The New Normal and Dance Classes

A recent offer from an overseas teacher to take workshops in Christchurch brought the reality of the new normal to my consciousness. Apart from the difficulties of arranging a workshop for someone unknown in the community at short notice, I realized I wouldn’t be able to do it even if Fifi gave me two weeks notice.


Over two years (and 13 218 earthquakes) on, here’s the reality of living in Christchurch if you are interested in dance.

Venues

Many venues are damaged. Many fell down or have been demolished. Many others are unable to be legally used (Red or Yellow Stickered). Space that is left is at a premium (any space – forget having a dance studio with mirrors). With enough warning you might be able to get a class to move so you could use the space for an extended time for a workshop. But not every one is willing to give up their own class – or multiple hourly hires. So if you can find something it won’t be cheap.

Something you organized last week (let alone last month) may no longer be available. When they decide to repair you get very short notice. I have heard with private homes of only 24 hours notice being given - although a few days is more common. Buildings are also being closed at very short notice. A few weeks after the February earthquake, I was in the middle of teaching a class when the hall we were in was deemed unsafe and we had to leave. But even within the last month or so, our local shops were closed and the shopkeepers given less than 8 hours to vacate.

Roads

The roading infrastructure is being repaired. That’s great – and when it’s finished we’ll be able to get around like we used to but in the meantime …

Our local bridge has been closed one way for about five months – and it’ll be closed for at least another seven. The way out is at best rutted gravel. On some days you get to drive on the side that is just half a metre of semi compacted gravel with wheel eating potholes. The way in is an extra 3km and until last week was also rutted gravel – with the additional fun of threading through a road narrowed by cones as they try and fix something; from there a choice of a maze through a shifting set of streets – or chance the river road isn’t under water or closed for repairs.

Then you hit Estuary Road where the underground services are in the process of being repaired – ongoing for the last two years. Sometimes one direction or the other will be closed. There is a sink hole that keeps appearing that is about as long as my car and about half a metre deep.

When they finish our bridge they will start on the next one over. So then our bridge will be able to carry both 10,000 cars a day from South Brighton and will be joined by as imilar number from New Brighton. Yes, in theory the New Brighton people could go upstream (assuming they aren’t repairing that bridge). But the road around the river which is now below high tide level and sandbagged, still floods. This does not just mean getting brackish water sprayed under your car but also the regular flooding has destroyed the road service and it is heavily pot holed. Cover the potholes (some quite deep) with water and it really starts to get exciting.

But all of that is known. I can plan an extra few minutes as I know I will have to detour to get home. What you cannot plan for is every other road. You never know when you set out somewhere whether or not the roads will be open. On two occasions I have been sent in circles in areas I was unfamiliar with trying to get back to where I wanted to go. Oh, and many landmarks – buildings and shopping centres have gone and are replaced by sections of rubble so often you have no idea where you are. (And no, GPS systems don’t help – they can actually make things worse trying to push you back into closed streets)

My students are reporting over 15 minute delays due to detours. Add congestion due to vehicles threading through fewer and narrower roads and you can add at least an additional 30 minutes to cross town.

The upshot is many people don’t take non-essential trips – such as going to dance classes, or won’t travel at night (easier to get lost in detours or hit unexpected potholes or flooding), or arrive with nerves shot and totally stressed.

Stress

Many of us are stressed. Still. Yes, I know – boring. Apart from the roads, there is the effect of continual aftershocks which some people cannot handle as well as others – adrenaline surge followed by crash over and over does nasty things to your body. Yes, the aftershocks are now infrequent and mostly light but for many the damage is done. (In the past week there were only 14 aftershocks – all small.)

A very small number of people are still living without services such as sewage. Many are over-crowded. (A two bedroom flat next to my parents’ was home to three families with children. Some were sleeping in the garage and some in an old horse float!)

Then there are a list of losses, including for some the death or serious injury of a close friend or relative; thousands have lost their homes; some have lost their whole neighbourhood; many have lost their jobs (and income); many are losing their schools, some are upset about the loss of the architectural heritage which defined the Christchurchness of home.. Add to that a swag of “things” smashed, damaged or irretrievable – sure some things can be replaced. But some have emotional significance and are mourned.

