Christchurch Earthquake 2011 - One Week On

A City in Mourning

At 12:51pm on the 1st March, the whole of New Zealand fell silent for two minutes. People gathered in stores, on street corners, outside banks, by parked cars as they reflected on the events of the last week. With the confirmed death toll standing at 154 and much of Christchurch in ruins it was a sombre moment.
Over the last few days, my heart has broken for the city I have come to love as home. Images on TV and in the streets have been carved indelibly into my soul. I think of homes that are now heaps of rubble; of malls that have lost their facades, leaving them open like a doll house; of petrol stations whose storage tanks were forced upward, lifting the entire forecourt with them; of streets ravaged by liquefaction and silt; of a landscape split and scarred.

I think also of people whose emotions resemble the ravaged cityscape. Security has been stripped away and ongoing fear is a reality as aftershocks continue to rattle the city. I feel some of these strongly in our double-storey home. Some are sharp quick jolts while others are gentle as though the house is balanced on a bowl of jelly. They are all frightening, especially when they wake me up during the night.

In spite of this, there is a resilience among the people. Mayor Bob Parker has vowed to rebuild Christchurch Cathedral, the icon of the city, and although almost one third of the CBD faces demolition, the new buildings will be safer, lower and stronger.

In the midst of all the turmoil, I have continued doing what I do best. As a freelance writer and photographer, I have written several articles and blogs about the earthquake and these have reached thousands of readers across the world. With my South African roots, I was thrilled to be called in to help Peter Groenewald of Carte Blanche put together a 10 minute segment on the earthquake. Peter was flown out here to capture interviews and footage and I, along with a Kiwi journalist worked on the script that connected the stories together. The team came to my home and we worked until 1am Saturday morning, researching, rewriting and looking at footage.

With 45% of the city still without water, the CBD closed indefinitely, roads almost impassable in places, businesses flattened to the ground and ongoing aftershocks rattling the region, recovery is going to be a long slow process. In spite of that, people are optimistic and community spirit is fantastic as people reach out and help those who have been badly affected by the earthquake. We cannot change what has happened but with God’s help we will work through it, hour by hour, day by day, month by month ... and we will emerge at the end, stronger, more compassionate and full of hope.

Christchurch Earthquake February 22nd 2011

The First 18 Hours

12 Noon I have a few things to do in Riccarton. I pick up a cheque for Kirstin, post some Trade Me orders and draw some cash. It’s Tim’s 21st tomorrow but he wants a celebration dinner tonight. My next stop is Northlands Mall where I pull out my shopping list and head to one of the stores that sells cheap novelties.

12:51 I pick up some balloons, a party banner and a badge saying Birthday Boy. Tim will like that I think. It will appeal to his sense of humour. I’m heading to the till to pay when there’s a low rumbling sound and everything starts to shake. Aftershock! The motion increases and people start screaming. I grab onto the shelving unit next to me as the floor heaves beneath my feet. Then a lighting panel crashes from the ceiling, missing me by inches. It sways in front of me, suspended by a power cable. I look up, try and keep my footing.

12:52 The shaking subsides and people stream from the stores, crying, shaking, alarms shrieking all around. I drop my shopping on a shelf and follow, snapping a few photos as I head to open air. People are orderly as they head to their cars but a big group clusters around the entrance to the mall. A lady is helped out by work colleagues and sits on a stone under a tree. Another woman lies on the floor in a foetal position, sobbing, face covered. My arms and hands are tingling with pins and needles and feel numb and strange. It must be the shock.

13:02 I try to text the children and call Kevin but the phone lines are jammed. I walk down the ramp to the underground parking to find my car. A dozen alarms echo through the air and I can’t wait to get out. Traffic is backed up and as I wait in a queue to leave the mall area, another shock hits. I find out later that it’s a 5.7. I watch in horrified fascination as the gigantic 3 storey concrete wall to my right waves and bends like a piece of plastic. It’s a wonder of modern architecture that it doesn’t shatter.

13:30 Home after spending ages in traffic. The house appears undamaged but speakers have fallen, cupboards are open, the contents of my sewing box are strewn across the stairs, bottles and pictures have fallen. The dogs are subdued and distressed.

