Kia Kaha Cantabrians

In the last 24 hours there have been 23 aftershocks, including "the jolt" as it has become known. The 5.3M quake rocked the city at about 5:49pm last night. Located in Sumner the site of numerous landslides already this 'aftershock' awakened the not very deeply buried fears of Cantabrians.

I was out for dinner with the leaders of the Salvation Army when we watched with fascination, and in apparent slow motion, as the concrete slab outside their lounge room window rose and fell like a bizarre Mexican wave. The garden beds, resplendent with some kind of pink flower, seemed to bow in reverence to the staked roses that alongside them swayed as if hit by a sudden gust of wind.

It seemed like seconds, but must have been almost instantaneously that then the ceiling, the walls, the glass doors and windows seemed to bend and rise, before falling back into place with a thud. The laughter, masking the uncertainty and fear perhaps, followed soon after. Our hearts pounded as the reverberations and shocks continued like rolling thunder.

Ten minutes later another shock, laughably smaller (3.4M), interrupted us as we sat down for roast lamb with mint sauce and roast veggies. Numerous other little shakes interjected their presence into our evening before the last one for the evening (4.1M) signalled the end of the entertainment for the night.

This morning the church was buzzing with bravado: "is that the best the best the Moon Man can do?" "Bring it on, that was a pathetic attempt". But behind the bravery there is still uncertainty and fear.

With the predictions that these aftershocks could go on for years, and the results of recent surveys that say they have found a new fault out into Pegasus Bay which could go any time (raising the fear of tsunami) and of course the Moon Man - this is a city on the edge.

But despite all this there is an desire for community and a atmosphere of ingenuity that gives rise to a tangible hope that like the mythic Phoenix, Christchurch will somehow rise again.

Last Things (Again)

Many years ago, my grandfather taught me to play a brass instrument and the song that he chose for my (and my brother's) debut performance, on the eve before our family went overseas for four years, contained the words "Now is the hour, when we must say good bye..." There wasn't a dry eye in the house, and that wasn't because we were leaving!

Once again I need to say goodbye to a group of people that I have had the privilege to work alongside. The last weeks (since February 23) have been an amazing experience and mostly because I have had the opportunity to work alongside almost 1,000 people from all over New Zealand and Australia as they have endeavoured to meet the needs of the people of Christchurch.

As always there have been some great days and some not so great days. There have been some extremely grateful people and a minority that have tried to play the system. There has been much laughter and some tears. There have been many meetings, and many flow charts and budgets. But most of all there has been the privilege of using talents and abilities to serve a people hurting and in need. The opportunities of ministry and worship have been many - but it always comes at a cost.

One of the costs is having to leave a people that I have come to respect. So, thank you to all that have allowed me to be part of your life for this time, but now (or soon) is the hour when I will say good bye!

Kia kaha Christchurch.

It's Time for Some Fun

In a suburb of Christchurch, within line of sight of the leaning Hotel Grand Chancellor a public park was turned into a place of fun and screaming kids on the Saturday. There was a bouncy castle and other fun rides, women 'performing' zumba on the stage and lots of 'fare' food - deep fried dagwood dogs, candy floss and red drink.

The sun was shining, the sky was almost clear, the wind droppped - it was a beautiful day. The kids were running wild, and the parents were happy for them to do so. The Sallie Community Care Mobile Office was in prime location adding to the mayhem and the sugar levels (as Robbie Ross tends to do) by handing out lollies, chips and drinks.

As we have experienced so many times in this period of response, the reception the Sallies received was wonderful. The expressions of gratitude overwhelming.

It doesn't take much: just people being genuine and available, offering service without discrimination and with love.

Small World

Almost 31 years ago I, with the rest the Class of 1980, left Hebron High School in Ooty, Nilgiris Hills, South India (yes I am that old). These many years later and half a world away, I looked down at the people that formed the new team of Relief Workers for Christchurch and there, in amongst the many faces I didn't know, was the face of a man I remembered. Graeme and Rosemary Wallis, who live in Wellington, were amongst the teaching staff those many years ago in India - and I remember them quite well.

As the week progressed, and as we reminisced about those golden days of schooling, another man too, older and wiser than I, introduced himself to me - Dr. Bramwell Cook (Jnr), he was a Breeks Boy - he too had lived at Lushington Hall, through those gates next to the Botanical Gardens, in the beautiful Hill Country of Southern India.

I was remembering that my first dorm mother was Miss Reid had punished me with her bamboo cane (2 cuts across the bare legs) for not going to the school clinic to get my cough  medicine. We were recalling 'emergency relief' that we provided during floods that impacted Ooty and other towns. I am glad to say I don't remember being punished by Mr Wallis - but I do remember the "Hebron Hot Shots"!

It is amazing that this far away, this many years later and in this most unlikely of scenarios the tendrils of Hebron, (Lushington and Breeks - all associated schools) continue creep into my present.

Thanks Graeme and Rosemary for the week you gave us (and for the opportunity to reconnect). There have been so many non-Sallies come and join our teams in the last 5 weeks - you have all been awesome and we appreciate your support.

42 Years to Save, 42 Seconds to Destroy

I had the privilege of meeting a couple today who finished building and moved into their dream home last April. Semi-retired and looking forward to the future they were set. But then on September 4, a 42 second long earthquake destroyed the house they had worked and saved 42 years to build.

That night their house rode a wave that carried their house 10" toward their neighbours, before it slid 4" back again and settled into liquefied earth about 3" higher than it was designed to be.

Before Christmas their dream was "unofficially" written off by 3 engineers, but no one would make an official decision so they put their house back together again with rubber bandages and carpet, they barrowed out the 2' volcanoes of liquefaction that had erupted in their yard and they went out to volunteer their time to assist others through the Sallies.

