So apparently it takes a disaster to get me back writing on here. And even then it has taken almost 3 weeks to write (has it only been that long? I actually had to stop there and check that because it felt like it had been at least a month).

So, I guess time to immortalise my account of what happened on February 22nd 2011. The day that Christchurch changed forever.

I was on placement at Burwood Primary, and had just gone out to the field with my supervising teacher, Cathy to do duty. It was the second day of my placement and I was absolutely loving it. The kids were great, Cathy was great and I had a feeling it was going to be a great term! I was also really looking forward to going to camp with them. So here we were chatting away to each other on the field, and I think I was starting to talk about the series of Oral Language lessons that I was going to start teaching as of the next day.

However, I never got the chance, as the earth literally split apart before my very eyes (about 10 metres away), and I dropped to the ground and ushered the few kids that were out there (lunch had only just begun). It was 12.51pm, and I knew I had just experienced a big big earthquake, but had of course absolutely no idea how much it would change the city. At that point though, I wasn't thinking about any of that. I had switched to carer mode and consoled terrified crying children for the next couple of hours, before thinking "I should really check on my family". A lot of people that were in a building that day, said the thing that they will remember forever was the noise. Being outside, I didn't get the noise, but I will never froget those frightened children and what they were saying. It was just too mature. Two kids' words will always stay with me. Amongst the concern for pets' safety and wanting their Mum or Dad, one wee girl in my class said "I've already lost my dad, I don't want to lose my Mum as well!". It was at moments like that when I almost lost my strong exterior and bowed down to the tears that I knew were in me somewhere. Somehow though, I found the strength for the kids.

The other one was also a girl from my class, and I was accompanying over to the toilet, and I asked her how she was doing. She said "I have to be strong for the little ones". I held her hand and said "yes but you don't have to be strong in front of me. That's what I'm here for." She broke down into tears and I put my arm around her.

Slowly, parents started picking up kids. Our area was badly damaged and so I heard accounts of parents having had to walk from the other side of town to get there. Accounts of the severity were also starting to creep in and I overheard a guy saying "possible multiple fatalities...the central city is really bad."

I think that's when my own thoughts starting creeping in. Cathy went back to the classroom (an absolute mess but still standing) and retrieved my bag with my phone in it so I could contact my family. Some of my them worked in the CBD. I started to get a bit scared. The phone system was understandably overloaded but I managed to get a message to and from my Mum and sister, so I knew at least that they were ok.

At four o'clock, the numbers of children had started to dwindle, and so Cathy said that I could go home. Our farewell was strange, as we didn't know whether I would be coming back, although I really wanted to. Having gone through something like that with the kids, I felt a strange loyalty and desire to return, even though it had only been one and a half days. Walking through the school, I saw how much of a mess it was. Ashphalt was buckled and cracked everywhere you looked and emotion was starting to get me. I just had to hold it in long enough to get to the car. I was on the other side of the city and I had no idea of the state of the roads. All I knew was that everyone on them was trying to get home or to their family. Or out of the city altogether (although i'm not sure if the exodus had begun by that point.)

I had been calm and collected for the kids. As soon as I got into the car, I started sobbing, big huge sobs that I couldn't control. The drive was slow, a crawl speed, and everywhere I saw destruction; buildings down, holes in the road, huge areas of liquefaction and waterlogged streets. I was listening to the radio so I started to get a little idea of the extent. The scariest part was after seeing these huge holes in the road (and cars stuck in them) I had to drive along a road that was completely flooded. I had no idea what I was driving over or through, and to make it worse, my car was almost completely out of petrol and I was worried that I would get stuck one way or the other. Slowly, I made it to my flat. There was a cordon over my street, so I explained that I lived just up there and he let me through. My reaction when I got home was strange. The place was a mess. Everything was on the floor. It looked wrecked. One of my flatmates had been home for a while and had cleaned up a little, but it still looked pretty bad when I got there. He left for his girlfriend's house, and I was on my own. There was no power or water so I couldn't watch the news. I had a half open pack of biscuits and I sat there, shivering in a duvet robotically eating them. My other flatmate came home, and I explained that I couldn't be in the flat; that I needed to get to my parents' house. I now knew that the death toll was likely to be pretty large and people had been crushed in the city. My Dad and brother worked in town. I needed to know that they were ok. I had sent off a text message to Mum but hadn't heard back. I had no petrol in the car, and really did not think that I could make it over there. He suggested that I borrow his car to get there. I'm so glad that he told me to take it and make the decision for me. I really don't think that I could have done it on my own.

Driving across town on the motorway, the sights changed. On the other side of the city, it had been apparent devastation, but here you could barely tell that anything had happened. Walking up my parents' driveway, I was so anxious to see them, that the moment of disappointment when I reached the door handle and found it locked was huge. I stood there for a few seconds angry and upset that they weren't there when I needed them the most, but then I got it together and realised that there was only one place they could be. I walked the two minutes to my brother's house, and sighed a huge sigh of relief when I saw them all there safe and sound. I broke down a little when I got there, and my brother gave me a huge hug (a lovely thing as he is not usually a huggy type). My Dad said "she needs a wine" which was very true and I got to play with my little nephew which lifted all our spirits. We stayed there because they had a gas barbecue. We were just finishing off our dinner, when the power came back on. The next stage had begun.

I call this stage, watching scenes of destruction on TV while not quite being able to comprehend that this is the same city that you live in. I was glued to the TV for the next few days. Scenes of utter chaos in the centre city, video captured by people in the central city. My experience had been traumatic for sure, but nothing compared with being in the central city, with buildings coming down, dust and rubble everywhere. I realised then just how lucky I had been that I hadn't been in the city.

Colombo St before quake
Colombo St after quake
City before quake
City after quake
Cathedral before quake
Cathedral after quake
A few days of that, and I just needed to help! My flat still had no power or water, but my parents' had both, so I stayed there and helped out in a welfare centre nearby. Just doing something was keeping me and my mind largely occupied. Unless you were allowed to be in the city centre it is still completely off limits. Apparently 75% of the CBD will be destroyed. There are still large areas without power, water and sewage, 3 weeks on. The roads are cut up and closed everywhere you look. The most devastating part of course is the loss of life. So far 166 and possibly more to come.

I have survivor guilt. My flat has surfaced largely unscathed. I don't know any of the people identified as part of the death toll (although I know people that do) and I heave a huge sigh of relief each time I read that list and don't recognise any of the names. I haven't lost my job (although it is in the cordon so it is off limits at the moment).

I was so looking forward to going back to Burwood school, and seeing the kids again. Unfortunately that was not to be as it is pretty damaged. Grad school has swapped schools so I get the most out of the placement. I understand their reasoning, for sure. It makes sense. I am sad though that I won't get the chance to see the kids again. I start Monday.

Right now, I am in Whangaparoa (an hour north of Auckland) staying with my sister to get away from the aftershocks. I have found myself getting more and more anxious and jittery with each aftershock. I felt so silly to be complaining about anything when I was so lucky. But really, I wasn't coping too well. I didn't quite realise it, but helping others was just a way of keeping my own feelings at bay. I'm ok, and feel lucky, but the enormity of losing my city and the grief over the deaths of those unfortunate ones (even though I don't know them) coupled with the aftershocks mean that I needed to get away. I'm glad I did. I feeling rested, and should be able to cope with Christchurch when I return on Sunday.

As for the future. I'm in Christchurch til the end of the year at least, with my course. But I think I will stay. A large part of my family is there and I do love my city. At this point we just have to stay positive, and as this photo that I found says, "We will rebuild".