3 months after the earthquake

I took my first walk around a part of the central business district cordon.

I don’t know how long the CBD will be cordoned off, but looking at the damage around the area yesterday, it is clear there is a lot of work ahead.

There were quite a few people walking around , on a nice Saturday or Sunday this is what Cantabrians do, we walk around the CBD cordoned area. Sometimes we do this is silence, sometimes with reverence, sometimes we talk to other people, sometimes we stare at a building in awe and sadness.

 The Arts Centre is a part of our heritage, it was our city’s first university. It now harbours cafes, and a variety of art shops, plus a weekend market, which is a favourite with both locals and visitors. The cost of repairing the Arts Centre will be around a hundred million dollars. The Arts Centre, the Christchurch Cathedral, and the Catholic Cathedral, these are important to our city. We have lost so many buildings of a similar vintage and style, and we cannot bear to lose them all. As strange as it may sounds, these old buildings are not just part of our heritage, they are part of the Soul of Christchurch.

 

 Walking around the cordon was hard. It was the first time I had done this, as I had waited until the cordon had shrunk enough that we could see the buildings that meant so much to us all. An area that is usually bustling, was empty and silent, behind wire fencing, the entry points guarded by police and army personnel. It was still, silent, lifeless, as if everything still stood in respect of the lives lost.

We looked at empty plots of land, and could not even remember what building once stood there. There were too many of these empty plots of land. Buildings that had survived the September quake with minimal damage just did not survive the February earthquake.

We've lost a good few churches ... many of them historic and beautiful. This is just one of them. Some were being repaired from the September earthquake but when the February one hit, they were destroyed.

The Provincial Chambers were beautiful ... likely the same vintage as the Arts Centre and the Christchurch Cathedral (I'm no historian, so don't quote me on that!) In 25 seconds the building was destroyed.

And amidst all of that damage, amidst that silent reverence, was the most beautiful sound. As we approached the block that houses the Arts Centre, there, just outside the wire fencing that surrounds the damaged Arts Centre, was a woman playing a saxophone. Amidst all of that her music floated on the air. It was perfect. It was the sound of heaven amidst what felt like the destruction of hell.

I had seen her at the Arts Centre in the past, but this time I walked across the road when she took a break, shook her hand, and told her how perfect her music was amidst all of the damage. I had put a twenty dollar note in my pocket before we left home, and her CD was for sale for twenty dollars, so I bought it. Every time I listen to it I will remember how her music touched me on that day. Her name is Elle Walker.

Imagine it. The city is silent, there are not many people around—in an area that, prior to the earthquake, was bustling and noisy—and these beautiful notes from a saxophone just fill the air. It was as if they were trying to take up the space of the grief, to fill it with hope, with healing, with joy.

Extra-ordinary Times

The greatest difficulty we face is that we are not living in ordinary times. We are in extra-ordinary times.

The problem we are currently facing is that people are ‘over’ the state of our city … but the problem is that no amount of desire is going to magically revert our city to the way it was, nor is it going to rebuild the city in an instant. Nothing is going to happen fast, except for one thing: a change in our own attitude, from selfish annoyance to patient acceptance. We can change that. We can do that.

Our central business district is ‘munted’ (to use a Kiwi term), and a lot of it will be demolished. It is, perhaps, time we let go of the past, as we are forced to let go of these buildings. The same applies to ourselves, letting go of that which no longer works well, clearing away the rubble and retaining only what is working, and functioning well, and from there we take time to discover who we are, and rebuild ourselves, a beautiful new self. The same applies to our city. Remove what is rubble or precarious, plan what to do next, and then rebuild a new and beautiful city centre.

Few cities get the ‘slate clearing’ action that we have been through, where much of the CBD is destroyed clearing the way for a new city. Many other cities may even envy us that mass destruction that makes a new city possible! (I would not, however, wish 2 major earthquakes and 5000+ aftershocks in 8 months on anyone!). Can we look at our city and not look at ourselves? Can we not look at what is around us and see ourselves reflected in the chaos? For this is the case, we are the chaos. Just look at the people around you, fighting to pretend life is as it was prior to the earthquakes, and failing miserably!

We are not living in ordinary times, and we cannot bury our heads in the proverbial sand and pretend that we are. What needs to change here is us! We need to be patient with one another, tolerant with one another, and we need to work together. 

