Helen Lowe's Blog, page 304

Another Silent Witness & True Heroes

Another Silent Witness:

On Friday 18, as part of the Christchurch Memorial Service the following video of the cordoned-off central area of Christchurch was played. The footage is eerie, haunting … the only sound that of sirens and the wind blowing through deserted streets and buildings brought to rubble. In the words of the Bruce Springsteen song, Christchurch is "My Hometown"—and this video clip is a more potent silent witness than any I could manage with my little camera in the 'burbs:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qbXJJN...

True Heroes

In Christchurch we have had to deal with the desruction caused by a major earthquake. In Japan, a level 9 earthquake was followed by a massive tsunami—which in its turn did serious damage to the Fukushima nuclear power station. The still unresolved struggle to get the situation there under control has absorbed our attention over the past week, but  a tv news clip on the evening of March 18 particularly caught mine. It showed a ceremony for the firemen who had volunteered to go to Fukushima and help with the containment effort.

Only that morning, I had listened to a radio interview where a nuclear power expert had said that the 50 or so personnel still remaining at Fukushima were basically already "dead men."  I have often thought that we bandy the word "hero" around too lightly these days—any citizen who simply does their duty is termed a "hero." But looking at the men who had volunteered to go to Fukushima, I thought: "This is true heroism. They must know the great risk they now run of dying as a direct result of volunteering, regardless of whether the situation at Fukushima is brought under control or not. And know, too, that the benefit of their individual sacrifice is exclusively for the wider society—yet still they volunteer. In this moment, these men—whoever they are now or whatever they have been in the past—are true heroes."

A Much-Needed Day Off

Yesterday, as indicated in my Silent Witness post, I didn't go the National Christchurch Memorial ceremony in Hagley Park. But in the end I did give myself the day off. March 18 was declared a special public holiday so everyone here in Christchurch had the day off, including most/all of the people doing infrastructure and service restoration work around the city.  Very well-deserved, too, in their case; no question about that.

In the end I decided that calling time out for one day at least was a really good idea: no tidy up work, no books, no workshop prep. Just time out to sit in the sun and recharge the batteries—and of course as soon as I did I felt absolutely knackered, as you always do when you've been running simply to stand still—and then do, finally, stop. So in terms of calling a  city-wide "time-out", maybe yesterday was absolutely the right thing to do.

Another question people have been asking me is whether I'll be staying in town for Sunday 20th, given so-called "moon man" Ken Ring's prediction that with the moon at perigee Christchurch is in line for another/even more massive quake. So I'm nailing my colours to the mast and saying that absolutely I will be here.  I wouldn't dream of leaving, in fact. Firstly, because I don't believe the moon being at perigee has an equatorial snowball's chance of causing a major earthquake. A major earthquake may happen, but that certainly won't be why. (Massive tectonic forces at play is my pick on that one.) Secondly, because I regard predictions of this kind as being in the realm of scaremongering, given we've only just suffered a second major earthquake, and scaremongering makes me very cross. It's really not what we need right now. Thirdly, because every single millenial-style prophecy of doom that I have ever heard has come to absolutely nothing.  So there you go. I may yet have to eat humble pie on this one, but I'll certainly be right here in Christchurch on March 20. After all, you should never pass up an opportunity to put yourself in a position where you may have to eat humble pie!

So what did I do while I was sitting in the sun, doing that serious relaxing? (Or 're-raxing' as one of my Japanese aikido instrcutors used to say. And yes, I did feel sad just writing the word 'Japan'.)  I read Adrian Tchaikovsky's Dragonfly Falling, the second in his Shadows of the Apt series.  I liked the first book, The Empire of Black and Gold well enough, but my sister—a keen reader—has assured me that they go from strength to strength and I'll admit that I did enjoy Dragonfly Falling a lot, so am looking forward to getting hold of the third-in-series soon.

Silent Witness

Not quite my area, but still ... a friend's car in the central city, Feb 22

Today, March 18 is National Christchurch Memorial Day, with a service planned for mid-day in Hagley Park, close to the city centre. A great many dignatories will be there, but I won't be. A memorial service—less than a month on and with all the missing not yet found and the dead not yet named—seems an odd thing. Odder, that we might all just down tools and head off to the park for a picnic and a spot of music. I've no objection to others going if it means something to them and they think it will help, but my main emotion is that this is something happening 'over there' that bears no relationship to me at all.

This used to be my gym

I did go for a bit of a walk though yesterday, expanding the boundaries of my post-earthquake perimeter a little further, and thought I would share a few of the shots I took with you, by way of a "silent witness."

This was a friend's neighbour's home

Nothing too dramtic or grand, but this is my memorial.

—

Fitzgerald Ave, a main road on the boundary of the central city

And again ...

The footpath

The bridge

Yvonne de Fresne, A Personal Tribute

NZ writer Yvonne de Fresne died on Sunday, March 13 at the age of 81. Beatties Bookblog carried a notice yesterday, taken from the University of Victoria International Institute of Modern Letters' newsletter. The NZ Book Council website contains a full account of Yvonne de Fresne's contribution to NZ literature.

