Earthquake Day 3 (24 February)
Firstly , thank you all so much for your comments and support. I am reading all your texts (although these are still sometimes intermittent in their arrival) and emails and replying as much as I can, but there is so much to do here that I may not be able to reply to everyone all at once. But I should get there ‘in time’–and meanwhile, please be assured that all your thoughts and best wishes are very much appreciated.
In terms of what is happening ‘on the ground’, I realised this morning that I was not 100% simply because I found it very hard to multitask in terms of processing what needed to happen next—and that is definitely not usual for me. So it may have been a symptom of delayed shock, given the cumulation of events: the earthquake followed quickly by the liquefaction, then the constant aftershocks and not knowing what had happened to “your people”—but knowing that this quake, given both its violence and the time of day, had to be bad.
You all know just how bad, through the media, but at a personal level, the liquefaction—the mix of sand and water that gets forced out of the ground and then settles into a black sludge (‘warning: may contain sewage’)—is the biggest issue for us at this stage. I have spent the last two days digging out around this house, as well as the stormwater drains on the street, and the job is far from done. But I was fortunate today to have the help of four fantasic friends (one of them my cousin, but also very much a friend-in-need) and it really made a huge difference to what we got done. Basically we dug and shifted the liquefacted material for around seven hours—and will be out there and at it again tomorrow.
We are still without water and sewer, so today was also the day in which friends rallied around—my cousin brought water and a whole raft of essential supplies, as well as helping with the digging, and a SpecFicNZ friend, Wen Baragrey, and her family were running in water and other supplies from their (non-earthquaked) base in Rangiora: needless to say, although we had water enough for 3-4 days, as per the survival pack guide, these very generous deliveries really took the edge off the immediate water situation.
Friends from further afield, in both Auckland and Wellington, are also sending care packages that we hope will get through (the current priority is medical supplies)—and no small ‘care’ either, but very necessary items such as chemical toilets, antiseptic handwashes and ‘special’ food for the cat.
The cat, needless to say, has been very freaked by the whole business. He has not run away as so many cats did in September, but he has spent the majority of the last three days hiding in his “safe place”, which is the bottom of the wardrobe—right at the back where he is hard to see unless you know to really look.
And that’s us—here; hugely grateful for all the support we’re getting, but still with a whole lot of work yet to do. In terms of what tomorrow brings—this will pretty much be more digging, with hopes that the rain stays away.
So good to have news of you, and know that many are thinking of you and sending strength and courage.
I think you’re right about the delayed shock thing, Helen. We’re all feeling a bit that way too, and we don’t have mounds of silt covering our yard! You find yourself forgetting to do obvious things, or just feeling a little lost for no apparent reason.
Hang in there.
I tried to do some work yesterday, as I had files at home, and found my brain was very fuzzy. We have a lot of liquefaction in the streets round here, but not on our actual property, so have been spared the digging. I’m glad you had friends to help with that.
I hope the rain does stay away for you. Though it was a blessing in disguise to us the first night, because we were able to fill a barrel with rain water. The EQC guys who were here at the time had already covered the hole in the roof and made it weathertight!
Wen, you were definitely a star yesterday—just getting ready to go and do what digging this light rain allows, but am ‘hanging in’ as much as possible.
Just heard another siren. These are the sounds of disaster, the constant sirens and the constan overhead of choppers and on the first afternoon evening, the military planes coming in.
Catherine, so glad to hear that you are ok. We haven’t seen any EQC or emergency services folk here yet but understand they are getting into the suburbs now.
Helen – holler and yell for anything you need that we can send. Please, please make a list, anything that can go into a package and through the post will be sent! How are the postal services – will things get through to your street address alright, or do you have to pick them up somewhere?
We can send any medicines you like, tidbits that are fun to eat etc. Please let us know.
Thinking of you all Helen.
The images on TV here in Aussie are just unbelievable – but so horribly true. We are used to seeing it happen in other places in the world, but not in our own backyard!
We too had planes and airforce/tv helicopters flying overhead in the Ipswich floods for a few days – unnerving, and such a surreal experience.
We had a bad electrical storm with very heavy rain and hail about 4 days after the flood, and it sent lots of us into a ‘spin’. My heart goes out to you all with all the aftershocks you are having. Nature can be so cruel!
Good to hear you are keeping busy – not at what you want to be doing – but gives you less time for ‘thinking’ – and you have such wonderful friends and family with you.
Glad to hear your much loved cat is safe. A smart boy hiding in the wardrobe. One less problem to worry about knowing he is safe! Hope the ‘purrs’ have started again.
Thank goodness for your friend ‘Mary Victoria’s’ site where I found that you were all ok. Thank you Mary.
Thinking of you all, take care, keep safe.
We haven’t seen any emergency services people since the quake, it was just that the EQC assessor happened to be there at the time, doing the assessment from September 4th.
I hear 800 Portaloos have been distributed to the “highest priority” areas. I can’t figure out what highest priority means. Either you have sewage or you don’t. We don’t and there’s no sign of a Portaloo anywhere near here. Here’s hoping!