Adding insult to the loss of income or equity there are increased costs as insurance premiums skyrocket and vehicle repairs increase with the crappy roads.

Then there are a range of physiological effects. Not only feels of loss, but unease, lack of trust, uncertainty, fear, anxiety. All made worse as people struggle to sort out insurance and get repairs done (if they still have a house) and live day to day.



No wonder then numbers are right down. By offering extra classes outside my own studio (being in the Eastern suburbs is a distinct disadvantage with most of the written off houses and the worst roads), and being willing to hold classes even when only one person can make it, I’ve held my losses to only half my pre-earthquake income. But I don’t have extra energy to organize workshops that won’t be filled in venues that I cannot get hold of.

Monday 13 June – Earthquakes Again!

My next blog was meant to be about stretching – but another earthquake has pushed itself into my consciousness. You’d think after over 7000 odd since September we’d be over them – but this one was very pushy.

I’d finally decided to tidy up and put away. After all we’d had nothing significant for a while. The last three magnitude 5 pluses were on the west side of town so were no big deal in Brighton. (For those of you not blessed by earthquakes the magnitude is logarithmic and measures the energy at the epicentre. A 7 is about 30 times as powerful as a 6 and a 9 is about 900 times as powerful as a 7. But a 7.1 several km away can have less effect than a 6.3 right under you. It also makes a difference how deep the fault is. Christchurch’s little darlings were only 5-15km below the surface.)

So Monday the 13th arrives. I’ve arranged to cook for eight people for dinner at a friend’s. No need for the gas cooker I was lent in February – power’s been up for weeks. Ditto the water, in nice heavy pots in the kitchen. Won’t waste it but pour it into plastic containers and put it in the laundry (spoiler alert!). Now, start with soup – I’ll complete it and microwave it when I get there (spoiler alert!).

Across town to get the meat I want (my local shops are open but didn’t have the right cut and closer possibilities are still munted). I’m making pörkölt – a Hungarian stew with lots of paprika. Right, it’s underway. I can replace some of my ornaments on the shelves. Will still keep the heavy ones on the floor but the light stuff should be safe enough.


Next job: bookshelves. All but one have been screwed to the wall – but the books still fly out with the shaking. I’d decided to lace the front and fill in the sides to reduce this. And I’d come up with a method to secure the last bookcase. I’ll tackle it once I finish the lacing etc. (spoiler alert).

So, I’m crouched down with my screwdriver when another aftershock hits. At first I didn’t pay it much attention. But there is something about feeling like you are on a giant waterbed, while suspended over the cavity which is a garage and under another storey made of heavy beams, that give you pause. And what’s more it is continuing and I can here things crashing. It’s a big one. (5.3M as it turns out)

Poor Isis. Light and tall she’s hit the floor for the third time – very undignified for a Goddess. A bit of bluetack will fix that. What about the rest of the stuff? Pretty heavy; still on the shelves; just push them back a bit (they’ve moved forward a few centimetres). No real damage. Fill in a GeoNet report. Update my Facebook status with something light and time to start the potatoes.

Not too keen to go back into that bedroom though. Empty the chemical toilet? No, not while cooking. Maybe wash the kitchen floor now I’ve had reliable water for a few weeks. It’s pretty grubby after 4 months and won’t take much water – but maybe I’ll wait until I finish cooking. Potter, potter. … Wham! Thump! Thump! (that’s the stereo speakers) Crash! (CRT monitor) Thunk tinkle! (1 litre of olive oil from bench to floor – with plates)

Egyptian reproductions? Isis is standing firm – but the fake stone carvings are scattered across the floor. Books? Most still on the shelves with only some on the floor. Bookshelf? Yes, crashed over the bed – sans books (now on floor, again) With a broken water main outside my neighbour’s, how’s my supply. Trickle … and gone – but I do have 10l on the floor of the laundry.

