Skip to main content

Update - Day 3


It is now the third day into the Canterbury Earthquake crisis.

Only now are we beginning to grasp the full extent of the damage and trauma Cantabrians face.

So far there have been 15,000 insurance claims on damages, and a full 50% of the homes in Canterbury have been damaged in some way.

As I watch the news, my heart goes out to those whose homes have been totally demolished, or condemned. Homes, old and new, some worth a million dollars or more per house, all gone in the blink of an eye. Some have no electricity, no toilet facilities, no running water.

Stories have cropped up today of so many close calls, of bricks falling down exactly where there people's heads had been just moments before, some of people suddenly falling into silt and quicksand, but managing to to escape.

Many were in tears as the news crews interviewed them, voices shaking, still reeling from the shock at the events that had transpired over the past three days.

Even my fellow Malaysians here were not spared, though this only applied to a few families. One Malaysian postgrad jumped through the window and cut his leg. Others report of broken TVs and other household items. One undergrad went hysterical and called home, totally blowing things out of proportion. In his/her (I'm not sure) call it was mentioned that they were stranded, cut off, with no food and water... Bollocks... that undergrad made a lot of trouble for the MSD here. The parent pulled strings high up in the Ministry. They got the impression that MSD was not doing its duty here. Calls were made. Trouble was brewed.And when Dr Rosli, the MSD director came over from Wellington to inspect the situation, he saw nothing of the sort, except for frightened students who just wanted to go back to their mothers.

However, I must concede that it was almost a miracle that no one was killed. A 7.1 magnitude quake. Buildings collapsing. Deadly combination. But total disaster managed to be averted due to a few factors. First, the quake happened in the wee hours of the morning, when everyone was at home sleeping. It it had happened during the day, the death toll would have been considerable. Second, because of the sparsity of the population, houses here are spaced widely between each other. People are spaced widely between each other as compared to the quakes in Indonesia, where if you throw a stick up in the air, it is bound to hit an Indonesian. Also, due to this, there is less need for high-rise buildings. Most houses here are single-story houses. And lastly, Kiwi workmanship is good.

As for me, I am just thankful that the area where I live did not suffer too much damage. In fact, we got off relatively scot free.

It's just the periodic rumbling and shaking that unnerves me, even after three days.

Comments

Cat-from-Sydney said…
My Mama had experienced earthquake in Indonesia, couple of months after the tsunami. It was midnight and she was in bed in a hotel in Aceh. Felt like she was sleeping in a boat, she said. But the locals panic and ran to the hills. Must be traumatic to have another earthquake soon after the tsunami. Syukur that your area has been spared. As for that panic-stricken undergrad, a spanking would do her/him good. Nothing compared to what we've seen in Aceh. What a way to celebrate your first Eid in Christchurch, eh? I hope the family is not worried too much. purrr....meow!
Jordan said…
Not just the workmanship, but also the strict standards, building codes, etc. That same quake in Malaysia, even in the middle of the night, would have killed lots of people (of course, it wouldn't help that in the middle of the night Malaysians are out eating; most of the deaths would occur at mamak shops haha).
Cat - I wonder what ur mama was doing in a quake-stricken place so soon after the tsunami.. :)
But it must have been one hell of an experience eh?

Jordan - Too true bro... An earthquake at any time, day or night, in Malaysia would be catastrophic!

Popular posts from this blog

My first fast food experience ever

Growing up in the UK in the late 70s and 80s, it was almost impossible to get fast food that was halal. Definitely not like what it is today. Back in the day, we lived in many different places when I was growing up, but I consider Bath to be my where I struck my roots. As a kid you don’t really remember many things that were not within your immediate scope of experience. Everything was taken care of by your parents, and that is something I have go to remember again with my own children. Sometimes I expect them to be aware more of what is going on around them, but when I remember my own childhood, all we knew was we did what our parents told us, moved where they moved, went where they went etc. Anyway, I’m rambling. Back to what I was saying, It was literally impossible to get fast food, and all we could do was just imagine how the burgers would taste. Fries or chips was not too much of an issue because we were able to eat Fish and Chips, especially from Evans in the middle ...

Premature Mid-Life Crisis?

"Sejak bila lu jadi mat rempit beb?" (Translation: Since when did you become a street racer?) Were the first words that blazed onto the screen of my Dopod PDA Phone when I told my cousin that I had bought a bike. I mean...Is it that strange that I happened to work my butt off, save up, and buy one of the meanest most beautiful bikes I ever set my eyes on? I mean...just look at it... Shiny jet black finish, laced with highlights of blazing red, topped with rugged racing streaks...  I think I just wiped a tear off my face... No, no, don't get all worked up... I haven't gone off the wall. It's just that with the increase in fuel price, it seems silly to spend RM600 just going to and from work every day... Think about it, that's a month and a half's pay for my maid! Just to get to and from work!  So, I figured this would be a good compromise - maybe 2 or 3 days a week going to work by bike, and going to the local stores, local eateries, and even the local mosq...

TESL my TESL...

Every journey has a beginning, and an ending... And thus, my wonderful journey that I embarked on as a lecturer to my first Drama in Education cohort is almost coming to an end... I remember seeing them all, one by one, their faces eager to learn, but shying away in the beginning, all reserved in the small cocoons of their own little worlds... And when they opened up, one by one, I saw in them different, beautiful personalities, each unique in their own way... each finding a place in my affections...and eventually each finding a place in my heart. Yesterday night was a special night that marked the ending of this journey with them, on the one hand a sense of overwhelming pride that I had directly played a part in their journeys as teachers, building the very foundation of our nation, and even more so, as human beings, being the very essence of who they were and what they became... To commemorate this night, I sang for them... A tune that they all knew and loved... A tune that we shared...