One day in March
we got an invite from Antony and Jeanette Raine to fly down to Christchurch
with them the following weekend. The
main reason was to see Christchurch’s historic cathedral before it was soon to
be demolished. The famous cathedral was
partially destroyed by the earthquakes that riveted the city in September 2010
and again in February 2011 and there had been much debate on whether or not
efforts should be made to save and restore the cathedral. The Raines also knew this would be an
insightful trip for Josh since he has been working with the Earthquake
Commission and talking to hundreds of people affected and to get a first hand
look of the devastation. We agreed to
go.
I had mixed
emotions of us going on the trip, mainly due to the fact that we knew this was
going to be no pleasure cruise, but would be sad to see a city fallen from its
former glory. We were glad too, though,
to be able to travel and be given a tour from our friends the Raines, as
Christchurch is where Antony grew up, and to see the beauty that still
remained. The plane tickets were also
quite cheap, as Antony had found a good deal, so that was a relief.
We awoke early
on Saturday, March 17th, and finished getting our overnight bags
ready. It was a beautiful, cloudless day
with barely even a breeze to caress our faces.
That was comforting, as we had already seen many a rough landings from
our flat overlooking the airport in the windy city. I love traveling, as does Josh, but as I’ve
said before, flying can make me feel quite nervous. It helped to know that it was just a short
one-hour flight, too.
The Raines
picked us up, and we drove just a hop, skip, and a jump over to the
airport. On the way there, however,
Antony mentioned something that made my ears really perk up. He said that thousands of people had been
through to see the cathedral, but that everyone had been warned the potential
danger in walking through the unstable downtown area and said for everyone to
be sure and bring two things: 1) A fully charged cell phone, and 2) a form of
personal I.D. on your person . . . in case, well, you know. I can’t remember what exactly I said out
loud, “Oh my goodness!” or something like that, but that shocked me and made me
wonder if this wasn’t such a good idea. But,
then I tried to just not think about it; I don’t always seem to have much power
over my mind, though, and my thoughts were running away with me off and
on.
We got to the
airport and a flood of memories hit both Josh and I again. The last time we were at this airport was the
day we first arrived in New Zealand.
That seemed like a lifetime ago, and like we were just young kids back
then. It’s like going back to your
junior high school on the first day and remembering how scared and small you
felt and how everything else seemed so big, new, and exciting. The 8th graders; Woah, they were
so scary, and COOL! There was so much
life and activity and talking and students being reunited with old friends and
others meeting for the first time, trying to find someone to walk with and hopefully
sit by during 1st period or lunch.
Then, when you go back and look at it years and years later, when you’ve
even graduated college, and you are in awe and wonder at how it feels to stand
in front of your junior high school again, on an empty day in summer when all
the students have gone for a long break.
You feel so big and grown up now, and like you have really come a long
ways since those youthful, naïve days.
And yet, it still seems intimidating, maybe because the memory is still
there of how you felt that first day of something new; a little seventh grader
with faces she’s never seen and a place she’s heard that is so different from
elementary school. Without all those
faces and teachers, and hearing those obnoxious ringing bells, the school
doesn’t seem so scary, though.
So was the
feeling I had standing in the Wellington airport. I couldn’t help but feel nostalgic. The place seemed empty and quiet. There wasn’t a rush of people to push through
and those with signs to show who is waiting for them with their name on it. Everything seemed different, and my memory
slowly recognized the little coffee shop we had first passed by with business
people sipping their coffee and reading the paper. I remembered how crowded it was that day when
we had arrived, and Josh and I holding hands and listening closely to those
surrounding us and hearing the New Zealand accent. We were so young then, it seems. Standing there in the quiet, empty halls once
crowded with foreign strangers in a rush to get to their destination, it made
me feel like we had been in New Zealand for years. We could not believe that it
was only four months ago that we had stood in that same place. We’ve done a lot of things, seen a lot of
things, and experienced more than I would have ever known had I never gotten on
that Air New Zealand plane in San Francisco with my husband that day in
November.
Anyways, so the
four of us finally found our gate and waited a few minutes for us to start
boarding. Thankfully we didn’t have to
wait that long, otherwise, well, waiting I just don’t care for. It was a cramped Jet Star plane, but we
didn’t mind since the flight was to be short.
I was so thankful I sat by the window.