Off the check the neighbours. Pat and calm their dogs. Now, how’s the bridge? Traffic is flowing both ways but I want to see if it is passable with my little car which doesn’t take kindly to 200mm steps in the road. Never made it on foot between the new liquefaction and broken water mains meant I needed gumboots – and nerve (some of the liquefaction holes can be very, very deep).

I get a text that the dinner venue while without power (like me) – does have a generator and gas. So I pack up the food – soup, pörkölt, vegetarian alternative, potatoes (uncooked). I’m giving desert a miss. Oh, and spare clothes, a radio, torch, batteries, cash – and a camera.


Off I go. Only now there is a queue for the bridge – too late it’s closed. U-turn. Maybe the Brighton bridge is open. Opps, the flooding is a bit deep – I’ll go via the mall. Missed the worst of it – and it’s closed. Won’t follow the river – they still haven’t fixed the road from September. It’ll definitely be under water – but Bower Ave bridge was almost okay last time. Head back to the coast then cut back. Not this time – but at least they had someone on the roundabout. Anzac Drive? Nice new bridge? Nope – and this time I had to go the whole distance through the flooding which filled the bits of road that had slumped about half a metre – either this time or earlier. Nice young man says I have to go west – so I do and realize I’m heading into Dallington! River flooding to the left, cars back up ahead, liquefaction almost covering the crown of the road. I cannot risk a U-turn that may get me into the unknown – cars have been swallowed by liquefaction holes. So it’s a 3 (or 4) point turn. Onward.

Back via Stanmore Road, where only this morning this building – and that - were standing. No more. But now at least there’s little road damage, flooding or liquefaction. Then - at last – after only 80 minutes and 67km I have complete a trip that is normally 6km and takes under 10 minutes.

The dinner went very well. All but one guest could make it. We ate in the ambience of 17 candles and I wore earthquake chic – silt covered shoes and a head lamp. (The gennie turned out to be only for the server)

There was one surreal moment when I left the roar of the gennie to visit the Port-a-loo and heard a strange sound echoing around the hills. It almost sounded like a call to prayer – a drone with indistinct words. But it turned out to be an automated evacuation message “Please evacuate the building immediately. Do not return for personal possessions. Immediately make for the assembly point”. One positive side effect of the 5.6 at 1pm was that malls and most buildings had already been evacuated when the 6.3 hit at 2:20pm.


And the numbers? From 1pm until 2:20pm there were six earthquakes (5.6M, 4.4M, 3.4M, 2.9M, 3.1M, 6.3M – 9-11km deep). From then until dinner started at 6pm there were 24 more (varying from 2.9M-4.9M 2-12km deep). There were 10 more during dinner (2.9M-4M, 5-9km deep). Overnight, add another 14 (biggest was a 4.7M - which is what I think did in a few more things at home). In all over 24 hours we had 59 earthquakes. Oh, and there’s another.

PS Power now back on and bridge open. Main problem was washout due to burst water pipe – hence still without water over here. Guess the floor will have to wait a bit longer!

(And here is my thoughts back in March Reflections Five Weeks After the Earthquake)

Reflections Five Weeks After the Earthquake

A break from dance related topics to give a personal view of living in Christchurch five weeks after the 22 February earthquake.

The news was initially filled with the shocking images of destroyed buildings, rescue workers and the army. Now most of the dead have been recovered; yesterday some business people were allowed back into the red zone to recover essential equipment and records; buildings are being removed, roads cleared, and life tries to get back to normal. But it isn’t – quite.

Here’s what it is like living in South Brighton – an area barely affected by the quake – very few houses are written off for example, but still …

Power
I was lucky and got power back after just nine days. Across the road they needed to wait a bit longer. The houses fed by the New Brighton substation are being fed via huge generators as the substation took significant damage (it sunk about 1.5m into the ground, all four incoming cables and the ten outgoing ones were “buggered”; they ran overhead lines several kilometres to another substation to try and get over the problems)

So, five weeks on we have power – but we are advised to avoid using electric heating – including jugs and ranges – unless absolutely necessary. This is especially the case from 5-7pm where a sudden switching on of appliances can lead to the power going off. This restriction covers all of the eastern and southern suburbs – I’d say at least half of Christchurch.