Life was becoming sane again, (except for a broken house) when on February 22 their house moved again: this time 2" to the side. This quake, more violent than the last turned the inside of their house inside out and their yard was once again visited by a river of liquefied earth. On the same afternoon they picked up their furniture and belongings and headed out the door, Lyndsay got back behind the wheel of a Sallie truck and Elizabeth got back into the production line to produce food parcels.

They have been going now for a month, and they would have it no other way: "That's our family out there hurting: we can't sit in our broken house frustrated and useless - we have to help." 

Out of the Fog

The Sallie Army arrives at Hagley Park early this morning.

Christchurch Memorial

As I sit in Hagley Park, Christchurch it is hard to imagine the reason I am here (if it wasn't for the liquefaction on the ground). The Maori welcome and blessing has just concluded and we were reminded that "in unity we are one", and now in the next few minutes we will sing God Save Our Queen and God of Nations.

The atmosphere is quite electric - thousands of people have gathered on a beautifully sunny day. The sky is clear, the mountains in the distance seem to stand guard over a grieving city and a people in pain. As the Emergency Services personnel arrived the crowd stood as one and applauded their efforts, as bereaved families sat in an area set aside, there were tears and audible prayers.

Following on from 14 minutes of scenes of a devastated City, vision of crushed vehicles and destroyed buildings in the Red Zone that will be behind fences for another 6-12 months, a lone conch shell sounded to mark the beginning of a period of intentional memorial.

Moments later, thousands of people stood as one, the hairs on the back of the neck stood up, as with one united silent voice we remembered...

Christchurch has a long way to go to regain its hope, but maybe today the seeds were sown as united the city grieved and gathered.

The Flags Are Raised Today - Symbol of Hope

In the distance the now familiar sound of the rolling-roar signalled that another shake was on the way, seconds later the glass and ornaments in the restaurant began to shake, and the large commercial drink fridge that stood beside were I sat moved, worrying some that it was going to fall on me. the 4.9M aftershock was the strongest we had had for a few days.

The staff were running for the door, the locals were tentative and waiting - but in all their eyes was the familiar look of fear - the quake lasted only a few seconds and then it was past, leaving in it's wake the sound of nervous laughter from those of us gathered. As Kiwis and Aussies are prone to do: the (probably) tasteless jokes followed soon after as people allowed the tension to vent from deep within their souls.

Much attention is focused on making the city, her buildings, her roads and public places safe. It is essential that these visible forms of society, especially significant symbols such as the Cathedral and sports grounds are restored: but the spirits, the souls of Canterbury's people these are not so easily healed, these will not so easily trust again - and it is this healing to which the Sallies are tasked.

Soon (March 18) massed people will meet to remember, many will see the reality with their own eyes rather than through the lens of a camera - some will weep openly for their city and the lost, some will harden their minds to the reality and bottle up their emotions - but all will tread through the city as if through the most magnificent cathedral - in awe and reverence.

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. 

Privileged: So What?

I was privileged to spend the day with a few hundred other people today - or at least that's what I was told over and again!

The fact is, I am privileged! I am privileged to spend time with some passionate, talented and committed people. I am privileged to have the freedom to meet in worship. I am privileged to belong to an international movement of people that has the potential to make a difference - and often does. I am privileged to have the resources to live a very comfortable lifestyle.

But if that privilege results in me being pleased because I can become absorbed in a self-indulgent celebration of my privilege then I have lost the plot. My privilege is my greed unless it is spent on others. If I settled for adequate rather than extravegant imagine what I could give to others.

I am privileged, but so what? We are privileged, but not for our own glory.

Christchurch 2010

Like most of the population of Christchurch, 'Alison' was in bed when the 7.1 magnitude earthquake hit in the early hours (4:35am) of September 4. Her eyes well up with tears as she remembers the confusion and fear as her bed began to rock in all directions. Getting out of bed she discovered piles of silvery-grey dust (liquefaction) erupting like miniature volcanoes through the concrete slab and carpet in her lounge room before it mixed with the water and sludge that was pouring through the doors.

In the 42 seconds that the (main) quake lasted, her house was split down the middle, her doors were jammed shut by the 3 foot deep piles of liquefaction and she was stuck inside - the night was pitch black and cold - and once the sound "like a run away train" had subsided she stood paralysed by uncertainty and fear.

Eventually she forced her way out the front door by kicking at the door to force the silt away, and stepping out into the night she sank up to her neck in the silver-grey 'quicksand like' that used to be her front garden. As people looked for candles and torches the neighbours called out to her asking if she was alright but scared that they too would get stuck in the suddenly unstable ground she told them to stay back as she pulled herself out and gingerly crawled to what was left of her concrete driveway.

When the light of dawn finally chased the confusion of the night away Alison saw the extent of the damage to her house. She had to call in an earth mover to dig her car out of the garage; the foundations of her house had moved both north and east about 3 to 4 feet; the rook had collapsed in the middle; but in what was her lounge room a display cabinet with her collection of 100 year old crystal remained unscathed - not one piece had moved.

I had the privilege of joining a team that visited people like Alison over the last week. Hers is not an unusual story. About 10 weeks on, and despite many aftershocks (my first night in Christchurch was punctuated by a 4.9 magnitude aftershock) much of the liquefaction has been removed, many of the streets have been cleaned up, but the numerous physical scars remain - and are matched, if not outweighed by the emotional scars - some of which are buried deep and are yet to find ownership and voice.

One of the most encouraging results observed is that new community relationships have been forged. Where in the past relationships between neighbours were civil enough, now there are partnerships formed in a determination to not only support and encourage but to overcome and rebuild - together.