Earthquakes

As most of you probably know, Christchurch has endured a series of major earthquakes this year that destroyed the heart of the city and forced me to do a lot of thinking before deciding to come here anyway despite what’s happened. Last September the first earthquake (7.1) happened, which destroyed a lot of the city’s infrastructure and weakened, if not destroyed, many buildings. Another earthquake/aftershock (6.3) came in February, which made the existing problems worse and brought the total death toll to 180. The worst part is the worst damage coincidentally happened right in the center of downtown, so it truly destroyed the life of the city—the whole area is still fenced off, see pictures and more below. Aftershocks have continued since, and the people here are beat down because their homes have been destroyed and they rebuild in the fear that everything will come crumbling down again. If you want to learn more about the earthquakes start here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/February_2011_Christchurch_earthquake           

Aftershocks are common, and though they think it’s unlikely another earthquake the scale of the first two will happen soon, aftershocks ranging from imperceptible to large enough to cause more damage do and will continue to happen. I didn’t know before I got here, but there are actually small shakes happening all the time – most too small to feel, but a few times a day you can hear buildings creaking, and I assumed it was wind until one of my flatmates told me it was a shock. Twice so far there have been shakes big enough for me to feel, which is still a little surprising and scary, but people who live here say you get used to those very quickly and it’s quite obvious when a shake is big enough that you should actually be scared and take cover. They’ve been having those sorts of moderate shakes (things might fall off shelves but no real danger) ever few weeks, so it’s very likely I’ll feel some while I’m here. I think I was in pretty comfortable denial about all of this before getting here but now I’m fascinated and want to learn more about what these people have been through and how to help. Of course it’s a little scary, and there’s a chance a bad quake could happen while I’m here, but that possibility exists anywhere and everyone here (now including me) is extremely prepared.

My college hasn’t been too affected by the earthquakes because it’s a few miles from downtown and this neighborhood didn’t suffer much damage. Even so, after the February earthquake the school (along with the entire city) was shut down for weeks while power and water were slowly restored and buildings were checked. A lot of the buildings closed—a handful still are, including the student union building—so students had to have lectures in big circus tents. A fair amount of services and such are still in tents, but the kids here seem to have a pretty good sense of humor about all this. All of this background is so you can understand this picture ("another friggin tent"):

Today I headed downtown for the first time to see for myself what the damage is like. I followed the news after the quakes and had seen pictures then but I really had no idea what to expect, how much of the city would be accessible, and how much damage would still be visible. I was expecting the worst, and I was still shocked to tears when I saw what’s happened to this city. Everything looked normal as I walked towards the city center along the scenic river and historic bridges. I started to notice cracks in roads and sidewalks that looked new and pink spray paint on the doors of buildings with a date in February apparently indicating they had been checked. On my left a driveway was closed off with “danger” tape but the house looked normal until I ducked under, peered around the corner, and realized most of the roof of the house was piled in the front yard.

This devastated house was shocking because the first damage I saw was so extreme, but also because so many clues were left behind about these people’s lives and the obvious truth that they had simply left their home behind. Through the windows I could see possessions scattered; I could almost picture what it looked like before it was so abruptly torn apart.

And on the peeling door of their backyard shed, they left a request ironic and tragic enough to break your heart.

The closer to the city center I got, the more eerie it became. The number of people around dwindled and then the crowds were replaced by men in orange and yellow vests. It looked as though the people had just vanished from one second to the next and the neighborhood they left behind turned into some kind of war zone. The entire city center is fenced—everything beyond the you are here on the map below—and closed to the public. It’s hard to see how bad the damage is inside but even around the edges, 6 months later, ruined buildings are still there seemingly just as the earthquakes left them.

I walked past one church with the roof caved in and much of the sides falling down. The scaffolding on the top shows that this church was damaged in the September earthquake and was in the process of repair when the February earthquake knocked the whole building down. I’ve learned enough already being here that this is how the people of Christchurch feel – every time they dare to have hope, another blow brings them back down, and many have given up completely. A lot of people have moved, some even deserting their wrecked homes like the first one I saw. This thought, and the visual example of the church, was really moving because I can’t even imagine having my home destroyed so thoroughly that I was ready to give up on it completely. Signs around the city urge, ”Rise up CHCH!” But this is a lot to ask.

But Christchurch will rise up. The sprawling park that earns the city its nickname of Garden City is alive and well, more timeless and untouchable than buildings. Perhaps the most staggering thing of all was the realization that among all the rubble, signs of recovery are everywhere. For every damaged building two stand strong on either side of it. A flag waves gently in the wind in front of a high rise that’s nearly restored to what it was. An open sign still hangs on a café door, and a teacup still stands on a table though the stools around it are splintered on the floor. You can imagine the streets humming with shoppers, the floral banners on street posts bright instead of tattered, even as birds sing from the red zone fences. The fences, whose purpose is to say “danger! keep out!” are instead littered with notices of businesses that have reopened elsewhere, prayers and memorials, and messages of joy and hope.

(PS – most of my blogs will not be this long or serious! This particular topic was just very moving for me and I wanted to do it justice. I hope it gives you all a better understanding of my new home and the things I might learn here.)