14:30 The children are all accounted for and Kevin is safe. I get a text from Chantelle saying the school won’t let them out unless they are collected. Jason comes and we drive down to Burnside High. As we walk across the field, a 5.5 aftershock hits and the trees, cars and grass undulate. Pupils mill around. Girls are red-eyed and clinging to each other and staff are trying to organise them into divisions. 3000 pupils to account for is no laughing matter. I finally get a text to say Chantelle is at a friend’s house opposite the school.

15:30 Watch the non-stop footage on TV and mourn for those who’ve died today. The city centre is shattered.

18:00 With my afternoon shopping trip sidelined, I have to use what’s in the house for Tim’s dinner. Two chickens, rice, potatoes and a few frozen vegetables. Cans of peaches and pears are our dessert. We have no bread and two boxes of milk. The stores are closed and our local supermarket is in a devastating mess. I worry about food for a while then place it in God’s hands.

23:30 I know I need to sleep so go to bed. I doze on and off but aftershocks rattle the house every 15 minutes or so.

04:30 I give up the battle and go downstairs to make tea for Kevin and coffee for myself. At the same time I dig the bread-maker out and dump ingredients into it.

06:00 Inspect the bread and see I forgot the yeast. I was the same after the September earthquake. My mind turned to mush and I struggled to remember simple things. Toss the bread away and head out with Kevin. We drive through the suburbs and along the edge of town. The damage is overwhelming. Roads are cracked and sunk, homes destroyed, buildings shattered, cars crushed.

Please pray for Christchurch.

How Great Thou Art

Daniel and I were asked to go on an extended road trip earlier this week - 1500 kilometres in two days to be precise. It was loads of fun and between us we managed to lock the keys in the car and leave my suitcase at the motel! (We're still arguing over who was really to blame)

It certainly was an unforgettable trip, but also because of the scenery. New Zealand is a tiny country but beautiful - and we passed such a variety of landscapes along the way. The words of How Great Thou Art were in my mind as we drove through rocky mountains and fern-encrusted hills, over sparkling rivers and along golden shores. Have a look at some of the areas we visited and ponder on the words of this magnificent old hymn.

O Lord my God, When I in awesome wonder,
Consider all the worlds Thy Hands have made;

I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder,
Thy power through out the universe displayed.

When through the woods, and forest glades I wander,
And hear the birds sing sweetly in the trees.

When I look down, from lofty mountain grandeur
And see the brook, and feel the gentle breeze.

And when I think, that God, His Son not sparing;

Sent Him to die, I scarce can take it in;
That on the Cross, my burden gladly bearing,
He bled and died to take away my sin.

When Christ shall come with shout of acclamation, And take me home, what joy shall fill my heart. Then I shall bow, in humble adoration,

And then proclaim: "My God, how great Thou art!"

Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art.

Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art!

A Walk through Cave Stream

Have you ever waded through a stream in the depths of a cave, climbed up a waterfall or stared at the vaulted roofs of rocky caverns? There’s a spot in the Southern Alps where Kevin and I have done this several times. Cave Stream Scenic Reserve sits in the Castle Hill basin approximately 100 kilometres from Christchurch. To reach the cave, you follow a path down the mountainside to the Broken River - and then around a bend to the cave mouth. The walk takes you upriver though the cave – and although it is only 600 metres long, it takes about 45 minutes to complete.

When planning our last visit in January 2011, we decided to mention it in church and invited everyone to join us. We were amazed when a crowd of about 60 gathered on the morning.

The entrance to the cave is the most challenging part for some people. As you wade into the stream, light fades and water levels rise until they are almost up to your chest. Even in midsummer, the water is ice cold and a great shock until your body acclimatises to it.

On this warm January day, we posed for a group photo inside the cave and then set off on our adventure. I was somewhere in the middle of the pack and was amazed at how barriers fell away in the rushing water. People were laughing and interacting, pulling each other up waterfalls, and splashing in pools. The floor of the cave alternates between large rounded rocks and smooth patches of rock and children were lifted over difficult stretches and older folk checked on.

