Commemorating February 22nd 2011
Today is the first anniversary of the February 22nd earthquake that resulted in the deaths of 185 people here in Christchurch, as well as a great many physical injuries, a significant number of which were severe, and major infrastructure damage across the city.
I know there is a huge amount about it in the media right now as well as official memorial services being held—and I also know that I am finding the intense focus on ‘reliving’ that time harrowing, a feeling of being retraumatised. Because of that, I didn’t think I would have anything much to say when I began drafting this post—but I find that I do.
So here, for what is worth, are my personal thoughts on and response to today’s commemoration.
Firstly, it isn’t over. Although the aftershocks following each major event appear to be decreasing in number and severity, there is still a very real possibility of another major quake.
And in terms of the devastation caused by the February 22nd and June 13th earthquakes in particular, we are still living in a majorly damaged city. For many people, the day to day is still incredibly tough. So we are still very much “in it” and cannot say for sure whether the worst is behind us or not. And that knowledge is always there, in the back of all our minds.
Nonetheless, 185 people died a year ago today, many more were seriously injured, and a whole heap more than that lost homes, businesses and jobs. So not to commemorate today’s anniversary could be construed as saying all that doesn’t matter. When it does: a lot.
Much of the rest of what I have to say is probably pretty obvious stuff. Like acknowledging the fact that it’s been an incredibly tough year and lots of people out there are still doing the hard yards. One thing about the intense media focus around this anniversary is that it does remind us of this.
Here’s the thing, though. Yes things are still bad, very bad even for many people. And yes, EQC, CERA, the Council—they can all be frustrating to deal with over different things, very frustrating even, and I’m quite sure they’re making mistakes.
But I think if we look at the big picture, if we really reflect on the tremendous, absolutely devastating level of damage that occurred last year, I think it’s not surprising that the authorities are struggling to cope and respond. In fact, overall I think they have done and are continuing to do amazingly well under the circumstances. And looking back to February 22nd last year, when pretty much half or more of the city was completely taken out, what I remember in terms of my personal experience here in the Richmond area of the—yes—East Side, is this:
- within two days, our power came back on
- within four days, Council contractors were on our road clearing liquefacted material, and
- we had the first door knock from someone from Civil Defence checking on our welfare and wellbeing
- within a week we had tap water again–we still had to boil it for months for health reasons, but we did have water coming out of the tap
- and within 10 days we had a preliminary damage check from a building inspector, accompanied by a second ‘welfare’ person
And what I think, to be perfectly honest, is that is absolutely amazing. A-maz-ing. And throughout this year, I have seen so much going on ‘out there’–water supply stations for those early weeks, portaloos, chemical toilet waste tanks, teams working on water infrastructure, sewerage infrastructure, roads … Plus I know people who are working on the Royal Commission of Inquiry into the earthquake (the human processes, building failures etc, not the actual earthquakes!) and others who are working on plans to rebuild the city—so many people doing so much to try and put our broken world to rights again.
We still have a very long way to go, too: we all know it. I’m quite sure—know, in fact!—there is considerable room for improvement in how things are being done. There’s stuff I’m frustrated and angry about as well—but today is not the day to air those concerns. Because when you think of where we were a year ago today, I think we’ve come a heck of a long way already, and actually that’s an outstanding achievement—something that everyone involved can take pride in, and that I wish to acknowledge and thank them for.
So for me, I think today is about two things:
- a time to remember everything we’ve lost and to mourn, both for individual people and our community;
- a time to really appreciate all the effort that has gone in so far to support the community and set things to rights—and to really thank everyone who has made that happen.
And maybe, to reflect on the sentiment recently expressed by Christine Murray, a survivor of the collapsed PGC building:
“Time is short, it’s time to let go of the hurt and the pain and move on, however we can. Although none of us will forget, we all have to do what we can to find the positive things in life … now and in the future.” (in the Christchurch Press, Saturday 18 January)
Kia kaha, Christchurch: Arohanui.
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In terms of my personal experience being on the ‘suburban rear lines’ of the past year, I have recorded something of that under “Earthquake Reports”, here, and Earthquake Poems, here.
My thoughts are very much with home today, Helen. I’m a bit lost. I wish I were there, wish I knew how I’m supposed to feel or that I have much of a right to feel anything when I’m not there anymore, facing it all.
