The Trust Factor

In the last few days we have had over 60 Sallies out visiting affected people and properties. Partnering with the government’s engineers and earthquake commission officials our people are the first point of contact for the affected people. Whilst the engineers and officials inspect and determine the safety of properties it is our people that are talking to the people, advising them of the services available and determining the psychological and material needs. In some cases it is the Sally that delivers the ‘worst feared news’ that a family member has been identified.


Under the New Zealand Civil Defence agreement, in a disaster the Sallies are called on to feed, and provide food for affected people. At three ‘welfare centres’ (sports ground, school, community hall) the Sallies, with catering partners, are feeding up to 1,500 people a day, whilst other personnel are providing counsel and ‘a listening’ ear to these people who have lost homes and property.

At the end of the day, after the visit information has been collated we have an army of volunteers that will deliver about 600 food parcels to those who are unable to get into our food distribution centre. That’s on top of the 250-300 parcels that are given to people that have been able to come to the centre and find food and support.

At the moment and for the foreseeable future we have a team of about 100 people out there, (not including those of us in the incident command centre) making a difference and caring for people in the most basic but essential of ways. At the end of any day numerous affected people have had a Sallie give them the time of day and offer them a moment of hope in a context of utter devastation.

Every day, but reducing, we are rocked by aftershocks – the glass, the floor and the walls shake, the locals in our team take a deep breath - and hold it, then it is gone. Someone usually makes some inappropriate joke (about the lack of laundry facilities, or the fact that their wearing dark trousers) and we get on with the work of getting Sallies out there, amongst the people.

There is a long way to go, and there is so much to do – but the Sallies (Salvos) out there should be very proud of what is happening here. The reputation of our ‘flying squads’ is unbelievable: the partnerships that are being formed will both enhance our ‘trust factor’ and demand that we be accountable to the community, but it will also increase our capacity to transform society.
People will only be influenced by those they trust!

Building Sand Castles

I saw evidence today that the people who live down the bottom end of our world have a unique sense of humour… even in the face of unprecedented destruction some people have the ability to laugh and to make the most of a bad situation.

I have heard the saying “every cloud has a silver lining”, but I have not, until today, seen someone turn copious amounts of silver-grey liquefied earth, (liquefaction) into their own personal playground. I was taking a tour of Christchurch City and the Sallies properties when I noticed two ‘lol’ moments:

• We drove up one street, not unlike numerous others that looked like a pre-school sand pit, complete with Tonka toys. Heavy machinery worked alongside men and women with shovels and wheel barrows as they worked to clear their properties and roads of the liquefaction. It looked some spoilt brat of a giant had broken a mercury filled thermometer and the mercury had flowed freely into any available space. And in amongst this hive of activity a small boy climbed to the top of a pile of the silver-grey with a board nailed on a post and with what I imagined was the same degree of satisfaction as Neil Armstrong planting a flag on the moon – the young mountaineer planted his sign at the top. On the sign were the words: “Free Sand”.
• A few streets later, in a similar street, a pile of liquefaction was adorned with large ‘sand castles’ – evidence that some frustrated Mum may have said – “just go out and keep yourself busy”.

But in contrast to these moments of ‘joy’ there are the moments of panic and fear. As we were rocked by aftershocks at fairly regular intervals during the day the people who had lived through the ‘big ones’ grabbed hold of each other, some couldn’t help crying out, others just took a deep breath and held it until someone broke the trance – people reached out to one another and supported each other.

The city looks pretty much like any war zone. As we walked through it today the smell of burning buildings still hung heavy in the air. 4 building sights still remain burial sights with undetermined numbers of dead. Street corners are manned by military personnel and hardware, police and firemen. The city - cordoned off to the public, is eerily quiet and in places has taken on an almost reverential status as machinery and men dig in silence – watching carefully, hoping, but not expecting.

Christchurch is in trouble – and they need support of just about any kind imaginable.