This morning I thought it would be kind of interesting to see what newspapers around the world are saying about our earthquake. We've seen some interesting tv coverage from other parts of the world. Mostly England, Australia and the USA. I find it fascinating to hear what the rest of the world says about your own country, and it also gives quite big clues as to the cultural differences and perspective that, even in another western country, can be quite different from your own.
It has been wonderful to see how the world has rallied and sent help. We have rescue workers in the city from Australia, Japan, Taiwan, Singapore, USA, England, and so many other places. It really is nice to know that in a crisis other countries are thinking of you and wanting to do all they can to help.
Here are some of the world headlines three days after the event . . .
'A Brick by Brick Search' Sydney Morning Herald
'Outlook is Grim in Hunt for Survivors of New Zealand Quake' New York Times
'Two Britons Among 98 Killed in Christchurch Quake' The Times (London)
'Frantic Hunt as NZ Quake Leaves 400 Dead, Missing' Mail & Guardian Online (South Africa) This was a really well-written article.
'Rescuers Brave Aftershocks to Find Survivors' The Scotsman (Scotland)
'New Zealanders Dazed and Exhausted By Second Big Quake' Chicago Tribune
I found this same article in the LA Times as well. I have to admit I did do a bit of a chuckle at the style of writing. It's the sort of style my Fifth Form English teacher would have marked, "too over-descriptive, and too many similies". Here's a sample:
"Look at that place," said Straight, wearing a sweat-stained bush hat, his white beard in the shape of a locomotive cowcatcher."
The writer said that a house was 'cocked to one side like it was throwing a hip check'.
Interesting stuff. And while some articles were headlines, and some were buried way into the depths of the paper, it's great to see that the world knows of our plight and is thinking of us.
Guilt
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Lying in bed at night - eyes wide open - lying on your back so you can hear with both ears . . . waiting for it.
Watching tv . . . then having to mute the sound . . . is it a plane going over . . . or is it another one?
Putting off having a shower . . . in case one happens while you're in there.
Climbing over mattresses to open the windows in the morning . . . because the kids are all sleeping together.
When we arrived in Auckland back in January, my brother-in-law had parked in a multi-storied car park. I remember saying at the time, "it's ok - I can walk under here and not worry about it. I'm in Auckland. Not Christchurch." I have avoided multi-leveled car parks since the first earthquake. I once drove around an outside carpark for 10 minutes waiting for a park just so I didn't have to go into the 4-storied one.
Actually, we are feeling guilty here in North Canterbury. My husband had a close shave in his office, and who knows when he'll be back at work. There is now danger of the building next to his falling down on top. Everyday I am thankful that he made it out. I look at him and think that it could be him trapped in those buildings. When the kids are fighting over little pieces of Lego I remind them how blessed they are.
But other than our close shave we are carrying on as much as we ever did, except the tv is on all day, and we can't stay away from the internet. We have power. We have fresh, clean water. We're lucky that we have a bed to sleep in at night, a shower that works, a tv, and a family who are all together without the worry of someone missing.
We have a spare room, but our friends and family prefer to stay in their homes because of the danger of looters. Can you believe there are people in this city who are doing that! Unbelievable! I am always astonished at the depravity of a small minority of people in circumstances like this.
You suddenly realise that you've survived a terribly traumatic event. When it happened on Tuesday I had just sat down for a cup of coffee after spending the morning making tomato soup. I heard a distant rumble and thought it must be just another little aftershock happening - until the noise of the house rattling violently made me realise in that split second that it was a big one. I was home alone with Alice asleep at the other end of the house. I was actually confused as to what to do - the windows sounded like they were about to pop, and I remember looking up at the ceiling, and I didn't know if I had time to go and get her. I thought to open the outside door first so I had a means of escape if the worst occured and then I ran down the hallway to get Alice. By the time I got back it was subsiding. Then I realised that my heart was racing, I was breathing heavily like I'd just run a marathon and my whole body was shaking. Alice clung to my neck.
The worst thing was not knowing what was happening in the city. It was a big shake out here, so I knew it had to be catastrophic in there. I was terribly worried about Robin. His office on the first floor was already a big dodgy after the last quake and the quickest way out of there was two flights of stairs.
