Earthquake Report, 14 March
Tomorrow, 15 March it will be three weeks exactly since the Feburary 22nd earthquake that caused so much havoc here in Christchurch, but over this past weekend I think all our thoughts have been with Japan. In terms of reports from an (only) moderately damaged ‘burb, the difficulties of our day-to-day aftermath here are dwarfed by comparison with the (now confirmed as) Level 9 earthquake, the shocking force of the tsunami that washed across Sendai and the surrounding countryside, and the subsequent nuclear emergency at the Fukushima power plant. (In itself a compelling argument for why a country like NZ should never go down the nuclear power route.)
The magnitude of the Japanese disaster, coming so soon after the destruction here—itself not small—left me feeling emotionally numb. Intellectually I have been shocked and horrified, easily imagining how terrible the situation there will be for survivors and authorities struggling to cope, but emotionally it is almost too terrible to take in. I have been very aware, too, that there is literally nothing I can do to help, beyond to give money to the international relief effort. So over the past weekend I found myself focusing on what I could do here, however small. This included digging out the stormwater drain along the street again, a job I did exactly a week ago, but which the intervening rain had silted up again. Something, however mundane, that needed to be done—and that I could do.
The thing about being out on the street of course, is that people see you and stop to chat—usually about their own earthquake day-to-day. One elderly neighbour said that he had just felt the need to take it a bit easier lately, and I seconded that idea as I had been concerned that he was working much too hard in the immediate aftermath. Another spoke of feeling depressed, because for everything she fixed, she only seemed to uncover new damage. Her house, unfortunately, is badly damaged: the timber part of the house is visibly off its concrete foundation. Someone else was worried about her flatmate’s cat which had disappeared after the earthquake and so far not returned. For others, the job of recovery just seems too big and they feel lost, unsure where to begin every day.
You’re probably picking up here that getting the drains dug out takes a little longer than just the digging part.:) Talking and connecting with people is definitely important, but sometimes it can also be as deeply wearying as the hard physical work. I am not certain why this is, but suspect it has to do with the emotional cost that one can see people carrying. So it is important to have “time out” and recharge the batteries, in order to keep going for the long haul—and also to be practical and realistic about what you can actually do. Then do it.
Very sage advice, Helen.
The Japan situation is the most awful thing I’ve ever imagined, much less seen.
I have been feeling fairly numb and helpless myself, faced with the Japan crisis. Annoyingly, my reaction in this case seems to be to focus excessively on problems of my own that have absolutely no importance in the grand scheme of things.
My rational mind sees this, but the emotions are running all over the place.
Time for time out!
When things get too big, taking one day at a time and focussing on the small and achievable is something I try to remind myself to do. It gets you through the rough patches, until the big becomes possible again.
I’m trying so hard not to add the disasters in my mind. Add Australia and Brazil, for instance, to NZ and Japan and the hurt is impossible to bear.
I agree with Gillian. Everything has just become overwhelming with a tragedy that’s just too big to contemplate. And still it is the little things that matter. Family, friends, neighbours, and maybe coffee (which seems to be code for friendly chat with fluid and sometimes cake)…