The days of living selfishly, acquiring as many possessions and as much money as we can, are—surely—over! This is a new era for both us and our city. And we have the choice of how we will handle this. Let us not repeat the mistakes of the past, the selfishness, the material obsession.

Let us recreate ourselves as we recreate our city.

Don't stagnate on your path

If we sit upon the path of life, doing the same thing the same way every day, day after day after day, are we growing?

Or are we stagnating?

There is a lovely ease with which we can settle ourselves into a ‘rut’ into a repetitive pattern where we know what we are doing, know the outcomes, know the procedures and responses, know how to get the results we desire. Compare this to knowing how to make a batch of scones and getting a perfect result every time, but never daring to try anything new, never daring a batch of cheese scones, or bacon, or herb, or saltana, least the results are not good. We know what we are doing with a mix for plain scones, we can predict the result, so we spend the rest of our life making only plain scones, and taking no risks. We hear about other people making savoury scones containing ham, feta cheese, and sundried tomato, and we envy them, but we dare not try.

Though scone making may seem a bizarre comparison to life itself, the concept does apply. It equates to the saying: if you always do what you’ve always done, you’ll always get what you’ve always got. Nothing will change, or grow, or evolve. Everything remains the same. Think about going into any café in the world and the only food is a plain scone, and the only drink is a coffee with milk no sugar. You would not expect that in a café, so why would you even consider accepting that in your own life?

Change is movement, between one level and another, and the journey between these levels can be uncomfortable, confusing, and sometimes even painful. But, the higher level brings with it a greater level of peace, of love, or understanding, and of joy. It is worth it on a very personal level.

Do what you can in this lifetime. Grow as much as you can in this lifetime. Be as magnificent as you can be in this lifetime. Love as much as you possibly can in this lifetime. There is no guarantee what the next lifetime you live will be, so make the most of the understanding that you have in this lifetime, and push yourself!

Don’t settle for plain scones when you can have something magnificent!!!

Sacrifice for a new oven

A new oven necessarily calls for a virgin sacrifice!

Note of interest: by ‘virgin sacrifice’ I mean the ‘first thing ever cooked in this new/virgin oven’, not the actual sacrifice of a virgin!

 

This new oven was a longed for acquisition, and the decision was forced when ‘old oven’ took three hours to cook an orange cake! It was supposed to be cooked in 45 minutes! That was the proverbial last straw! In that three hours, my oven ‘crossed the line’ of what was fair and tolerable.

In the food challenge I undertook to entertain a friend who had broken two ribs, I had rediscovered my joy of cooking. Now that I have found that again, I need an oven that does not lie to me, and oh boy ‘old oven’ told some massive lies: ‘yes, honestly I am 180 degrees’, or ‘yes this really is 200 degrees’. Massive porkies! The oven thermometer we bought told another tale, that of 40 or more degrees less! (Yes, I know the seals are shot, but that’s no excuse!)

New oven. Virgin sacrifice. Necessary!

With a vegan and a vegetarian in the family, I decided that the ‘virgin’ should be something we can all enjoy, so we have settled on scone biscotti, from a recipe book given to me by my gorgeous broken ribs friend. A big batch, and four different flavours, I am thinking: salted pistachios; lemon zest, slivered almonds and preserved ginger; cinnamon and apple; chocolate and cherry. I can think of no greater way to celebrate a new oven, and break in the virgin, than by an orgy of aromas, colours and flavours. To be enjoyed by the whole family, along with a fabulous coffee of a vanilla flavoured tea!

Scone biscotti is a completely unnecessary luxury, an indulgence…hence, I think, an entirely appropriate ‘virgin’. And four different flavours, cooked all at once because ‘new oven’ has thermowave and a temperature gauge that has been raised to always tell the truth? Simply because I can!

A new oven is not something to be taken lightly. This will be the first new oven I have ever had, so needless to say I am ridiculously excited! The ‘virgin sacrifice’ is a must, and it cannot—surely—be something practical, sensible, it must be something indulgent, and celebratory!

And yes, I will be making another orange cake at some stage, a gluten free one to share with my dear gluten intolerant martial artist friend—who can kick my ass clear across the room, and whom I occasionally accidentally hit with an eskrima stick …but who loves me nonetheless!

The joy of preparing food, and then sharing that food, is an expression of love. That particular expression of love does, rather, hinge on having an oven that works properly! Let’s just say I shall be expressing a whole lot more love!!