We looked out and saw our flat on the hillside in the distance, and
couldn’t get over how cool that was! Who
would have thought that when we first arrived into Wellington? Take-off was cool, but anxious, as I watched
us zoom past the surfers in Lyall Bay; seeing how fast they went past our
window made me realize just how fast we were going, yikes! Once we got up in the air, though, I just
pressed my nose against the window and peered down below at the city and
surrounding area of Wellington. It was
breathtaking. It was so neat to see how
it looked from up above and see where our house was and the real layout of the
land…looks so different and then so small.
The buildings became just a little miniature model city with toy
cars. And then the deep blue sea with
white caps. I saw a couple of fishing
boats along the way, which at first I thought there were hundreds, but Josh
told me those were just the waves, which really took a while to convince
me. We were on the left side of the
plane and I kept seeing just the ocean, and I was thinking, where is the land?
Haven’t we gotten to the South Island yet?
A blonde moment I guess, which I finally realized when they said we were
descending into Christchurch, a mere forty-five minutes after we took off. I hadn’t realized that Christchurch was on
the coast; I thought it was more inland.
Anyways, the flight was short and smooth, which made us happy.
At the airport
in Christchurch, Josh and I followed behind Jeanette and Antony. I love being in airports, and just the
feeling you get there, more so after you have arrived to your destination and
the flying part is over. It was then
that I saw people again holding signs and then families and friends being
reunited. I got a huge lump in my throat
and my eyes welled up with tears. I
thought about how wonderful the day would be when we arrive back home in Texas
and see our parents and families waiting for us. I can cry just thinking about it right
now. I had to really fight back the
tears and push the thought away, because it was just so beautiful and
heartwarming and emotional to think about.
I already knew in my mind that I will definitely be crying when I see my
parents again and get to hug them, and my sister, brother-in-law, and nephews
Malachi and Noah, and Josh’s family as well.
What a happy day that will be!
We then all went
to the rental car counter at the airport, and got that all taken care of, and
headed out to the car we’d have for our time there. It was a very nice SUV, and I thought it
still had a new car smell. The engine ran
so quietly and smoothly, we could barely hear it running; a little different
from our car! Haha. Outside we noticed the air was clean and pure and the sun
was pretty warm too, not a cloud in the sky in Christchurch. Antony then drove us around and was our tour
guide. It was very interesting. I loved sitting back there with Josh and
listening to Antony’s stories. It was
relaxing and cool to be able to sit back and enjoy everything and take in new
sights. The landscape was very different
from Wellington; it was flat. It was
laid out more like cities we were used to, and almost felt like we were back in
Texas. It was kind of comforting and we
barely even noticed that we were on the opposite side of the road. Most of the houses we noticed also were made
of brick instead of wood like in Wellington, and the streets were wider as
well. We drove with the windows down,
which I really enjoy and I was glad at how peaceful I felt and that I hadn’t
been nervous on the flight either. We
were pretty hungry, so we stopped and ate lunch at a McCafe. After that, we did a bit more touring, where
Antony showed us the school he went to as a kid, which was neat to see. Along the way, we were seeing a few houses
that you could see some cracks in and that there was some earthquake damage,
and even a couple empty lots where houses used to stand. The most evidence, though, was downtown in
the CBD.
My mood instantly changed and I felt a heavy sadness and lump form in my throat again. There were a couple of handwritten cards and signs and flowers on the fence, which is always heartbreaking to see. Who left that card? And who did they lose? We walked down
the street that I know was once filled with cars and people and buses. The buildings on either side of us were
abandoned and broken; just empty shells.
It was like walking in a war zone.
I looked down one street that was barricaded off and paused there for a
while. There were many people around us
walking by, but sometimes there was a break in the crowd, and Jeanette said,
“Just listen.” Silence. Deadly, eerie silence. And then a few jackhammers and drilling of
the buildings in the background. Blinking, broken stoplights. Just gave you a
really bad feeling. Shops and businesses
once were thriving down those empty streets; people sat and drank their tea and
coffee and friends chatted. People once
were going to and fro, living their lives.
In an instant, that all changed.
Life was taken.
We kept on
walking, and at last reached the area that looked out onto the Cathedral. I remember passing by a couple of middle-aged
ladies, who were hugging each other and crying.
