mum and Dad at home again and got through. Mum had been on the road and hadn't even felt the quake. It was not until she got home to a pale Dad and Emma that she found out! She jumped straight back in the car to get Deanna. Renée, who is 22 months slept soundly through the whole ordeal bless her.
The kids were ok, I needed to find out about Keith. Finally after the longest time (that was actually about 10 minutes) he called. I cried. People were looking. He was ok, and that was about all I could fathom at that point. The lines went dead again.
At that point I decided to pull myself together and work on getting back to them.
I ate my lunch. I don't know what it is with me, but no matter what the situation, I can still always eat! I was thinking that I was going to have a long day and needed the energy.
I started to text friends on my way back to work while trying to get info about what was happening from friends in other places.
As soon as I got back to the building, Deanna called. She was really crying and was obviously distressed at the whole situation. Much more than the first quake. All the kids at school were crying. Poor thing.
We were led to a room and told to get on the pcs and phones and do whatever we wanted to get in contact with those we needed to.
they tried desperately to get us back to Christchurch. The airport was shut, so we just had to sit and wait. I went back to my hotel room and sat glued to the tv until 11. It was a hard night. By this time though most of my friends and family had been accounted for and I was very thankful. Mum had checked my house, which was fine along with our animals.
The next morning I was up at 5.30 to watch tv again. I arrived at the airport at 7.45. I wasn't scheduled to fly til 5pm. I stood in a line a mile long to see if I could get on any earlier. The airport was pretty chaotic. After an hour I was almost at the Air NZ service desk. A call from ANZ had come through telling me that they had pulled strings and I was on a flight at 10.30. I couldn't believe it.
I stayed in the queue just to make sure. No way was I going to the back of the queue! It was now longer than ever.
Sure enough I was checked in and just had to wait half and hour longer. Thank goodness!
There were a lot of media there waiting to for passengers to get off the first flight from chch. Yuck. It cemented once again the reason why I never stayed in media.
Finally I was on the plane. Air NZ staff were brilliant. They kept us informed the whole way and were really lovely. Everyone was talking about the quake, their families, their homes, and it was a very somber mood.
When I got off and got in to the airport I couldn't believe my eyes. There were people EVERYWHERE. People looking battered and tired. People desperate to get out.
I slinked my way to baggage without standing on people. I got in the car. Everything looked normal. There was a strange eeriness though like nothing was ok.
The first sign of trouble was the queue of traffic heading in the opposite direction. ie out of town.
The petrol station was swamped with cars.
There was silt all over the place.
I got to the lights and looked beside me. A Dad, Mum, kids, cat and clothes were piled in the car beside me. They were all crying.
I finally got home. My pups and little family were waiting for me. It was the best sight I had seen. Thank God we are all ok. We are healthy, happy, we have a home in tact and our friends are ok.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
In Memorium...Part I of many...
I am here with some close friends, keeping close as we do not want to be alone, and while we started out somewhat merry, a few drinks, feeding our kids, and lucky to be alive and well, at 6pm we sat, as one, yet completely alone again, listening to the roll call of the first announced deceased. With me were two mates, fellow hard rugby players, in complete silence, Jason wouldn't even look at the TV screen, none of us wanting to be the first to cry, but when two children, toddlers were named, younger than all of the kids here, was too much to bear.
Our kids are still playing, running around the house, playing with their dolls and colouring books...so I wish to have the same innocence of youth. They are in fact the lucky ones and I hope that the worst thing they have to deal with are the constant shakes we are still getting.
Our thoughts go out to the family and friends of those named thus far, and we would offer anything in the world for you to have them back.
Our kindy has rung us to be part of a large picnic tomorrow for a parent still listed as missing in PGG...personally, we think it is way to early, what are we meant to say to her when we meet her? This is so fucked...fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck...and it is only going to get worse.
RIP.
“You can shed tears that they are gone,
or you can smile because they have lived.
You can close your eyes and pray that they'll come back,
or you can open your eyes and see all they left.
Your heart can be empty because you can't see them,
or you can be full of the love you shared.
You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday,
or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.
You can remember them only that they are gone,
or you can cherish their memory and let it live on.
You can cry and close your mind,
be empty and turn your back.
Or you can do what they'd want:
smile, open your eyes, love and go on."
Our kids are still playing, running around the house, playing with their dolls and colouring books...so I wish to have the same innocence of youth. They are in fact the lucky ones and I hope that the worst thing they have to deal with are the constant shakes we are still getting.