I’m very glad that everyone here is together (they got home last night) after my daughter and her two boys spending the past three months in the Children’s hospital (since November). I don’t know how I’d have coped being home here alone, the same as I was this time last year, with them in hospital, the same as they were last year. At the same time, I’m acutely aware of my son being there without us, and me being so far from him. I’d love to be able to hug him today, and my dog, and my family and friends.
It’s strange how, in the end, being far away and not feeling the shaking anymore doesn’t take you so very far away from it at all in the end.
I can’t even imagine how it is for you and everyone who is still facing it all, day in, day out.
Thanks for commenting, Wen. I’m sorry it’s taken me a while to reply–it’s been a full on day both emotionally with everything happening here and more mundane ‘to do’ list wise too.
Wen, I would like to say very strongly that I don’t think feelings are something that are about “rights”—you feel what you feel and no one can say that’s ‘right’ or not. And you were here for September and February (and June? Or had you just left then?) and very much in the thick of it. You still have family here and you have one very special needs small child in your whanau that needs expert care and attention. And now you’re in a place where he can get that, and where the rest of your life can be settled while he’s getting the care he needs. And even if that were not the case, I don’t think anyone should feel bad for leaving. To be honest, I actually think leaving could be the smart decision, given how long its been going on … and still might not be over yet. Who knows? But everyone has different circumstances and we go or stay depending on their dictates. But it’s not about right or wrong and anyone who has been part of it, as you have, isn’t going to be able to switch the experience off like switching off a tap.
So I am quite sure that many people would be like you today, feeling it again from a-far.
Part of me is still walled off from it all. I think because just getting the stuff that needed to be done, done, was taking all my available energy and attention – the compass of my world has narrowed.
I still have not been out to Sumner – I still have not been in to the central city (or atleast most of it). I still have my job and part of my life is normal.
So there is stuff roiling away beneath the surface which is more visible to me today than I expected it to be. I guess what I am saying is that even though some things are walled off – it does not mean they are gone
Beautifully said, Andrew. I bet that’s how a lot of people feel. Something about this day brings out all those things that you either deliberately put away or didn’t realize that you had.
Andrew, I think many of us feel exactly like that–in fact I heard the mayor saying something very similar on the radio news this evening. And I read a very interesting article on Post Taumatic Stress Disorder a few years back that suggested that keeping a lid on it is exactly how PTSD works as a survival strategy. I don’t think it will ever go, but we have to keep going so we put it in a door with the room pulled a-jar, if not outright locked. But I can only imagine how tough it must be for those who lost family and close friends or are still struggling to recover from a major injury.
I heard the same interview with Mayor Parker.
I guess those feelings are about the only thing that we do have in common.
I give him some credit for opening up on the radio.
Hear hear, Helen. Good to see the real progress being made, apart from all ongoing frustrations. Go ChCh!
I believe that we are making real progress but it’s just going to be a very long, slow, hard haul. That’s the macro picture, but also the micro picture for people such as us, who haven’t even had a single word on stuff we were told needed to happen as an ‘urgent priority’ for health and other reasons when our EQC inspection was done–oh, months ago now. And you ring up and get told someone’s dealing with it as another ‘urgent priority’ and still nothing happens-ha! Anyway, I’m philosophical by and large, but it’s still very frustrating, especially as we are one of those homes that still haven’t had any action on winter heating–and as we know from George RR Martin “winter is coming!”
Hm, the winter thing is worrying. 🙁 I do hope things begin to move quickly… Know that staying- you – know -where is always on offer, whenever necessary.
I have visions of you moving into the office at Canterbury U.
What, into the monolithic concrete bunker with three more storeys of solid concrete overhead, having just read all the details of the CTV and PCG building collapses over the past week’s buildup to the Feb 22 commemorations? Have been sitting at the writer-in-residence’s desk v nervously over the past few days …
Perhaps teepees are the answer…
Now there’s a thought … 😉
I’m full of admiration of the people of Christchurch, my friends, the friends I have yet to meet and everyone else. The world’s attention moved to other, even worse things, and the earthquakes continue and you all keep going. You have my deepest respect.
Thank you, Gillian. The support of friends from ;otherwhere’ has really helped with the getting through.