This building in a huge way represented Christchurch, of which, me, as
an outsider, will never fully understand, but can only imagine. It was their history. The beautiful Cathedral had been there since
around 1880. New Zealand is a new
country, and to have something that old built by the hands of man is pretty
remarkable and important. When looking
up Christchurch in travel books or online, that image is the first to pop
up. The stone architecture was used for
many buildings throughout Christchurch, and it gave the city an old-time,
European feel. It made me wonder the
thoughts and stories of all the people gathered in that cathedral square. All types of people…every race, young and
old, some from Christchurch, some travelers from the country and those from
abroad. But all gathered around to
witness the sight of this crumbling landmark.
It was beautiful standing there, even though most of the bell tower was
gone, being reduced to two-thirds of its original height, which was about 63
meters tall during its pre-earthquake state.
Most of its recognizable features, including the stained glass windows,
were shattered and broken. I found myself desperately wishing I had seen it
before the earthquake. For many there, this
was an icon, something they had seen and known their whole lives, and because
of its instability, danger, and ruin, it needed to be demolished. 
A few people
were gathered in groups, families and friends, talking and laughing and taking
pictures, while I noticed others stood alone, in silence, staring up at the
cathedral, wearing their sunglasses to hide the tears. There were no smiles on their faces. I felt sympathy for the people, imagining
what they have had to go through. All
the hundreds of aftershocks, and waiting to know whether they can move back
into their homes or not, losing family members or friends, and seeing their
city change in an instant, and now, over time as buildings were having to be
demolished. Those standing alone who
were crying, I wondered what their stories were. What were their memories? I imagined a woman crying because that is
where she married her handsome groom a number of years ago, and she cries as
she remembers how glorious and perfect everything was on her wedding day. The silent reverie filled inside as she
walked down the aisle of those great, magnificent walls in the rainbow filled
sanctuary created by the stained glass and looked at the smile on her future
husband’s face and tears in his eyes as he beheld his radiant bride.
And this had
been a place where people came to worship God.
It made me feel sad, and that God was sad too, and that he was
powerful. Josh said it made him think
how weak man really is, and how powerful God is. That building, a structure
made with stones by the hands of man, and that we as people put so much faith
in its strength, can be destroyed in mere seconds. This is not saying that God caused this to
happen on purpose of course, but that God made the earth, and the earth is
powerful and can do things we have no control of. For the earth to just rumble and move beneath
our feet shows how helpless, small, powerless, and insignificant we really
are. That can be a depressing thought, I
guess, but also awe-inspiring and humbling.
High-rises made of steel and metal that engineers designed and millions
of dollars spent on, can be gone in ten seconds flat. How dare we ever become arrogant and think
highly of ourselves, boasting of our intelligence, power, and money, because
when you really think about all of that, in the end, that don’t hold water to anything.
It was very
sorrowful, and I felt for all those people there and the pain of those who lost
loved ones. There was a man who I
thought was Saruman, because he was dressed as a wizard, in black. In fact, he is called The Wizard, and has
been known to stand and preach in the square there for many years. He was begging people to sign a petition to
save the cathedral. You could hear the
passion in his voice and see it in his eyes as he held his wooden staff and
called out to the crowd.
I was quite
ready to leave that area, and felt relieved when we were out of the red zone,
thankful that there hadn’t been an earthquake while we stood underneath those
unstable buildings. I wondered what
Antony was thinking, since he had grown up there, and also how Jeanette was
feeling as she and Antony had many memories together in this city and with
their kids as well.
We moved on to
other parts of the downtown area, to the shopping area where shops had been
converted from shipping containers and also into cafes. It was interesting to see how the city had to
be re-built and how they had improvised.
And then, I was delighted when we walked over to the river that runs
through the city. I had seen the river
in pictures before coming, about punting on the Avon River, and sighed at how
romantic that would be for Josh and I to sit in our little gondola as the man
rowed us down the gentle, peaceful river lined with white blossom trees. There was beauty that still remained despite
the devastation, and I loved seeing little moments of this throughout the
day. Teenagers sat on the grass having a
picnic along the river, and young kids fed the ducks as couples sat on the
benches admiring the view with their lover.
It was weird to see that, really; life and happiness, nature and the
sound of innocence was heard in the ducks’ quacking and in the children’s
laughter, bringing humor into the air as just a few steps away was the sound of
silence and destruction; of endings. But
here, beside the Avon River, was life beginning and continuing. Butterflies and birds fluttered around so
happily and peaceful. It was comforting
and reassuring to see and hear all these things.
