zeborah: Zebra with stripes shaking (earthquake)
[personal profile] zeborah
Posting here because Blogger won't let me comment where it should be. Full history:

"They started bringing that joy back mere weeks, maybe days after the quakes."

My sister and I made sandcastles out of the liquefaction the morning after February. We'd barely slept after a night of three quakes a minute (the bloody Port Hills kept reflecting them back on us) and the world had brought us sand, so. It made a few neighbours smile: well worth the time.

One thing I was thinking the other day — walking past the chalkboard on Colombo and (Tuam?) and an empty block which is mostly carpark except for the footprint of one shop taped off, with "No parking" sprayed in pink on the aggregate, and signposted "GapFiller coming soon" — is that Christchurch is making an artform of the temporary. Sandcastles, and yarnbombs, and Easter bunnies made from milk bottles atop road cones. We might have four seasons in a day and we sure don't have a clue what the roadworks are going to do tomorrow morning, but we also never know where a GapFiller might pop up next.

There's a tremendous beauty in that. And a pain underneath it that for me makes the beauty all the sharper. And this beauty is everywhere in Christchurch these days, like and in the wildflowers blooming in the piles of rubble.

Date: 2013-11-11 10:00 am (UTC)
karenhealey: Rainbow Dash overcome with excitement (My Little Pony) (Default)
From: [personal profile] karenhealey
Those GapFillers, and the beflowered road cones (thank you, SVA) and the Pallet Pavilion and the wall art, oh so much wall art. Christchurch is beautiful.

Date: 2013-11-11 02:02 pm (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
All cities are temporary (except maybe Pompeii). Sometimes it shows more.

Date: 2013-11-11 02:03 pm (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
Er, Mary Anne in Kentucky, thumbtyping.

Date: 2013-11-11 04:30 pm (UTC)
green_knight: (WTF?)
From: [personal profile] green_knight
Oh, the (wo)manpain. So she was depressed, unable to get a job, stuck in a place where she didn't know anyone and quite probably without the means of getting to know many people (because she relied on her boyfriend for transport and the best times to meet new folks were also the rare time she got to spend with her boyfriend). Yeah, sucks. But the adult response to that is not 'oh woe was me, [new city] is horrible' but 'I was depressed and could see no way forward. That sucked.'

And she's homesick for the little things she never thought she'd miss - the food that every supermarket has, the assumptions she shares with people at home and doesn't in another country. I get that. In Japan, I often had fried chicken for breakfast, because that was the most sensible street food I could find, and I was ok with that - travel in 'exotic' [sorry] country, everything is different here. But when I moved to Britain from Germany, semi-skimmed milk had a different fat percentage and every morning my breakfast cereal [from the same international company to exactly the same formula] tasted just ever so slightly different, and drove home that I wasn't in Kansas, Toto. Making friends when you don't know how this making friends thing works in your new place. (When I first came to Britain, everybody seemed to be meeting in pubs. I don't drink, so while the beginnings of evenings where fine, the endings were not.)

But what got to me most was the hypocrisy of saying 'everybody employs their best friends' and then saying 'my friend got me a job in a literary agency'. So it's ok when *you* get a job out of it, but not ok when others do?

This is an infuriating article, and I'm not even living in Christchurch.


zeborah: Map of New Zealand with a zebra salient (Default)

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