I was very pleased I had held out for replacing my log burner with another log burner – not the alternatives pushed by the council which required electricity to run. Only problem was, set in the middle of the house, there was no natural light and all cooking needed to be completed by dusk. Later, a friend lent me a portable gas stove. I continue to stash torches (with good batteries) all over the house – just in case.

Water

Next service to be reconnected was water – a trickle started coming through after 3 weeks – not enough to fill the hot water tank though. When pressure was restored my damaged pipes blew apart so I was off again until my father came over and capped the errant pipe (and at the same time fixed the four doors which no longer closed due to slight movement). At this stage we still have a boil water notice in effect.

What happened in the meantime? Well, only a day after the quake they had a water tanker at the local school. Hundreds of people queued for water with a range of containers – from empty 2l ice cream containers, to empty rubbish bins – and waited for a means of getting the water out of the tank (there was no fitting to release the water) - after 2 1/2 hours I walked home without any! One of my neighbours was singing “don’t have to live like a refugee”.

I had emergency water to drink – and some unbroken beer and wine for follow up. But had never considered how much water is needed for cooking – let alone washing dishes (I can now do a sinkful in 2l). Washing clothes and bodies were not even considered. We all stank equally.

Currently the whole city is on water restrictions – but my garden died in the first few weeks so I’m not tempted to try and bring it back to life before spring.

Sewage

This is still not operational for about 160 000 people. Many people have toilets that flush – but for many it doesn’t leave the property, or it may only to be blocked by broken or silt filled pipes further along. The overflow flows into the rivers and estuary – or are actively pumped into them. That’s the story here – but at least it doesn’t flow in the streets like in some places.

However, if they could get it all to the treatment station it wouldn’t help as it is running at only 70% capacity due to damage.

Needless to say you cannot swim at the beach – let alone do any water sports on the rivers or estuaries. People have already got sick. They are recommending to keep even dogs out of the water.

They started with thousands of Port-a-loos but since have handed out tens of thousands of chemical toilets as this will continue for 3-4 months (all going well). Note, to those who don’t have one – emptying them is not a pleasant chore.

Roads

Within days they had filled many of the small car sized holes in the road (no joke we are talking metres wide and half a metre - at least - deep). The 18 broken bridges are now mostly passable – although many are limited to under 3.5 tonne. Many of the roads are restricted to 30km/h – which can be too fast if you drive over a outstanding manholes (they rose with the liquidfaction) due to poor visibility. Potholes, waves, sinks, cracks are all a normal part of driving now. Trips take often twice as long as before. Adding to the traffic problems are the cordoned off parts of the city with rubble or danger of falling masonry.

Let me explain. A good route is one with about 50% gravel and only a couple of bone jarring ridges. Bad routes slow you down to a crawl. Detours and single lanes are common. “Water” on the road is not unusual – and you always suspect it’s raw sewage. But at least most of the silt has been removed.

Business
We are quite lucky here – we got our supermarket back up and running after only a few weeks. Many other suburbs around here are still without any supermarkets, fruit and vege or butchers – so ours has become a little busy. Still better than a 45 minute drive across town which I had to do for the first few weeks though.

Many of the big banks here are still closed.

The two nearest malls are closed (but who would enter a mall again?).

Obviously, central city is out of the question.

I have dropped half my dance classes due to students who have left town or are unable to get here – or are just too stressed due to losing their houses and/or jobs.

My day job clients were mostly based in the CBD and if they are working at all are just holding on and only calling on IT help for urgent issues. Forget pretty upgrades, new features or training.

So, we are still here and trying to make a go of it – but it’ll be a long time before it is anything like “normal” again. In the meantime – make sure you have at least 10 litres of drinkable water, containers for still more, investigate a bypass on your downpipe (and a barrel to hold the rain water), food that you can eat without cooking or water, torches, a battery or solar radio, batteries, portable cell phone chargers, direct plug in landline phones, gas or wood cooking facilties – and a pack of cards.

(And here is the June update - Monday 13 June - Earthquakes again)