Our thoughts go out to the family and friends of those named thus far, and we would offer anything in the world for you to have them back.
Our kindy has rung us to be part of a large picnic tomorrow for a parent still listed as missing in PGG...personally, we think it is way to early, what are we meant to say to her when we meet her? This is so fucked...fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck...and it is only going to get worse.
RIP.
“You can shed tears that they are gone,
or you can smile because they have lived.
You can close your eyes and pray that they'll come back,
or you can open your eyes and see all they left.
Your heart can be empty because you can't see them,
or you can be full of the love you shared.
You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday,
or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.
You can remember them only that they are gone,
or you can cherish their memory and let it live on.
You can cry and close your mind,
be empty and turn your back.
Or you can do what they'd want:
smile, open your eyes, love and go on."
Darker Times...
It is coming up 11:00, and I have just seen on the news that body bags are being readied at the CTV site, barely an hour barely an hour after news broke about a rescue op in Chancery Lane. It is without doubt that we will see more of the "highs and lows" seemingly cancelling each other out over the coming days and weeks.
And sometime today we are expecting to have the first list of released names of those who have been confirmed dead...this will be a distressing time to not just us down here, but those around the country and the world. I am dreading this list as it really puts a finality, a personality, a conclusion to what up till now has still seemed a bad dream, a bad dream that has shaken us to the core.
Me and Katie continue to rack our brains over who should we be contacting, to make sure they are OK, that family are OK, and yet we still know that a name, or more released will hit us like a sledgehammer blow. We are already aware of a father of a child who attends pre-school a with our daughter works in the PGG Building - we chatted with him and his wife at the Xmas Hangi in December. A friend of Deanna's, her mother's ex's mother is still in the CTV site. The term is 6 degrees of separation, down here, I am not kidding when I say as a community, it is considerably less than that.
I am not looking forward to my next post - either I will be mourning the loss of a friend, colleague, or customer, or I will be selfishly happy that I didn't know anyone on the list, but of course, someone will know someone on that list, and their grief cannot be measured.
All say, "How hard it is that we have to die" - a strange complaint to come from the mouths of people who have had to live. Mark Twain.
And sometime today we are expecting to have the first list of released names of those who have been confirmed dead...this will be a distressing time to not just us down here, but those around the country and the world. I am dreading this list as it really puts a finality, a personality, a conclusion to what up till now has still seemed a bad dream, a bad dream that has shaken us to the core.
Me and Katie continue to rack our brains over who should we be contacting, to make sure they are OK, that family are OK, and yet we still know that a name, or more released will hit us like a sledgehammer blow. We are already aware of a father of a child who attends pre-school a with our daughter works in the PGG Building - we chatted with him and his wife at the Xmas Hangi in December. A friend of Deanna's, her mother's ex's mother is still in the CTV site. The term is 6 degrees of separation, down here, I am not kidding when I say as a community, it is considerably less than that.
I am not looking forward to my next post - either I will be mourning the loss of a friend, colleague, or customer, or I will be selfishly happy that I didn't know anyone on the list, but of course, someone will know someone on that list, and their grief cannot be measured.
All say, "How hard it is that we have to die" - a strange complaint to come from the mouths of people who have had to live. Mark Twain.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Words from North of The Bombays...
As I sat here wallowing in my grief, I received this message from a mate of mine (Mike Batten of cricket fame, bowler of the second best ball of the century) who is back in NZ for a wedding in Auckland, and it is not just addressed to me as a mate, but to all my friends and family, all my colleagues, to all those people I have met and dealt with, and those I haven't. While we down here in Canterbury have a love-hate relationship with our cousins in Jaffa-Land, it is my privilege to pass this message onto you...and it no doubt reflects the thoughts and feelings of all Kiwis...please excuse his grammar and context, he's not as well versed as us down here...
Dear Keith
Your words may accurately describe your emotions, visions and experiences of the events of the 22 February, but sitting at the other end of the country, in Auckland, we, who weren’t there still have only an ounce of idea of what you are going through. No matter how much news coverage, blogs or texts we receive or watch, we will will never know your suffering, whether emotional or physical. And because of this unknown, it is the reason we worry about you, your family, and other New Zealanders, who are affected so much.
So for this, we, thank you for your words.