What a wonderful picture of the church, I thought. We’re like a family working together, looking out for each other and helping each other through rough patches. Our headlamps gave a funnel of light but although we couldn’t see too far ahead, we all made it to the end. The last part of the cave involves climbing up a rock face with the aid of metal rungs set into the rock. This is followed by crawling through a narrow space to reach daylight and fresh air. Some struggled with the climb but with encouragement, they made it up the ladder and through the crawl space.

Exhilarated and tired, the whole group then headed to Castle Rock where we had a picnic lunch and explored the unusual rock formations. Altogether it was a fantastic day – but for me it was more than just a walk through a cave. It was a lesson in life.

The Agony and the Ecstasy of 2010

As I look back over 2010, two words spring to mind - agony and ecstasy. It has been a year of extremes with a range and depth of emotions that I never imagined I’d feel. The highs have been fantastic and the launch of my first novel in October was a dream I’d had since childhood. To actually hold my own book in my hands and hear reports that people were enjoying it was an amazing feeling.

Other highlights included speaking at the Faithwriter’s Conference in Sydney and having a family day in Auckland with all our children and Noel. I also had wonderful travel opportunities with the part-time work I do and got to see parts of New Zealand I haven’t visited before. What a privilege to get paid for doing what I love.

On the 1st December, I received the news that I was first runner up in the Faithwriters Nonfiction Page Turner Competition of 2010. While I have won many awards for my fiction, this was the first significant placing I’ve had with my nonfiction work. My entry was entitled Christchurch Earthquake 2010 and that brings me to the agony of this year.

On the 4th September, my life along with hundreds of thousands of other people's was changed forever. The shock of waking up in a house, heaving on its foundations, shaking and banging while things toppled was immense. For weeks afterwards I couldn’t concentrate and it was an effort to do routine work. Even now I’m more jumpy and forgetful than I used to be.

The damage, estimated to be close on NZ$5 billion, is visible in every part of Christchurch and surrounds. Many have had to abandon their homes and businesses and the city centre is struggling to survive. The pain of all this was compounded by the Pike River Mine tragedy where 29 men lost their lives.

With the launch of my book mixed up in the middle of aftershocks and uncertainty, I felt like an emotional yoyo. I realised how closely tears are related to laughter as exhilaration and vulnerability, joy and fear, excitement and despair ricocheted from one extreme to another. The one constant was the assurance that God was with me. He never said we wouldn’t suffer or live through difficult times but He did promise that these times can bring personal growth.

In all this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may result in praise, glory and honour when Jesus Christ is revealed.
1 Peter 1:6-7 (NIV)

I wouldn’t wish an earthquake on anyone but I’m grateful for what I’ve experienced over the last few months. Whilst it’s been difficult and uncomfortable, I’ve gained a new appreciation of the suffering caused by a major natural disaster. Friends are suddenly more valuable. Community is more important and I have far greater compassion for the people in Haiti. I’ve also realised that God is in the small things as well as the big things of life. A simple word of encouragement, an email or a phone call can make a huge difference to someone who is struggling.

I played the following clip at my book launch as a prayer for Christchurch. I’d love you to watch as it’s also my prayer for friends and family as we head towards 2011. Life is uncertain and we don’t know what each day will bring. The important thing is that God is beside us every step of our journey.

Until next time ...

You are not Alone

I’m not a Michael Jackson fan but the words of his song, You are not Alone, have been drumming through my head for the last few weeks. I was thinking of them at 1:34am this morning when a 4.7 magnitude aftershock awoke me. As the house rattled, banged and shook, my thoughts turned to neighbours and residents of Christchurch. There’s hundreds of thousands of people out there, wondering like me when this is all going to stop. There was comfort in knowing I’m not alone.

It’s ten weeks since the 7.1 magnitude earthquake and in that time, I’ve travelled twice to Auckland and Invercargill, three times to Dunedin and have also visited Wellington, Balclutha, Kaikoura, Blenheim, Picton and a number of other small towns. As soon as people hear I’m from Christchurch they show genuine concern and ask how the city is doing; how I’m doing and how strong the aftershocks have been. I’ve also seen signs of financial support in these places. Malls have signs up, stores have collection boxes full of notes and I’ve been asked by staff in several towns if I would like to make a donation.

