After the Quake

By now the grapes have grown fat and dark, like oversized blueberries; we are dropping hundreds of bunches in each bay, tossing them over our shoulders and squashing them underfoot. By afternoon, I am sticky with grape juice. The sun beats down with the enormous heat of August in February, causing the roses to wilt and grow wild and give off a desperate smell. Some of the leaves have started to turn a beautiful burgundy, spreading outwards from the center in a pattern like a maple leaf. We net the scarce remaining fruit against the birds, stooping and fighting with branches. I pause now and then to let out a panicked, fluttering moth that has forgotten to waken. Enormous, shy spiders with long legs creep away from my monstrous gloves.

We pile into the van and head home, joking and laughing, speaking loudly over the roar of the open windows.

I don't hear about the earthquake until I'm back at the hostel.

If you didn't hear about it, then here is what happened: one of New Zealand's largest cities, Christchurch, was rocked by an enormous earthquake back in September; miraculously, no one was killed, and no one was even hurt. That's because the earthquake took place at three in the morning, and the epicenter was pretty far from town. We visited Christchurch about two months ago (see "Mountains, Gandalf, Mountains"), and couldn't help but notice the incredible damage the quake had caused. Exposed brick and rubble, closed businesses, and fenced-off areas were a mute testament to the quake.

But that was then.

According to the expert who's being interviewed on the news, it is not unprecedented for ongoing aftershocks to produce additional earthquakes. This is the case In Christchurch, where a second enormous earthquake has taken place, this time, at 1:30 in the afternoon, during the week, right downtown. "Unfortunate," "devastating": these are only words that don't begin to describe it.

The footage is horrible.

Buildings which were destabilized in the first quake have now been flattened, as if with dynamite. Christchurch Cathedral, for example, an enormous building made of stone, has collapsed, with people trapped inside - maybe alive. Corners of buildings have fallen down onto the streets, flattening parked cars. Entire blocks have been reduced to rubble. The death toll is rising steadily into the hundreds, and there are still people missing.

It is the single worst disaster to ever happen in New Zealand, and I am just a couple hundred kilometers away.

I call my mom to let her know I'm safe, then spend the evening watching the news with tears in my eyes. The expression of shock and bewilderment and grief in everyone's face haunts me. I see footage of people running around, trying to dig survivors out of the wreckage, or walking unbelieving, as if in a dream, covered in blood. It occurs to me that two of my friends are in Christchurch. It occurs to me that I could very well have been there. Or that this could happen in Victoria.

There are really no words to explain how this affects me, or why; but I imagine the grief the people of Christchurch must feel, their fears for their lost loved ones, and in the wake of the earthquake, I feel very upset and very sorry and very helpless.

***

A week later, the supermarket is almost empty. We didn't realize, but most of the supplies for all of the South Island came from Christchurch. That means there is no bread, onions, potatoes, canned corn, or other supplies.

But those in Christchurch are a lot worse off. In the city, there is still no water, sewage or electricity for many, and it still looks like a war zone downtown. There is a brigade of rescue workers still combing the crumbled buildings, hoping for a miracle; but the death toll has climbed to 161 - and is expected to reach at least 220 as more bodies are recovered from the wreckage.

Our life goes on, though.

John and I are moving out of the Lemon Tree, into a shared house with some other travelers. I will start working 12-hour shifts with him at the factory, and we hope to stay on like this for about eight weeks.

I hope it goes quickly...