We drove around
some more, and then Jeanette really wanted to take Josh and I to see an
important site and memorial. We parked
beside a bridge and walked down the sidewalk to something that really struck at
my heart. Standing out of the river’s
water was a sight that made my stomach turn; remnants of the steel girders that
once formed one of the Twin Towers. Firefighters
from New Zealand had traveled to New York City after those tragic events to
help, and therefore, New York City had given the beams as a thank you memorial
to Christchurch and New Zealand.
The metal was
rusted, and Josh and I could not believe the shape that it had become; this
steel metal that used to be strong had melted in the heat of that destructive,
horrible act of terrorism as the Twin Towers were hit and then collapsed to the
ground; it was now twisted out of shape like it had been a child’s piece of
clay. I stood there for a few moments
staring at those beams in front of me, and it broke my heart. It really did something to me inside, and the
images of that day flashed again before me.
To stand before these beams, to be so close and to touch them, it made
it all so real. I saw those people’s
faces, heard the screams, saw the terror and the pain. Thousands and thousands of miles away from
New York City, and years since that day, and standing before a piece of what
had once held the building together and that I watched fall in horror on the
television as I sat in my 10th grade Algebra class, shocked and
terrified of what more was to come, and seeing hundreds of lives being ended in
that moment. When I saw the marker that
said, September 11, 2001, I was thinking to myself, wait, what, really? 2001?
It seems like that happened in 2011, almost like it was yesterday, how could it
really have been 10 ½ years ago? I
remember the anger and confusion I had towards my algebra teacher that day when
she had us turn off the TV and go on to our algebra lesson; she seemed so cold
and indifferent. Maybe that was her
coping mechanism and maybe she was simply trying to protect us and herself, but
I felt like I needed comfort and reassurance, and my teacher to talk to me and
tell me everything was going to be okay, and maybe even to pray. But hey, we were in a public school; that
probably wasn’t looked upon as the PC thing to do then. However, I do remember later that day and I am
thankful that my choir teacher, Mr. Lane, talked about it and he prayed with
us. (May he rest in peace now, as he
lost a fight with cancer a couple years after I graduated from high
school. I still do and always will
remember the impact he had on my life.)
Anyways,
standing there just brought memories back to my mind, and I am sure every one
can remember where they were, who they were with, and the feelings they had
that fateful day. Tears were in my eyes
and I should have just cried because I was fighting the lump in my throat so
hard it hurt. The moment really impacted
me, that is for sure. It made me feel
sad; and angry. Angry at those who did
this. And it made me feel passionate, so
passionate for the one thing we and I take for granted each day; Life.
I looked at the cars driving by and the people walking on the street
differently. I wanted to just grab each
person I saw, look them in the eyes, and cry out, “You are precious! Your life is worth something! Your life is
valuable!” God loves each person we meet
on the street. I remember my preacher
Mike back in Midland would sometimes say in his lessons, “You have never looked
at a person in the eyes whose soul did not matter to God.” Wow.
In Christchurch that day, I was faced with two tragic events that had
happened. One in New Zealand; a natural
disaster that killed many people. It had
no remorse or care for what country they were from, age, sex, rich or poor, popular
or unpopular. It left behind people who
lost husbands, wives, fathers, mothers, brother, sisters, and friends. It was a natural event; not caused by any
other person. And then, September 11th,
in the country I hail from and am proud of; the United States of America, it
was no natural disaster, but the hands of man.
Terrorism. Hate. Allegiance to the radical beliefs. Life taking away another man’s life from
him. Or her life, or a child’s
life. That just doesn’t make sense to
me. How could anyone think that is good,
or the right thing to do? How could you
really be that stupid, to think killing is going to get you to your so-called
heaven? I don’t really care about their
reasons I guess, because there is no explanation or justification, and I know
it is also fanaticism, but standing there and just the pain I felt in seeing
those beams and knowing all the innocent lives lost, people who should be
living today, walking the streets, feeling the warm sun on their faces, hearing
the birds sing, little children laughing and playing, and holding the hands of
their loved one like I am able to do; it just made me feel angry. Made me want to find all those responsible,
not only them, but all those with hate and violence in their heart, who prey on
the innocent and kill, and yell at them.
Much good that would do, I know, but yell at them, nonetheless, to open
their eyes! Our lives are so short
anyways, as seen in the aftermath of an earthquake; it can instantly be taken
from us. Why not stop and just savor that
there is breath in your body? To live
for good; not evil? But I guess that is
the battle, the battle on earth…to go either to the light, or to the
darkness. To create evil and do ugly
things, or to see the beauty in everything.