I never met Yvonne de Fresne in person or heard her speak. I have read two of her books: The Book of Ester and the linked short story collection The Bear from the North.

The latter in particular seized my imagination through the vivid persona of Astrid Westergaard, a New Zealand girl of Danish cultural heritage growing up in the Manawatu. I was caught by the powerful way in which de Fresne wove the cultural and family myths of Astrid's Danish background into the Manawatu landscape, weaving a magical spell of immigration and belonging. I enjoyed The Book of Ester as well, but The Bear from the North is one of the works of contemporary New Zealand  fiction that has most profoundly captured my imagination.

Just Doing It

On Monday, in the context of earthquakes here and in Japan in particular, I said that it was important to be "practical and realistic about what you can actually do. Then do it."

So what have  I been "just doing?"

Women's History Month Guest Post:

As I mentioned Sunday, I had written a guest post for the celebration of Women's History Month on Gillian Polack's blog and on Monday evening Gillian posted it, here. I know it's Wednesday now, but you can still rock on over and have a look, read some of the other great posts and comment if you want to.

The Gathering of the Lost Edit Resumes

Mainly though, I have been working on two projects: the first is the edit of The Gathering of the Lost (The Wall of Night Book Two) which was derailed by the September 22 earthquake. I am now very much committed to getting it back on track and since the beginning of last week have gotten through a further 115 pages—only 16% of the total manuscript perhaps, but encouraging progress for me given there's still an awful lot of earthquake aftermath-related interruptions. Today, for example, I received the following calls/knocks on my door:

— a follow-up call from the EQC (NZ's Earthquake Commission, a kind of public insurer)

— a call from an engineer

— a call from a journalist

— an inspection by personnel involved with ground remediation

— an inspection by the insurer's foreman overseeing urgent building remedial works (they're going to shore up the chimney–yay!)

— a visit by a Salvation Army welfare team assessing need

Which probably gives you an inkling why getting through 115 pages in a week seems like good progress to me, especially when two of those days (the weekend) were almost fully given over to the silt clearing and other section cleanup acitivities mentioned in Monday's post—activities that are pretty much 'situation normal' at present.

Isn't it great though that so much earthquake recovery and related activity is going on? I am definitely not complaining—more explaining why stopping speeding bullets, leaping tall buildings in a single bound and completing the Gathering edit with one hand tied behind my back just aren't possible right now. :-\

NZ Book Month: The Dan Davin Foundation:

The other big project I'm working on is the series of four workshops I'll be doing in the Southland—Wakatipu region with Year 12 & 13 High School students, as a guest of The Dan Davin Literary Foundation for NZ Book Month. I'm calling the workshops "Get Writing: Steering the Fiction Craft" and the focus is on the elements of effective writing (which are universal, regardless of genre), world building, and also writing practice, i.e. establishing effective work habits and getting writing out there. The workshop presentation is pretty much complete now and I am just finishing off the exercises and handouts, which means only the one public presentation left to prepare. It is quite a lot of work, but NZ Book Month is a big deal and I really like the way The Dan Davin Literary Foundation is actively trying to develop the next generation of NZ writers.

So that's what I'm doing right now.

How about you—got any exciting projects on the go or is it business as usual?

Tuesday Poem: Haiku—"after the funeral"

after the funeral

— freeing a bee

from the spider's web

.

(c) Helen Lowe

.

Highly Commended, NZ Poetry Society International Haiku Competition, 2009

Published in moments in the whirlwind, Ed. Barbara Strang, NZ Poetry Society anthology, 2009

—

To read the featured poem on the Tuesday Poem Blog—and link to other Tuesday Poets posting around NZ and the world—either click here or on the Quill icon in the sidebar.

Earthquake Report, 14 March

Tomorrow, 15 March it will be three weeks exactly since the Feburary 22nd earthquake that caused so much havoc here in Christchurch, but over this past weekend I think all our thoughts have been with Japan. In terms of reports from an (only) moderately damaged 'burb, the difficulties of our day-to-day aftermath here are dwarfed by comparison with the (now confirmed as) Level 9 earthquake, the shocking force of the tsunami that washed across Sendai and the surrounding countryside, and the subsequent nuclear emergency at the Fukushima power plant. (In itself a compelling argument for why a country like NZ should never go down the nuclear power route.)

The magnitude of the Japanese disaster, coming so soon after the destruction here—itself not small—left me feeling emotionally numb. Intellectually I have been shocked and horrified, easily imagining how terrible the situation there will be for survivors and authorities struggling to cope, but emotionally it is almost too terrible to take in. I have been very aware, too, that there is literally nothing I can do to help, beyond to give money to the international relief effort. So over the past weekend I found myself focusing on what I could do here, however small. This included digging out the stormwater drain along the street again, a job I did exactly a week ago, but which the intervening rain had silted up again. Something, however mundane, that needed to be done—and that I could do.