Without in anyway diminishing anything that you are feeling, please know we are also suffering. Too many times have we heard of similar disasters in far flung countries; Haiti, Pakistan, Chile. But this is different, this is close to home, this is Christchurch! And we are suffering, because of our helplessness to help. We cannot do what you do – lend a hand in your broken city.
We are suffering because our friends, like you, are suffering. From when the news first broke it took over 5 hours before we made contact. Relief when we did was evident, but unfortunately, I am sure, for every story like ours, there are ones with opposite outcomes – parents, sons and daughters, relatives friends and acquaintances who will be never heard of again. For these fellow New Zealanders we send out our deepest sympathies.
We are suffering because we see symbols of Christchurch will never be the same. Although we have never lived there, the Cathedral has feel of friendly familiarity. It’s destruction is equivalent to Sydney’s Opera House, London’s Big Ben, New York’s Statue of Liberty, or Paris’ Eiffel Tower being destroyed; icons of these cities – which is exactly what the Cathedral is. Even as an Aucklander this saddens me immensely.
Unfortunately the journey on the destroyed roads you and the people of Christchurch are about to embark on is a long and hard one. Houses will be rebuilt, but it will take time, businesses will reopen, but it will take time, communities, services, parks, halls and landmarks will be rebuilt, but it will take time. Christchurch is far too important to New Zealand culturally, historically and economically to be allowed to languish. Be assured we in the rest of New Zealand will stand with you and assist you in any way we can.
 |
| Me and Mike in happier times - Melbourne 1996 for the Ashes |
Mike
The Darkest Side of Disasters...
 |
| Do you feel lucky, punk? |
Vigilante justice, such as portrayed in Dirty Harry will be a real possibility...you deserve what you get and so much more.
Shake, Rattle And Roll...Pt III
 |
| Upper Manchester St; liquification wasn't this prevalent in Sept '10 |
So there I was, dumping the car in Sailsbury St, and met a man running towards the scene. He had driven in from Ohoka as his daughter was in the Pyne Gould Building, over the back from my own building. She was due to be married on Friday and he hadn't heard from her. We convinced a cop at a cordon to let us through, although we had to detour away from Colombo St to Manchester due to a gas leak in the area - just as I was pulling out my smokes to light up for the umpteenth time that afternoon.
As we hit Manchester St, the 'pin up' of September 4, the scene was like nothing I have seen. We walked ankle deep through liquefaction (funny, no one knew the word before late last year, yet it is now a keyword on every one's lips even if they couldn't pronounce it!) and the devastation was complete. Where once was road and pavements, was now brick and mortar, water and mud, dust and smoke, and scattered around people in a daze. We walked into Cambridge Terrace, right on the Avon where the PGG Building was ('was' being the operative word) and the shock hit me. A building I had viewed from my building, barely 50m away, was a mountain of rubble, barely recognisable. There were rescue workers crawling over it like a swarm of ants and survivors sitting on the roadside, dirty, bandaged and bleeding. Some wept, some stood and stared at nothing in particular. I myself just stood, unable to take my eyes off the scene, unable to comprehend what I was in fact looking at. Sometime in the next couple of minutes, I had finished a smoke, don't even remember lighting it, and then started to look for things to do. With some young guys I assumed were backpackers we moved some fences onto the grass as a makeshift trauma space, or morgue I even supposed.
Above left; the scene that greeted me as I walked into Cambridge Terrace
Above right; from directly in front of the PGG Building, the concrete cutters and sledges were in full swing
I spoke to a woman holding a St Johns pack, one of those ones you buy for your home or car - she felt she had to bring something, however insignificant it may seem. We chatted about other areas, what we knew. I mentioned the Copthorne, just around the corner, CTV which was on fire (I hadn't known at this point it had collapsed), the Farmers Carpark, and rumours of the Cathedral, but everyone there didn't believe a word of that, surely not the Cathedral!
I started to notice more around me, helicopters buzzed around us; TV crews in some came right down and got some verbal abuse from survivors and rescuers; another was doing a round trip of about 2km with a monsoon bucket filling up from the Avon and dumping it on CTV which we couldn't see bar the black smoke cloud billowing upwards; another chopper was near the Forsythe Barr Building where we had heard the lifts and stairwells were inaccessible, and people waited on balconies awaiting rescue.Within an hour, more appliances and personnel had turned up, it was obvious that PGG was one of the priority sites for rescue. there was talk of about 200 inside when the quake hit, my guesstimation was barely half of that were being treated on the grass, so that left a lot to be found.
