Posts by Megan Wegan
Last ←Newer Page 1 2 3 4 5 Older→ First
-
Up Front: One, Redux, in reply to Lara,
Big quake out our way sometime before June – I couldn’t stop shaking, couldn’t form sentences. That was a nasty one.
The one big(ish) aftershock that happened when I was down, I literally sat at my desk thinking..."OK, that's quite big...hmmm, there's probably something I should be doing right now. What is...huh, those ceiling beams are quite big, aren't they? Wait, what's [my colleague] doing?"
Eventually, I had the wherewithal to take a step sideways into a doorway. And then snapped into work mode - where had been badly hit, who could we talk to, etc.
Actually, the most heartening thing about it was all the Chch people who texted me to make sure I was OK. Which...yeah, I was. How's your house?
-
Up Front: One, Redux, in reply to Lilith __,
This time last year, I was working crazy hours, filling in everywhere I could. Because, if I was working, I didn't have to think about what had happened. I still have no idea how my Christchurch colleagues managed those first few days - they were incredible. All that overtime was my way of _helping_, but it was also my way of shutting down so I didn't have to cope. I spoke to my (sobbing) mother ten minutes after the quake, it took two days to confirm my great aunt was OK. And because of the power and phones and all that, it was so hard to be in touch, when all you wanted to do (as Russell said a couple of pages ago) was dispense hugs.
I can remember complaining about writing the words "the death toll has risen to..." over and over, and correcting people who somehow thought Avonside was anywhere near Aranui, other than being on the same side of town. Answering phone calls from scared and angry and lonely people, who needed to know where to find clean water, or how to get to a loved one. Wondering when the sheer magnitude of this thing was going to hit us all.
For me, it was the following week, when I was in Samoa for work, and watching TV1 news late one night. There was a story about how everyone wore red and black day for a day. I was exhausted, having worked about 14 days in a row by that point, most of them 12ish hours. And I sat on my bed, feeling so far from home, so isolated and disconnected, and cried for about an hour.
-
I grew up playing in that park, and walking through it to get to school. I still remember when Eastgate was shiny and new - and still called Linwood mall.
I hope your children can find some of the fun I had there.
And happy birthday!
On a completely unrelated note, I was having a conversation with a Christchurch cousin last week, and we were talking about building houses, and I was relating your experience. I said "my friend David...he wrote the book I gave Maddie for Christmas last year?". The three year old in question popped her head up, and excitedly said "Albert Otter!" You have a fan.
-
When I arrived at my Mum and Dad’s last week, the first thing Dad did was show me the cracks in the paving that keep expanding and spreading. At my brother’s it was the TV that has hit the ground a handful of times that is the problem. And the windows that don’t quite open and doors that don’t quite close.
From the outside, having not been in Christchurch for nearly a year, It feels like those small things that are the remnants. Maybe because I couldn’t face the central city, except for the container mall on Cashel Street, and even that did me in. I chose not to look at any more of the red zone – I was there not long after the quake. I don’t need to see it again. I was offered tours of “badly-affected areas”, but I’m (contrary to expectations) not a ghoul, and once you’ve walked through liquefaction in someone’s house, seeing the deserted suburbs isn’t hugely meaningful.
What I will say, is that a year on, the city does look better. It might not feel it, with the day-to-day battles over water pressure and road closures and the ongoing shakes. And, of course, I understand the frustration, and the anger – I have family members who lost houses in September, and won’t be in re-built houses for the foreseeable future.
But the city at least looks less devastated. It’s probably just that so much rubble has been cleared away, so many cracks have been painted over. It does look like stuff is happening. But then, I couldn’t bring myself to go anywhere near the Catholic Basilica. Listening to the first ten minutes of Morning Report this morning made me cry – I think I will stay away from the media for the rest of today.
I’ve lived away from Christchurch for more than 6 years now. Last year was the longest I’ve ever stayed away, and I am still not sure why that was. Everything I see in Christchurch has a filter – how it looks now compared to how it was when I was growing up. Now, it has two – how it was when I was growing up, how it looked after the earthquake, and how it looks now. And when how it looks now is an empty space – I’m still not quite sure how to deal with that. And how you deal with the empty space of a loved one, I have no idea. All I know is that Christchurch, the place and the people, is in my heart. Every day, but especially today. And with that, I’m also going to have a cigarette.
-
Up Front: The Aunties, in reply to Emma Hart,
It was just like Christmas except without the passive aggression and casual drunken racism and misogyny.
And not having to bite my tongue every time someone said something racist/misogynist/homophobic.
-
Up Front: The Aunties, in reply to Emma Hart,
Based on Christmas, it does. For me, at least.
-
MY "Aunties" are my actual aunties - 4 on my father's side, and 2 on Mum's. My Auntie Margaret is one of my favourite people on the world. No nonsense advice, undying support, and a willingness to make an ass of herself in any possible situation.
I have an aunt I can never get off the phone, an aunt I get drunk with on every possible occasion - she calls me "the dirty bitch" - and they all make me snort when I laugh.
-
This Christmas, my son sat in slight mortification in rooms where my best friends were telling stories. That’s what aunties are for. The lying bitches.
Pfft. There was no lying.
-
OnPoint: Dear Labour Caucus, in reply to Craig Ranapia,
Word. It's often the times I've been...robustly disagreeing with someone that I've learned the most. And I've been pretty close to flouncing on any number of occasions. But PAS always drags me back in.
-
OnPoint: Dear Labour Caucus, in reply to Russell Brown,
Well, they both involve, um, heat and pressure, right?