Then I began worrying about a good friend who works in the square. I was texting all over the place "R U OK?" I was pretty sure that it wouldn't take long for the phone lines to get blocked up. Then my phone rang. It was Robin. He was ok. He was very shaken and actually couldn't talk much except to say he was ok and that buildings around him had collapsed. He said he had to go back in for the car keys.
Then I began to worry about the kids. I knew they were ok - at school on their lunch break, so they would be outside, but Hugh and Meredith had been at swimming sports in Kaiapoi for the morning. Kaiapoi was one of the areas massively affected by the last quake and the pool had only been opened again for a little while. What if they had been delayed in getting back?
Alice and I raced down to the school. Amazingly everything looked just the same. After an event like that it's always funny, and kind of reassuring to find normal things going on still. I remember seeing a farm sprinkler working, and some builders backing a truck into their work site. People were out driving. Everything looked just the same. Even at the school. Except as I pulled up so did some other mums. Running to the playground. Some mothers were crying. Some kids were crying. Some of the teachers had upset children in their laps, arms around them, comforting them. Hugh's pregnant teacher was crying. Composed, but upset.
I got the children home and we were glued to the tv, and replying to texts and emails all afternoon letting people know we were ok, checking on friends and family who we hadn't heard from. Neighbours calling in. My friend who works in the square finally text me. She was ok. She'd been out on her lunchbreak. She hadn't wanted to text me, because she'd walked past Robin's street and had seen the devastation and didn't want to worry me if I hadn't heard from him.
We are so very blessed. So very thankful for our safety when so many are not.
We feel a little of the survivor's guilt. The kids are playing, taking naps. I'm baking for my brother-in-law and his family who are coming out this afternoon for showers, food and water. I've got washing hanging on the line. The sun is shining, the birds are singing, a soft breeze is blowing in my open, undamaged door and I can see the cows in the paddock flicking their tales idly in the afternoon heat. I have a spare bathroom and an empty spare room. I feel guilty about that.
It's incredible to think that just across the river so much chaos and heartbreak and sorrow is happening.
Watching tv . . . then having to mute the sound . . . is it a plane going over . . . or is it another one?
Putting off having a shower . . . in case one happens while you're in there.
Climbing over mattresses to open the windows in the morning . . . because the kids are all sleeping together.
When we arrived in Auckland back in January, my brother-in-law had parked in a multi-storied car park. I remember saying at the time, "it's ok - I can walk under here and not worry about it. I'm in Auckland. Not Christchurch." I have avoided multi-leveled car parks since the first earthquake. I once drove around an outside carpark for 10 minutes waiting for a park just so I didn't have to go into the 4-storied one.
Actually, we are feeling guilty here in North Canterbury. My husband had a close shave in his office, and who knows when he'll be back at work. There is now danger of the building next to his falling down on top. Everyday I am thankful that he made it out. I look at him and think that it could be him trapped in those buildings. When the kids are fighting over little pieces of Lego I remind them how blessed they are.
But other than our close shave we are carrying on as much as we ever did, except the tv is on all day, and we can't stay away from the internet. We have power. We have fresh, clean water. We're lucky that we have a bed to sleep in at night, a shower that works, a tv, and a family who are all together without the worry of someone missing.
We have a spare room, but our friends and family prefer to stay in their homes because of the danger of looters. Can you believe there are people in this city who are doing that! Unbelievable! I am always astonished at the depravity of a small minority of people in circumstances like this.
You suddenly realise that you've survived a terribly traumatic event. When it happened on Tuesday I had just sat down for a cup of coffee after spending the morning making tomato soup. I heard a distant rumble and thought it must be just another little aftershock happening - until the noise of the house rattling violently made me realise in that split second that it was a big one. I was home alone with Alice asleep at the other end of the house. I was actually confused as to what to do - the windows sounded like they were about to pop, and I remember looking up at the ceiling, and I didn't know if I had time to go and get her. I thought to open the outside door first so I had a means of escape if the worst occured and then I ran down the hallway to get Alice. By the time I got back it was subsiding. Then I realised that my heart was racing, I was breathing heavily like I'd just run a marathon and my whole body was shaking. Alice clung to my neck.