To see that life really is beautiful.
There were lots
of thoughts in my head, as you can tell.
But I needed to think, and be reminded.
We drove on from there and to other areas affected by the earthquakes. I finally saw the ocean again, and the coast
was gorgeous. Christchurch really is a
unique city. We drove along the area
where we saw houses literally hanging off the edge, cut open, their insides
exposed. Quite scary! Many fancy, expensive looking and modern
houses were now destroyed and hanging on by a piece of wood or metal. It was unnerving driving down below and
looking up as the only protection between us and the cliffs were shipping
containers lining the road. It was also advised to not stop on that stretch of highway in case there was another earthquake. My calmness had been leaving me throughout the day, and I was feeling anxious and just not really safe.
We drove to a
pretty beachside suburb, and I saw many people drinking and eating on the
patios of the cafes. I love seeing that,
and it was good to witness people still happy and carrying on. Then we drove under the mountain to get to
the other side, to the suburb of Lyttleton, through the longest tunnel in New
Zealand. I laughed when we were told
that it was the longest tunnel, and then I believed it. I was so ready to get out of that thing! It was funny, especially when I later told my
parents about our trip, because they were glad I was telling them everything
AFTER the fact. We were driving through
a tunnel underneath a mountain in a quake-ridden city, and through a “dormant”
volcano! My dad said, “Wow, you were
living in a regular ‘ole James Bond movie!”
Haha. That’s what it felt like. Antony took the four of us out to this
picturesque place on the other side of the mountain. It overlooked the water and the marina in the
distance, but it was so still and quiet and peaceful. I could even smell a fire burning mixed with
the scent of pine trees, reminding me of vacations to the mountains of Ruidoso
with my family growing up. I love the
smell of firewood burning; it’s so cozy and inviting. We spent a while there taking pictures and
videos. The sun was starting to set and
the lighting was perfect. Then we went
to a lookout overlooking the city. That
is my favorite time of the day, when the sun is setting. It was cool to see the city from up there,
with the ocean in the far distance. There
was also a fancy building made of stones that looked like a castle you would
find in Europe, where the Raines said weddings were once held. Unfortunately, it had been closed due to
earthquake damage. I really wanted to go
inside, though. I love castles. I am a
romantic at heart, if you haven’t noticed that already, haha.
After that, we
went back to the city. As we were
heading downtown again, I started to feel really weird; just overwhelmed with a
bad feeling. We went to another area and
drove around to look more at the areas and buildings that had significant
damage and empty lots and crumbling structures.
I hadn’t felt that anxious when we were actually walking beneath the buildings
earlier in the day, maybe because the sun was going down now and night was
coming, and most of the people had left the downtown area. We stopped in a parking lot and looked at the
buildings and we really heard the silence this time. I started feeling a little nauseous and
almost like it was getting harder to breathe; like a claustrophobic feeling and
a panic like you needed to get out of there, and quick. I looked at Josh and he seemed to be feeling
uneasy, too. I guess I could have spoken
up, but I didn’t want to make a big scene and sometimes if attention is drawn
to you when you’re not feeling that well, then when it’s known it just seems to
make it worse, haha. I also knew Antony
and Jeanette really wanted to see all this.
I don’t know if I was having a mini panic attack or a continuous one off
and on, but I certainly felt anxious; perhaps it was a delayed reaction to all
that we had just seen and of course being afraid if another big earthquake were
to strike.
Thankfully, we
weren’t there for too long, as we were all noticing how starving we were. We drove to a pizza place called Spagalimis
(aka “Spags”) in the downtown district, though not surrounded by too many big
buildings, I still felt uneasy until we walked inside and after we had sat down
for a while. Antony had recommended the
pizza place because he had been there before and said how delicious it was;
apparently it was quite a popular joint.
He said it has withstood many earthquakes, so we felt okay to venture in. The mood was low-key with red candles and the
decorations were chic and modern. It was
packed too, so the livelihood and busyness of the place was very
welcoming. For entrée (appetizer) we had
wedges with sour cream and sweet chili sauce.
That is popular here, and a perfect combination! We inhaled those. And then the pizza was amazing! It was so greasy, but that makes it good!
Josh and I shared a big one and it was gone in no time. We enjoyed our time there together.