The Avon River, yet another Christchurch icon, was in flood, like nothing I have seen before. It was brown, and foreboding, hardly the place to take a romantic punt.
I got to talking to some other people around me; a couple of American tourists taking pictures who had walked up from Latimer Square; two homeless guys who seemed bemused by the spectacle; a Customs Officer and an Army guy holding cordon - the universal feeling was, was, shit, I cannot express it into words.Word started to spread that the services were looking to evacuate everyone from the area - I had noted at this point that the concrete cutters and sledgehammers on the rubble had stopped, no one had noticed it. And the rescuers seemed to be leaning into holes, obviously coming across someone or something ready to come out, and as we were cleared further from the makeshift erection I helped build earlier, my only thought was they did not want anyone to see the bodies.
 |
| From left hand side of scene - Opposition Leader Phil Goff on the phone. He just didn't seem right being there, it felt like a PR exercise to me. At this point, the cutter and hammers were silent, the crane ready to lift a rescue basket to a point just behind the trees, left |
Some of the survivors talked of getting out now, most wanted to wait as they still had friends and colleagues up there, but the Police were now making their presence felt, this was not a place nor time for emotion, it was work. One girl, who had been relatively quiet the whole time I was there, suddenly broke down. She screamed and cried that she had no family here in CHCH, but her cat was alone at home and she must get back to it. But her car was in the no-go-zone and she abused those who told her not to fetch it. I think her name was Lydia. Lydia, I hope your cat is fine. It was at this I suddenly snapped out of my fog. I had to get home, while I knew my family were safe, I had to see them, see our house, see and be with my animals.
I walked, not with purpose, back to my car. People were walking in no particular direction, it was quiet, so quiet. One lady sat in a bus shelter with her son and dog, another elderly lady was cradling her cat. Some people had suitcases and blankets and backpacks - where they were going, I have no idea, it seemed there was no where to go for a lot of them.In my car I drove north up Manchester, into Bealey and then onto Cranford. From this point on, I barely saw a car. The streets were deadly quiet, I felt like I was in that movie Quiet Earth with Bruno Lawerence; why was I the only survivor? Why was I OK? Where was everyone. The streets were pock-marked with holes, subsidence, cracks, and in places a torrent of liquefaction. Dust was swirled up by what cars were driving.
Heading north through Redwood I saw my first 'life', the Mobil station had a queue a mile long wanting fuel, and I quickly made a decision, I needed some supplies. But what? The continued drive solved it for me - supermarkets were closed, other fuel stations, but right on the outskirts of Belfast, The Peg, a pub was open. I pulled in, bought a case of Speights and a packet of smokes, and headed home.
the motorway was like driving on waves - not as obviously damaged as the previous quake, it was nonetheless affected, and speeds up to 100kmh made the car jump about, so I slowed it right down...what was my hurry?
 |
| Fuck, no other word for it... |
At the in-laws, I hugged my girls, made plans they would both stay there that night and I would go home. While having a beer, I first saw the Cathedral. My first tear..I couldn't believe it, and still refuse to believe it. It just doesn't seem right, criminal. The symbol of Christchurch, of it's people, of the country almost, lay in ruins. 100-odd years it withstood anything thrown at it, seen people through World Wars, through the depression, through disasters worse than this, and always giving hope, inspiration, and guidance. And now it may end up being the face of this whole damned mess...RIP Christchurch.
I went home, drained, but pumped. I fed the animals, walked the house, cleaned up the mess. We were fine, we were lucky. And as soon as you think that, you feel guilt, shame, depressed. Two friends came by to check up on me, we had a few beers and watched the same scenes over and over, waiting for something new, another survivor, or death, it didn't matter, we needed to know either way. When they left, I drank some more, conscious of the fact that it is easy to see how people fall into alcoholism, well not me. I went to bed and slept...through a dozen shakes until the 4+ at 6am which got me up. TV on, a coffee, a few TXT to friends and family. My blog, feeding my pets, it seemed all so automated. I was working on habit, still bothered by the fact that there were things to do for others. Finally Katie advised she was booked on a flight, we organised for friends to come and stay and get out of the city...and this is where you find me now, waiting on my love with my kids here watching the idiot box, the fie lit (it's not that cold, but there is a sense of comfort in a fire place). I haven't eaten since breakfast yesterday, coffee getting me by. We wait, and wait...
So now we look to the future, to rebuild. Last year seems so long ago, we coped and we won. Can we do it again? Damned fucken right we can!
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