The worst thing was not knowing what was happening in the city. It was a big shake out here, so I knew it had to be catastrophic in there. I was terribly worried about Robin. His office on the first floor was already a big dodgy after the last quake and the quickest way out of there was two flights of stairs.
Then I began worrying about a good friend who works in the square. I was texting all over the place "R U OK?" I was pretty sure that it wouldn't take long for the phone lines to get blocked up. Then my phone rang. It was Robin. He was ok. He was very shaken and actually couldn't talk much except to say he was ok and that buildings around him had collapsed. He said he had to go back in for the car keys.
Then I began to worry about the kids. I knew they were ok - at school on their lunch break, so they would be outside, but Hugh and Meredith had been at swimming sports in Kaiapoi for the morning. Kaiapoi was one of the areas massively affected by the last quake and the pool had only been opened again for a little while. What if they had been delayed in getting back?
Alice and I raced down to the school. Amazingly everything looked just the same. After an event like that it's always funny, and kind of reassuring to find normal things going on still. I remember seeing a farm sprinkler working, and some builders backing a truck into their work site. People were out driving. Everything looked just the same. Even at the school. Except as I pulled up so did some other mums. Running to the playground. Some mothers were crying. Some kids were crying. Some of the teachers had upset children in their laps, arms around them, comforting them. Hugh's pregnant teacher was crying. Composed, but upset.
I got the children home and we were glued to the tv, and replying to texts and emails all afternoon letting people know we were ok, checking on friends and family who we hadn't heard from. Neighbours calling in. My friend who works in the square finally text me. She was ok. She'd been out on her lunchbreak. She hadn't wanted to text me, because she'd walked past Robin's street and had seen the devastation and didn't want to worry me if I hadn't heard from him.
We are so very blessed. So very thankful for our safety when so many are not.
We feel a little of the survivor's guilt. The kids are playing, taking naps. I'm baking for my brother-in-law and his family who are coming out this afternoon for showers, food and water. I've got washing hanging on the line. The sun is shining, the birds are singing, a soft breeze is blowing in my open, undamaged door and I can see the cows in the paddock flicking their tales idly in the afternoon heat. I have a spare bathroom and an empty spare room. I feel guilty about that.
It's incredible to think that just across the river so much chaos and heartbreak and sorrow is happening.
Here We Go Again
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Just wanted to let you all know that we are ok. The earthquake has been devastating, but we are very blessed to be living in North Canterbury on clay soil. I will never ever complain about clay soil again!
My husband Robin had a close shave in his city office. He dived under his desk and expected the building to collapse. He managed to clear a path of filing cabinets and tables and debris to get him and his coworkers out of the building. The stairwell was pitch black, he said, in spite of it being in the middle of the day. And then he had to go back in to fetch his car keys!
I was mostly worried about him, as I knew the children were on their lunch break and this part of Christchurch where we live does seem to fare well in the quakes. I was so thankful when he managed to get through on the phone to say he was ok, though traumatised.
Our thoughts and prayers tonight are with those people trapped and their families. It is cold and raining here tonight. God speed the rescuers.
My husband Robin had a close shave in his city office. He dived under his desk and expected the building to collapse. He managed to clear a path of filing cabinets and tables and debris to get him and his coworkers out of the building. The stairwell was pitch black, he said, in spite of it being in the middle of the day. And then he had to go back in to fetch his car keys!
I was mostly worried about him, as I knew the children were on their lunch break and this part of Christchurch where we live does seem to fare well in the quakes. I was so thankful when he managed to get through on the phone to say he was ok, though traumatised.
Our thoughts and prayers tonight are with those people trapped and their families. It is cold and raining here tonight. God speed the rescuers.
Catching the School Bus
Friday, February 18, 2011
I am having lots of fun. I should say, my boys are having lots of fun and it has to do with this . . .
That's what I love about boys - getting excited over things with wheels. They even had me excited about it!
Both the boys caught the bus this morning to school. I gave Hugh strict instructions to make sure he took Theodore to his classroom when they arrived.