At last, after a
long day, it was time to head to their friend’s house where we were staying for
the night. We were told it was out in
the country, and man, was it out in the country! We drove for quite a long time. I actually felt glad of this, as we would be
away from the city and tall buildings. As
we were driving out there, just listening to Antony’s music, I think there was
some sort of opera song playing, though I can’t remember what it was, but I
just had another moment. I’ve always
loved sitting in the back seat of a car on long road trips and looking out the
window and just thinking. My mind races
and my thoughts flow like a river. Sometimes
I feel like slapping myself and saying, “Stop thinking!” Because I think about
so many things, haha, which, well, gives me a lot to think about. But I was still feeling slightly nervous (and
I don’t really like the dark either, I’ve decided, especially when you are in a
new place) and hoping I wouldn’t get sick from all that pizza. I was thinking about everything, all that we
had seen that day, and the sadness of it, and then, we came into a long
clearing of open land. I liked that the
landscape was flat, and I hadn’t been used to that since living in
Wellington. Being so far out in the country, away from the
city lights, I looked up and gasped and then smiled. The stars were so bright and brilliant, and
there were a million of them. They were
beautiful. Looking up at the stars can
really put things into focus, and I felt God’s presence again so strongly. It was so comforting, and I almost felt like
he was talking to me or that was His gift to me that I needed to see in that
moment. A reminder that He is still
there. He is the Creator, the maker of
the heavens and earth. That He is a God
of love; that he loves me. And that; “There is light, a
beauty up there that no shadow can touch”, as said by Sam in The
Return of the King, as he and Frodo are in the land of evil, Mordor, and
Sam catches a glimpse of a white star as a clearing in the clouds appears in
the black, night sky.
We finally
reached our destination, and were greeted warmly and enthusiastically by our
hosts and the friends of Jeanette and Antony.
We were also greeted by a Lassie dog named Cassie, which made Josh and I
both happy. She barked at us and was
finicky and suspicious of these strangers, but slowly warmed up. Inside their house felt so warm and inviting
and I loved the decorations. It felt
like a country home, rustic and sweet all at the same time. The house was really big too, and felt warm
and like it had been built properly and insulated to protect us from the cold,
night air. The kitchen had a big, long
island, and I found myself wanting to have my own cooking show in that
kitchen. It also had a wood burning
stove and a massive chandelier. I felt
very cozy and comfortable there and the family we were staying with was so
sweet and very friendly. The daughter
was around our age and we chatted with her and her boyfriend a little bit; it
was nice to meet new people our age and they had a desire for traveling as well. We all sat in the living room and talked for
a long time, as these friends were together again and catching up. I really enjoyed it; the couple was very
lively and it was interesting hearing their stories and experience with the
earthquake and the questions they had for Josh in regards to their claims. We learned one of those major earthquakes
struck very close to their home, but they were lucky in that they experienced
no damage, just a few cracks in the garage and a couple things falling down from
shelves. Another reassuring thought to
both of us, and once again, knowing that we were far from the city.
Josh and I were
getting quite heavy eyed, so we at last bowed out, said good night, and shuffled
off to bed. We loved our room, it was so
nice and big and inviting, and the mattress heavenly compared to ours at our
flat back home! The best thing was
looking out our double glazed window that overlooked their farm, and seeing a
sight that made both of us laugh. We
squinted our eyes through the darkness, but we could faintly see the silhouettes
of white creatures in the backyard.
Alpacas! Haha! I’m not sure if I’ve ever seen one in real
life, if so I don’t recall. Jeanette and
Antony had told us this beforehand, which made us excited, that these people
owned an alpaca farm! So knowing that
was what we were seeing, some of them standing up and some laying down, in the
distance was quite funny. I wanted to go
out there and pet them. But, that would
have to wait till the morning. We
snuggled up in what seemed like the most comfortable, luxurious bed I’ve ever
slept on, like sleeping on a cloud. We
could hear the others down the hall still up talking and laughing, which brought
comfort to me and helped me fall fast asleep.
The next
morning, when I woke up, I jumped out of bed and rushed over to the window to
see the alpacas. And then I started
laughing! Josh got up and we just
giggled at how cute they were, and funny-looking. We even saw a couple sheep. After getting ready, we ate breakfast with
everyone in the kitchen; I had homemade muesli.
