You may or may not have heard about the recent quakes in New Zealand. I
don’t really know if they made international papers – no one died. It’s the queerest thing to experience.
You’re sitting there at your desk on the 21st
floor that stares out at the harbour while glaring at the ceiling as those on
the floor above are playing ping pong. Does that sound weird? Well in New Zealand
multi-floor buildings (newer buildings) are designed with earthquakes in mind
and the building sways in high winds, when the lifts zoom up and down, and when
those on the floor above decide to play an enthusiastic game of table tennis.
don’t really know if they made international papers – no one died. It’s the queerest thing to experience.
You’re sitting there at your desk on the 21st
floor that stares out at the harbour while glaring at the ceiling as those on
the floor above are playing ping pong. Does that sound weird? Well in New Zealand
multi-floor buildings (newer buildings) are designed with earthquakes in mind
and the building sways in high winds, when the lifts zoom up and down, and when
those on the floor above decide to play an enthusiastic game of table tennis.
The vibrations running through your desk are distracting and
a tad unnerving, but nothing you’re not used to. Then it hits.
a tad unnerving, but nothing you’re not used to. Then it hits.
The floor, the entire room jolts and (to quote Jennifer
Lawrence) you shriek a very bad word; a very bad word being loudly yelped by
people in the rooms behind and across from you. The shaking picks up and you
dive under your desk, fingers gripping the carpet.
Lawrence) you shriek a very bad word; a very bad word being loudly yelped by
people in the rooms behind and across from you. The shaking picks up and you
dive under your desk, fingers gripping the carpet.
It stops.
Just like that everything seems startling clear. Your heart
pounds and you give a nervous laugh. People come charging around. A work mate
is sobbing and you try to soothe her.
pounds and you give a nervous laugh. People come charging around. A work mate
is sobbing and you try to soothe her.
The room starts to sway again.
Everyone freezes eyes wide and bodies tense.
The crying work mate gives another horrified sob and you
guide her under the table. Your cellphone starts ringing. It’s your partner.
guide her under the table. Your cellphone starts ringing. It’s your partner.
‘All okay-‘ the line cuts off as the network overloads.
Can you find New Zealand on the map?
After the quake Friday afternoon we got the okay to evacuate
and I made it home just after five. Everyone checked in and all was well. And
that’s when you start to realise just how weird it is to live with the
constant, real threat of the ground beneath you jolting.
and I made it home just after five. Everyone checked in and all was well. And
that’s when you start to realise just how weird it is to live with the
constant, real threat of the ground beneath you jolting.
It’s short, shocking, and over minutes after it starts.
Without any real damage or visible results, you’re left
almost feeling like you imagined it. Everything is normal. Yet you know, at any
given second it could start again. You go to the supermarket, as are lots of
others, and in the back of your mind you consider options.
almost feeling like you imagined it. Everything is normal. Yet you know, at any
given second it could start again. You go to the supermarket, as are lots of
others, and in the back of your mind you consider options.
Can I squeeze under that shelving? Is it stable at the end
of the aisle?
of the aisle?
As we pulled out of the supermarket Glenn suddenly stopped
the car. All the other cars around us had stopped too and I realised then that
we were shaking. Another quake.
the car. All the other cars around us had stopped too and I realised then that
we were shaking. Another quake.
There’s been too many aftershocks to count and they’re still
going. While we made the bed last night I heard the drawers creaking. A second
later and the room starts shaking again. As I type this I’m sitting at my desk
with my hair smothered in henna and wrapped in plastic wrap (yes, I look
a-m-a-z-i-n-g) and hoping that we don’t get a big quake before I get to wash
this out (only five hours to go…). Work has txted to say the building’s been
checked and is sound so we’ll be opening as normal on Monday.
going. While we made the bed last night I heard the drawers creaking. A second
later and the room starts shaking again. As I type this I’m sitting at my desk
with my hair smothered in henna and wrapped in plastic wrap (yes, I look
a-m-a-z-i-n-g) and hoping that we don’t get a big quake before I get to wash
this out (only five hours to go…). Work has txted to say the building’s been
checked and is sound so we’ll be opening as normal on Monday.
Providing of course, there isn’t another decent quake before
then *grin*
then *grin*
The earth moves for us….
I grew up in Southern California, where we had earthquake drills in school, so I know what it's like.
Luckily, I was never in a high-rise when one occurred.
But you know what? I'd rather take my chance with an occassional shake than the yearly threat of hurricanes and tornadoes! Guess I should have thought of that before we settled in Ohio, huh? Oh well…
*lol* yeah, I was thinking of it in comparision to those, though we get both here too – actually tornadoes are a bit of a novelty to us here in NZ which really isn't a good thing. When we should be running and hiding we're too busy ohhing and ahhing at the pretty remarkable sight (give us a few more decades to wise up to it ;p). Hurricanes at least you have a fair idea are coming.