On Christchurch

I was in the shower when Matt came in to tell me that there had been another earthquake in Christchurch and that 65 people had been killed. My response was "What?! You're joking!", to which Matt replied: "Why would I joke about something like that?". Good point.

As we're currently tv-less, Matt had picked up the report during his morning perusal of the internet. I'm really not sure what to say about it. I have never been in an earthquake, and despite living in Wellington for a couple of years - which was generally regarded as the biggest quake risk in the country - I've never felt so much as a tremor. We did the drills when I was at school, so in theory I know to take cover under the desk or door frame, but I've never put them to the test.

We were home for Christmas in 2007 when a relatively powerful earthquake hit Gisborne. I was in Auckland and happened to call Matt at the exact point the quake hit - the line wouldn't connect. Matt called about ten minutes later and told me what had happened. His mum was quite shaken but Matt was elated - I guess that's the adrenalin. It was a big shake that caused a lot of damage to the township's older buildings, but no one was hurt.

Christchurch is a different beast entirely. The only reference we have in New Zealand's recent history is an earthquake that hit Napier and Hastings in 1931. It  flattened the city centre, which was rebuilt almost entirely in Art Deco style - now a draw for tourists and Deco-philes.

As the dead are recovered from the rubble and the initial shock has started to subside, talk has turned to Christchurch's future and Napier is frequently referenced for inspiration - ten years after the disaster, it was regarded as a phoenix risen from the ashes.

The scale of the devastation beyond the lives lost - the destruction of buildings, businesses and infrastructure - is still being tallied. The response has been impressive, not just from the rescue organisations but from locals, New Zealanders throughout the country and abroad, and the global community.

I was talking with friends about how sometimes terrible situations bring out the best in people and bring communities closer together. One friend said that after the London bombings, the first time he caught the tube at Bayswater, he saw the same people he did every morning waiting on the platform, but that day they did something they'd never done before - they spoke to each other. And now, more than five years later, they still speak to each other.

I'm guessing that people in Christchurch already spoke to each other, but the community will forever be bound by this shared experience - it is now part of their identity, their history and their future.