Its been a couple of weeks since I’ve written anything, mostly due to having some nasty virus that knocked me on my arse. Two days after my previous post, Christchurch was once again hit by two nasty quakes; a 5.6 and a 6.3, only to be once again followed by its own sequence of aftershocks. I only learnt of the quakes when I received a tearful phone call from my mother who was beside herself that our beautiful city had once again been hit by some form of devastation. After the February quake that took the lives of 181 people both myself and my mother left the city, mostly due to fear and the mental effect this was having on all of us. I chose to get further away by moving to the North Island, whereas my mother decided to move to a small town about 30 minutes south west of the city. While she is away from the majority of the aftershocks that are felt regularly within Christchurch, anything above a 4.0 is felt out there. On June 13th she definitely felt the quakes that once again ravaged Christchurch, she was also on the phone with her best friend when the quake hit and had to listen in horror as her friend dropped the phone and screamed hysterically,while mum could hear her friends house rock, shake and crash. Its no surprise that by the time my mother called me she was near hysterical, and I must admit my first reaction to the news that it was happening all over again was just to cry along with her. And as I write this somewhat of a tribute to my beautiful city and all that has happened to her, I can feel the emotion and the tears begin to rise once again. The recurring nightmares of destructive earthquakes have returned once again for me and I’m not even there dealing with the day to day fear anymore. But in some ways for me personally it is harder being here, I live in fear and terror for my beloved family and friends that have chosen to remain there, and feel completely helpless as I’m stuck here and can’t do a thing. I simply wait, pray and be an ear for anyone that needs to talk about things.
For any reading this who may have spent the last 9 and a half months living under a rock and have no idea what is happening on our side of the world, it all began at 4:35 am September 4th 2010 when we were literally thrown out of our beds by a 7.1 magnitude earthquake that hit Darfield, which is a town outside of Christchurch. But by god did we feel it here in the city, I thought that was the day I was going to met my maker. Now I’m almost thirty three (in 6 days…ugh), twenty three of those years have been spent living in Christchurch, a proud and true one eyed born and bred Cantabrian and in all that time I’ve experienced about 6 earthquakes there. The other ten years have been living in the Wellington region which is far more active when it comes to seismological activity, in fact Wellington has always been predicted to be the next place to experience the wrath of the earth, NOT Christchurch. So you can imagine all of us were extremely surprised to be experiencing something of this size in Christchurch. I still have the flashbacks to that moment where I was thrown awake to see the bedroom wall in front of me being lurched back and forth violently several feet at a time, I’m not quite sure how with that sort of movement it was able to remain attached to the rest of the house. I remember screaming “EARTHQUAKE” and making a run for the doorway, a very difficult process as I was being thrown back and forth while trying to run. Just as I ran past it the 29 inch TV in our room came crashing down behind me. I clung to the doorway, as groggily James made his way to the door very put out that his sleep had been interrupted by something he considered to be so trivial, I don’t think he realised right at the moment the severity of the situation. All I could do was pray as I watched across the hallway to my little brother and mum clinging to the other door they where standing under, “Please God, not now, I’m not ready yet, PLEASE GOD NOT YET”. I really did think out two storey town house was going to fall away underneath us as the violent rocking seemed to go on forever, it felt like it was never going to stop and then the aftershocks started immediately afterwards. I remember crying and looking at my mum as she kept saying “Its still going”, at that point my next concern was to get the hell out of the house, I became hysterical as I thought of my pets, my three cats and one dog, my fur children. I’m forever thankful for my mum and James who managed to get me calm enough to get out of the house, they opened the doors and let the animals just run outside as the aftershocks kept coming. This is a once in a lifetime event the experts told us, this is something you will only experience once and now the appropriate aftershock sequence will follow. They were wrong.
Flash forward to February 22nd 2011 at 12:51 pm. No more than half an hour earlier I’d been sitting in one of the malls having lunch with one of my best friends, her mother and her little daughter. We’d been discussing all the predictions that were being banded about that there would be another major quake and this was not over. I claimed it to all be nonsense, preferring to listen to the experts and the scientists so my opinions lay in the camp of the geologists, I proclaimed that according to Science this wouldn't happen again and that we were safe. The experts weren't wrong, they just didn't know as this has never happened before in the history of seismic recording, what they didn't know was that the September quake which belonged to a previously unknown fault line had now activated another fault line and it was at 12:51 that we discovered the ferocity of mother nature once again. This time though it was during the day, there were many people in our Central Business District working and shopping, it was lunchtime so there were a lot of people outside on their break, right in the path of falling building facades. I was inside a store in the mall with my friend, her daughter and her mother when it hit, luckily for us we were in the clothing department, which meant there wasn't a lot to fall on us, but I remember us all clinging to one another as we struggled to stand, the building rocking and rolling violently, we watched the roof above us, the lights dancing a fit as we wondered is it going to crash down on us, is this our final moment. For the second time in less than six months I thought my time was up again. Then there was mayhem as the quake ended and the alarms screamed at us, it was pure insanity as everybody bolted and ran for the doors to escape, I’ve never seen such a terrified stampede of people before. A normal twenty minute journey home took two hours and it was the scariest two hours of my life, massive aftershocks were rocking the roads and I feared many times on the way home that the ground was going to open up and swallow me and my car. We left the city that day, only to return to pack our belongings up and say goodbye to family and friends.
Then on June 13th as earlier mentioned it was once again hit with a 6.3 and the cycle started all over again. The only saving grace this time is that no one was killed because town is still shut down and is part of the red zone, meaning only construction and demolition are allowed in there. A lucky twist of fate as another one hundred and forty something buildings were damaged further or collapsed that day. It has been a long nine and a half months for Christchurch and the people that call it home, and according to geologists it may not be over just yet. In this last week we learnt which suburbs and streets are considered to be the red zone, this means the houses will be pulled down and they will not rebuild there, whole suburbs are going to be demolished back to the land they once were and the owners of those houses will be compensated. I struggle to comprehend the drastic changes that will take place to my once beautiful city. Many have stayed strong and stood firm, proclaiming that Christchurch will rise from the debris and it will be beautiful once again. But, for me the city I love and adore no longer stands and for that reason I have mourned for her and continue to do so. I feel like I have lost a friend, I adored the beautiful architecture of our heritage buildings, they were the history of our city and also of my family who on my fathers side had a hand in the design of them. I’ve always loved Christchurch for that very reason, its historic beauty always captured my heart and took my breath away no matter how many times a week I would see these buildings. I’ve been known to sit and stare at the buildings within the art centre while visiting it for the weekend markets. In fact I loved it so much that almost thirteen years ago myself and my then husband had our wedding photos taken there, it breaks my heart now to know that the art centre is now falling down where it once stood proudly.
I mourn the loss of those who died within our city limits, two of which I knew, granted they were not close friends and family but they were people that I had known either growing up or through study and they had left a lasting impression on me years later and my heart breaks for their families who have lost them. I am left with regret that I hadn't kept them close and remained in contact over the years. I feel the pain of my brothers and sisters of Christchurch, the fear and mental wearing on them is hard, but I am proud at how much strength they all show, I ran away much sooner than they have and I’m proud at their loyalty to our home town. My heart is broken and I feel like I am living in a nightmare that has no hope of ending, I still struggle to believe that this has all happened to the place I love with all my heart. I don't think that I will ever return permanently, the trauma and damage done has been too great for me and I want to remember living in the beautiful City she once was. But, I will always and forever remain a Cantab at Heart.
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