Then I had the thought that maybe I should run down to the school at 3 o'clock and make sure that Theodore gets on the right bus to come home. There are two buses. One comes our way. The other goes in the opposite direction. I just knew that he would be so keen to get on the bus for a ride that he'd jump on the first one he reached.
I waited outside his classroom for the bell to ring. He saw me as he came out onto the steps.
"Mum . . . I'm catching the bus." And he took off running!
We caught up to him and found his big brother and heard from his teacher that you have to go and get signed off first and then find Bus #2. As soon as the duty teacher for the bus ticked his name, Theodore was off.
I followed and saw his happy little face in amongst all the other sea of faces peering out of the bus windows.
The girls and I raced home, grabbed the buggy and the camera and walked to the end of out lane, which took about 8 minutes of fast walking to meet them. It was hot, and we were tired and sweaty. Doing that twice a day might actually be better than Zumba!
We only had to wait a couple of minutes until we saw the bus arriving, and the last two boys getting off. Thankfully, it was the right two boys. Hugh told me later that he was worried the whole entire way home, because at each stop, Theodore kept trying to get off! Oh boy! I'm glad he was sitting at the front to keep his little brother on the bus. Might have to talk about a few bus rules, me thinks!
That's what I love about boys - getting excited over things with wheels. They even had me excited about it!
Both the boys caught the bus this morning to school. I gave Hugh strict instructions to make sure he took Theodore to his classroom when they arrived.
Then I had the thought that maybe I should run down to the school at 3 o'clock and make sure that Theodore gets on the right bus to come home. There are two buses. One comes our way. The other goes in the opposite direction. I just knew that he would be so keen to get on the bus for a ride that he'd jump on the first one he reached.
I waited outside his classroom for the bell to ring. He saw me as he came out onto the steps.
"Mum . . . I'm catching the bus." And he took off running!
We caught up to him and found his big brother and heard from his teacher that you have to go and get signed off first and then find Bus #2. As soon as the duty teacher for the bus ticked his name, Theodore was off.
I followed and saw his happy little face in amongst all the other sea of faces peering out of the bus windows.
The girls and I raced home, grabbed the buggy and the camera and walked to the end of out lane, which took about 8 minutes of fast walking to meet them. It was hot, and we were tired and sweaty. Doing that twice a day might actually be better than Zumba!
We only had to wait a couple of minutes until we saw the bus arriving, and the last two boys getting off. Thankfully, it was the right two boys. Hugh told me later that he was worried the whole entire way home, because at each stop, Theodore kept trying to get off! Oh boy! I'm glad he was sitting at the front to keep his little brother on the bus. Might have to talk about a few bus rules, me thinks!
Mainstreaming my Kids - into School
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Well, we've done it. We've given up homeschooling. The boys started at school this week and Meredith is to go on Monday. I'm suffering from a little bit of separation anxiety - mostly over Theodore - but the boys are not suffering. I have been enjoying taking them through the shady gates of the rural school each morning and picking them up, all hot and untidy, and both talking at once to tell me about their day.
So far it has been a good experience and introduction to school life. The principal has gone out of his way each day to make sure we're all happy and know what we have to do. The teachers have been lovely, introducing themselves, helping me with book lists and settling the children in. It's not a christian school, but I have a wee prejudice against some christian schools anyway. It's not a private school either.
Country schools in New Zealand are usually really, really lovely and small and very family-oriented. In a few weeks the children will be able to take the bus to school from home - which is one of the things they are mostly looking forward to.
We have been slowly thinking about school for awhile (as some of you know), and when we were in Auckland we had some really good conversations with some of Robin's family, (who are quite academic), and also with some good family friends who have homeschooled and then later sent their children to school, and we have weighed everything up and decided that if we were going to put them into school, that now would probably be the best time, before we hit the highschool years. Homeschooling in New Zealand has been quite an isolating experience for me (in spite of trying to fit in and make friends) - it is still a kind of weird thing to do here in NZ, and the education system really doesn't make it easy for the child at the other end of schooling (when they leave).