Initially I thought that travelling would give me a break from the earthquake stress. However, I’ve discovered that although I’ve left Christchurch physically since the quake, it has not left me. I see the city centre in the old red brick buildings in Invercargill. I see demolished stores in the rusty scrap metal site south of Dunedin. I feel aftershocks when wind gusts shake the buildings in Wellington and when trains throb in and out of Britomart. I see cratered tarmac in the road-works in Blenheim. I see destruction behind scaffolding and damage marked by traffic cones and fences.

With the constant reminders of what we’ve been through, it feels good to know we are not alone. Finances have poured into Christchurch from around the country and further afield and skilled men and women have joined forces with locals to clean up, repair and rebuild our city. Our scarred landscape is slowly becoming the new normal: broken roofs patched with plastic, 17,000 chimneys toppled, roads with cracks, wrinkles and ripples, stores boarded up, walls braced with steel supports, churches surrounded by mounds of rubble. You cannot help but feel emotional.

Many people have struggled with feelings of helplessness since the earthquake – so much destruction, so much damage and seemingly so little the average person can do. Apart from writing about the disaster, I’ve found another small way to contribute to our recovery. I headed into Christchurch-central early on the morning of the earthquake and took dozens of photos of the damage ... and followed up by returning frequently to capture the changes. I’ve used these in news articles and blogs and have also turned them into a coffee-table book, fridge magnets and mugs. I’m selling them through Trade Me and I know they have been sent as far afield as South Africa, England and the USA. All the profits go to the Red Cross Earthquake Appeal.

As the weeks turn into months and the months into years, our city will heal, buildings will be restored, new ones will arise and the altered cityscape will become familiar. Aftershocks will dwindle, memories will fade, and life will go on. As it says in Ecclesiastes 3: There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens ... a time to tear down and a time to build ... a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them ... a time to tear and a time to mend.

Truly we are not alone.

Earthquake in Christchurch

I often wondered what I would grab if I was involved in a disaster - my bag, my cell phone, my passport, my laptop? I found out this morning that it was none of those. I only thought of waking the children up and getting them out of danger.

When I awoke to the banging and shaking at 4:30am, my initial thought was the log burner had overheated and was rocking the house. Then I remembered we no longer have a log burner. By this time Kevin was up, dragging on clothes and calling me to get downstairs. I staggered out of bed and but couldn’t move. Every time I tried to take a step, the floor shifted at an alarming angle. It was terrifying and I realised we were in the middle of an earthquake.

The church alarm was going off next door and bottles, books and photos were falling from every surface. As the heaving subsided, we got the children out of bed and congregated in the lounge. I was quite shaken, literally and figuratively. Then the power died and we were left in the dark with only a couple of torches and a few tea-light candles.

Eventually we went back to bed after texting family in South Africa to let them know we were safe. Then my journalistic instincts kicked in. I got up again at 6 and went and sat in the car to listen to the radio news. By 7 I was showered and ready to go into the city. I knew it was only a matter of time before it was blocked off and wanted to get some photos. Chantelle came with me and we drove and walked around for an hour, shocked at the damage to buildings and roads.

Armed with dozens of pictures and loads of information from the radio, I then wrote a news report for one of the article sites I work for. It instantly made the first page of Google searches for “Christchurch earthquake” and received several hundred hits in the first few hours.

As we prepare for bed, the city is in a state of emergency and there are major issues with water and sewage. Aftershocks are still shaking us and tomorrow is supposed to bring gale force winds and rain. Kevin and I are both flying out of Christchurch on Monday for work – him to Rotorua and me to Auckland. As all the questions and uncertainty swirl around us, I’m reminded of these wonderful words from Lamentations 3:

Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope:
Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed,

for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning;

great is your faithfulness.

In spite of the damage, loosely estimated at around $2 billion, there were no deaths and my family is safe. Our power is back on and God has been gracious to us in the middle of the turmoil. Friends and family around the world have been praying for us and I have a new appreciation of what really matters in life. God really can bring good out of any situation.

Watch this space.