I haven’t been a big fan of the healthy mixture, but this was actually
delicious! I could have eaten three
bowls, as it had fresh coconut flakes and cinnamon, mmmm! After drinking
coffee, we hurried out to go see the alpacas up close. I almost got to pet one that was on the other
side of the fence and he barely got his head out as he was reaching for grass
on our side. Them suckers are fast
moving their long necks! Fortunately, our
hostess took us to the front yard and through a gate so we could be inside with
the alpacas. That was so neat to
watch. She and her husband are
Alpaca-whisperers. They knew each one by
name, and she walked up to one and was talking sweetly to it, almost like baby
talk. You could see how much they loved
their animals. I finally got to pet one;
it was soft, like petting carpet. It was
so weird petting their long, skinny necks and how they would move it fast as
they were a little cautious of us. They
are at our height though, so that was comical having those big black eyes just
staring at you behind their shaggy white fur partially covering their
eyes. I laughed and said they reminded
me of Mrs. Lamb chops, but Josh didn’t know what I was talking about,
haha. I used to watch that show when I
was little, and they really reminded me of that sock puppet. The owners said that Alpacas are very curious
creatures, and you could tell this as they all gathered around and stared at us
silently, chewing their grass. It was
kind of creepy sometimes, haha. I
wondered what they were thinking; they probably think we are the funny-looking
ones! That was probably the highlight of
our trip; Josh and I both love animals, and we both wanted one after seeing
that. Josh was saying how he wants to
get his parents one for their farm in Texas.
After that, we
grabbed some take-away food and sat on the grass in a park overlooking the
ocean. That was so nice, and the weather
was perfect again. We even talked about
traveling, and Antony talked about how once you have travel within you, it
becomes infectious, and it’s hard to let go of, it just becomes a part of
you. Jeanette said it was good for Josh
and I to do this while we can and don’t have kids, which we agreed with and is
why we are doing this now. Antony said
there’s no excuse not to travel, just take our kids with us! I guess we’ve kind of thought of that before,
but that was encouraging and sounded like a good idea for the future. Because whenever I think of us having children,
which we hope to wait a while, Lord-willing, but it seems like it’s all over
once you have them, haha. But I guess
that wouldn’t necessarily have to be true, though I find it hard to imagine
carrying around a baby traveling the world.
With our experiences, I’ve learned it’s sometimes been hard enough
dealing with myself! And a husband, to
boot! Haha.
Then Josh and I
walked out on the pier into the ocean.
That was the longest pier I’ve ever been on. We saw a few surfers and many kids making
sand castles along the shore. The pier
was filled with fishermen and we smiled as we saw little kids excited when a
fish was caught or were carrying a bucket full of crabs. That was one of my favorite moments, walking
hand-in-hand with my husband Josh. I
felt so in love with him, and glad to be with him, and just talking and taking
everything in together. We felt like we
were back in Galveston, Texas, or just reminded of our trip we took there a
couple months after we got married and remembered how much fun we had on that 4th
of July weekend. We’ve laughed and
reminisced about that weekend several times, both saying how that was one of
our favorite memories together, and just ever!
In little ‘ole Galveston, Texas where the water is brown and ugly and
the air hot and humid. We had a great
time, though, because we were in love, and it was so romantic just being
together and swimming in the ocean, which we’d never done before as a
couple. Always the little things in life
and in love that make you the happiest.
We joined back
with Antony and Jeanette, and we all got an ice cream. Then we drove around and saw more
sights. Antony showed us the house he
grew up in and he got out of the car to go look at it. It was abandoned and pretty run-down. I wondered what he was thinking and thought
about how I have felt when I’ve gone back and driven by the houses I grew up
in. We also drove by the place where
Antony and Jeanette got married, so that was really neat to see and I am sure
very special for them.
Then, we drove
through the neighborhoods that were in the red zone. That was eerie and sad to see. Houses that used to be lined with cars and
children playing in the street and families eating at the dinner table were now
empty. Grass was growing up tall around
the windows and it was like looking at a ghetto. These had once been really nice, middle class
family homes, and now they were cracked and broken and neglected with
liquefaction spread about the lawns. We saw a few houses, especially this one
that had sunk in the ground nearly two feet.
We even paused and Antony turned off the car and music and we
listened. Silence. You could only hear the cicadas buzzing. I thought how sad that would be to have to
leave your home with all your memories.
Some people hadn’t even been able to go back inside and get their
belongings because it was just too dangerous.