So we've done it. I have mixed feelings still, but mostly relief. As long as the children are happy and make some nice friends, then it will be ok. The one thing that I did like about homeschooling is that you are going against the stream - doing something different and unique and not cloning your kids into a system designed by liberals and narrow-minded educators, but there are things about homeschooling that I didn't like, either, and I'm looking forward to the children making some nice friends, learning how to be accountable and working to a rigid timetable (I've always found that hard to enforce as their mother), and trying out new opportunities that are not available outside the school system.
This week has been incredibly crazy for me - which is why my blogging has taken a back seat, but next week I hope to be back on track. I've also been getting my house in order - a big job after 6 years of having the kids at home all day - some things just have to slide (like cleaning out my pantry), but they are high on the priority list now.
Here are my school boys.
So far it has been a good experience and introduction to school life. The principal has gone out of his way each day to make sure we're all happy and know what we have to do. The teachers have been lovely, introducing themselves, helping me with book lists and settling the children in. It's not a christian school, but I have a wee prejudice against some christian schools anyway. It's not a private school either.
Country schools in New Zealand are usually really, really lovely and small and very family-oriented. In a few weeks the children will be able to take the bus to school from home - which is one of the things they are mostly looking forward to.
We have been slowly thinking about school for awhile (as some of you know), and when we were in Auckland we had some really good conversations with some of Robin's family, (who are quite academic), and also with some good family friends who have homeschooled and then later sent their children to school, and we have weighed everything up and decided that if we were going to put them into school, that now would probably be the best time, before we hit the highschool years. Homeschooling in New Zealand has been quite an isolating experience for me (in spite of trying to fit in and make friends) - it is still a kind of weird thing to do here in NZ, and the education system really doesn't make it easy for the child at the other end of schooling (when they leave).
So we've done it. I have mixed feelings still, but mostly relief. As long as the children are happy and make some nice friends, then it will be ok. The one thing that I did like about homeschooling is that you are going against the stream - doing something different and unique and not cloning your kids into a system designed by liberals and narrow-minded educators, but there are things about homeschooling that I didn't like, either, and I'm looking forward to the children making some nice friends, learning how to be accountable and working to a rigid timetable (I've always found that hard to enforce as their mother), and trying out new opportunities that are not available outside the school system.
This week has been incredibly crazy for me - which is why my blogging has taken a back seat, but next week I hope to be back on track. I've also been getting my house in order - a big job after 6 years of having the kids at home all day - some things just have to slide (like cleaning out my pantry), but they are high on the priority list now.
Here are my school boys.
The Substance of our Days
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
We are home now from Auckland, but still have that feeling of being on holiday. It's hard to get out of the routine of eating when you feel like it, wearing clothes that don't match and not being over particular about your hairstyle or your makeup. I enjoyed not having a tv, not having schedule, not having an iron.
Sometimes when I felt like it I would wander around our beach property and take photos of nothing in particular. Bush, flowers, bees, old buildings, people. Just being aimless is part of the beauty of holidays. Here are a few of my aimless photos of our beloved beach place.
The path to the beach - on a hot, sunny day.
Flax on the sea
Eating watermelon everyday.
Picnic lunches under the tree
Mossy banks
Bush walks
Lovely, shady, romantic, hidden pathways.
Beautiful trees
A bee on an Agapantha
The fun of catching fish
The wake behind a boat
Fun on the sea biscuit (just hours before he broke his foot)
Closing your eyes while lying on rugs under a tree on hot summer afternoon
It has been a lovely holiday - it always is at our Auckland place. I'm not finished yet with some of the highlights of our holiday, but this is enough for today.
Sometimes when I felt like it I would wander around our beach property and take photos of nothing in particular. Bush, flowers, bees, old buildings, people. Just being aimless is part of the beauty of holidays. Here are a few of my aimless photos of our beloved beach place.
The path to the beach - on a hot, sunny day.
My mother-in-law's old bedroom mirror
Eating watermelon everyday.
Picnic lunches under the tree
Mossy banks
Bush walks
Beautiful trees
A bee on an Agapantha
The fun of catching fish
The wake behind a boat
Fun on the sea biscuit (just hours before he broke his foot)
Closing your eyes while lying on rugs under a tree on hot summer afternoon
It has been a lovely holiday - it always is at our Auckland place. I'm not finished yet with some of the highlights of our holiday, but this is enough for today.
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