The thing about being out on the street of course, is that people see you and stop to chat—usually about their own earthquake day-to-day. One elderly neighbour said that he had just felt the need to take it a bit easier lately, and I seconded that idea as I had been concerned that he was working much too hard in the immediate aftermath. Another spoke of feeling depressed, because for everything she fixed, she only seemed to uncover new damage. Her house, unfortunately, is badly damaged: the timber part of the house is visibly off its concrete foundation. Someone else was worried about her flatmate's cat which had disappeared after the earthquake and so far not returned. For others, the job of recovery just seems too big and they feel lost, unsure where to begin every day.

You're probably picking up here that getting the drains dug out takes a little longer than just the digging part.:) Talking and connecting with people is definitely important, but sometimes it can also be as deeply wearying as the hard physical work. I am not certain why this is, but suspect it has to do with the emotional cost that one can see people carrying. So it is important to have "time out" and recharge the batteries, in order to keep going for the long haul—and also to be practical and realistic about what you can actually do. Then do it.

Some Fun / Good Stuff

Sometimes, in amongst all the darkness and disaster, it just feels incredibly important to celebrate some of the fun and/or good stuff happening. So here's a few things going on right now:

I currently have a guest post, The Grand Symbiosis: Fantasy & History featured on the Orbit blog. (Orbit is my UK/AU/NZ publisher and The Heir of Night, of course, was released in the UK on March 3.)

March is Women's History Month and over on Even in a little thing, Gillian Polack has been running a Women's History guest post series, all by women writers. Some fascinating posts have already featured and I'm looking forward to what the rest of the month brings. (I have contributed a post myself and will let you know when that runs.)

Another exciting project that is on the way has been put together by SpecFicNZ core group members, Cassie Hart and Anna Caro as a fundraiser for the Christchurch earthquake. Tales for Canterbury will be "an anthology of short stories loosely themed around survival, hope and the future. All profits of this anthology will be donated to the Red Cross Earthquake Appeal, or another registered charity aimed at aiding those in need in Canterbury." According to Cassie and Anna, the purpose of the anthology is two-fold: to help financially, but also  to provide entertainment and alleviation in a time of crisis. They hope the anthology's words will help make a difference.

I hope so, too—and because supporting and rebuilding Christchurch after the earthquake is very important to me as a resident and a writer, I am delighted to be able to contribute a short story, The Fountain, to Tales for Canterbury.  You can go directly to the website here, read the list of contributors here, and also listen to Cassie's interview with Lynn Freeman on Radio New Zealand's Arts on Sunday programme.

And I can only say "kudos" to Cassie and Anna for the idea and making it happen.

Japanese Earthquake

No 'quake report from Christchurch today, given the magnitude of the devastation caused by the Japanese earthquake and tsunami, including massive aftershocks and 'collateral' damage such as fires and damage to the nuclear reactor at Fukushima.

The earthquake has been reported here as variously 8.4 and 8.9 magnitude, but either way it's huge and my thoughts are with the people of Japan today and those affected by tsunami damage in other areas (although I understand this has not eventuated to the extent feared.)

Earthquake Report, Day 17 (March 10)

Had another aftershock that 'registered' this evening—i.e. one of 12 so far today but this one was 4.5 and a real little shaker: Nice. (Not.)

I think I said the other day that around now, ie day 17 post quake and into week 3 (so short a time, but it feels like forever)  is where the really hard part starts. The initial adrenalin rush is over and the immediate disaster relief tasks have largely been done—in my case nothing more significant than picking up broken stuff and shovelling all that sludge, but the CD authorities are also progressively reducing the cordon around the central city. Yet the roads remain like a cross between slalom courses and old river beds, there's still no sewer (or stormwater, fun when the winter rains come) and there's damage to the house that could be dangerous—but the queue to get stuff done is city sized.

Partly, I know that I will normalise to the situation because survival demands it, but another part of me simply felt unreasonably angry today. I just wanted it all to stop and everything to go back to being "nice" and "normal" again. My rational mind—of course!—sneered and said, "Well, you know that's not going to happen, not for a long, long time!" But my emotional self still felt angry and unreasonable anyway.

I realise that this is probably a perfectly normal reaction and the important thing may be to acknowledge that there is going to be (ok, is already!) an emotional reaction (apparently the extreme tiredness is another element of that) and try to be "aware", rather than being ruled by the emotional rollercoaster.  Especially since citywide 'earthquake rage' is not what Christchurch needs right now: we still need every citizen to do their best to keep it together! A bit like those World War 2 posters—which does make me shake my head and wonder how the people who survived that, the civilians as well as the soldiers, managed the transition back from the extreme and prolonged stress of war to a peacetime society.

Another important step is to 'make it normal' as much as possible, which is why I am trying to get back into a routine with my writing and talking about fun stuff here on the blog, as I did yesterday.  So I stuck with the writing again here today and am working on my Book Month workshops as well—but basically every time I stop and look around there's no way of avoiding the hard reality, which is that nothing's in the least bit normal and isn't going to be any time soon. And I just have to deal with that.

Flowers from Zireaux

There are  always bright notes though and today's was receiving this wonderful, colourful bunch of flowers from my fellow Tuesday Poem blog poet, Zireaux.  I love the colours and it's nice to have a spot of bright in amongst all that 'not normal.'  So thank you, Zireaux.