I would hate to go back to my old neighborhoods where I have such happy
memories and to see the entire street abandoned and grown over, with life there
no more. It was like a ghost town. Even going back and seeing my old houses,
that part doesn’t seem right as it is, because I’ve looked at those houses and
they are not the same, because we are not there, and the decorations and
personal touches my mom and Dad made to it were gone; it was now someone else
living there and it just did not look the same.
The same flowers weren’t there or the new owners had painted the house a
different color or something like that.
So I couldn’t imagine how hard that would be to see your neighborhood in
that condition. Many people were in the
white zone in which they had no answers yet, whether or not their home or land
was safe to return to or rebuild on.
Those were the ones in limbo, as they have been calling it.
Josh was trying
to explain the technical categories of the zonings of Christchurch, as the people
in the white zone are most disturbed and frustrated understandably, for they do
not know their future. He has been
assisting many people who are at their wit’s end as where to go from here, but
as this is New Zealand’s worst natural disaster in the history of the country,
it is hard to determine. I am so proud
of my husband!
By the time we
left Christchurch and back to the airport, Josh and I felt quite ready to come
back to Wellington. It had been a very
eye-opening and emotional trip, but we enjoyed our time with Jeanette and
Antony and getting to see new things. We
love going to places we’ve never been. I
sat by the window again on our way back, and it was so cool to see us
approaching the North Island and I was amazed at the beauty still of this
country. We were even able to see our
flat from the plane window. It was that
weird feeling again and kind of an oxy-moron; we were happy and relieved to be
back home to Wellington, our temporary home; it’s not truly our home nor does
it completely feel like it is. It was
just us two coming back, not to be greeted by our families like if we were
going back home to Texas. I don’t know
if any of that makes sense, haha, it’s kind of hard to explain, but it was good
to be back in Wellington and this has thus far been our favorite place in New
Zealand, and glad to be where we have become more familiar with. There was that feeling, however, like I said,
landing at the airport, and I even felt that different times when we were in
Christchurch, where I really was feeling the miles; the distance between us and
home. I guess the homesickness comes in
waves like the ocean outside our window.
My City
Where have the
young children gone?
Where are they
who used to play
In my streets?
I cannot hear
their laughter
Or see them
climbing my trees.
I hear not the
call of the mother
The children
groaning they must come to bed.
Where
have they gone?
Their
laughter is only a memory
For
now, all I hear is silence.
The
homes are now all abandoned,
That
once were filled with families.
The
lights are off
I
see not the flickering flames
Of
candlelight in the window.
The
windows stare back at me
Now,
blankly, and empty.
Where
have the young men and maidens gone?
Lovers
who used to smile sweetly
And
utter sighs of love
As
they drifted timelessly and gracefully
Down
the river.
And
the lovers sitting ‘neath the weeping willows
Whispering
secrets and promises of forever.
Where
have they gone?
Their
love is only a memory
For
now, all I see is despair.
Where
is the Bride?
Dressed
purely in blinding, alabaster white
Cheeks
rosy with love and excitement
And
with tears in her eyes
As
she enters my Great Cathedral?
Where
is the Groom
Eagerly
awaiting the sight of his beloved?
To
hold her hand
And
to smile sweetly at her
As
they both utter sighs of love
And
confess their promises of forever?
Where
have they gone?
The
rose petals scattered
Down
the aisle,
Are
only a memory,
For
now, dust replaces their beauty.
Why
is my cathedral empty?
Where
have the stones gone?
Why
are they broken
And
lying in a rubble
‘Neath
the shattered stained glass?
Where
are the people
Who
used to worship the God above?
Where
have they gone?
Their
singing voices praising God
Are
only a memory,
For
now, all I hear is the soft cry
Of
a pigeon echoing a solemn and somber hymn.
Soon,
every stone will be torn down
And
my cathedral will be no more.
But
then, the long night ends,
Dawn
breaks, and the light of the sun
Illuminates
the city.
They
have come.
Yes,
they have been here all along;
People
who come together,
And
with their bare hands
And
passion beating in their hearts,
They
pick up the stones and,
One
by one,
Begin
to rebuild my city.
The
birds are singing,
Children
are laughing again,
And
I see the young men and maidens,
In
love and sitting by my river.
Now,
I see that for this place,
My
dear city of Christchurch,
There
is only a future.
And,
if one were to listen closely
They
can still hear
The
tolling of the bell,
Faintly,
but surely,
Resounding
a message
Of
Hope.
