te tangata te tangata te tangata

a recent photo of my daughter, one of my favourite pictures of her

You realise what is really important when something major happens like an earthquake. We had an earthquake in September and since then have dealt with over 4000 aftershocks, but we were so proud, as if it was a mark of our cleverness, that there were no fatalities (as it happened at 4.35am). They have been tapering off, and apart from the odd jolt, we thought the worst was behind us. (At primary school I was told there was no such word as "worst", but it has been widely used in these parts lately.)

I was chatting with my daughter on gmail chat about some text books she needs for the year ahead. She is a high school student, but is lucky enough to be doing some university papers at Canterbury. And I thank God for that. Because the high school she attends is right in the middle of the city, which got the worst of the earthquake. There have been deaths, many of them. I wonder about people I work with occasionally in buildings in the zone.

There was no power, no water.

But anyway, back to the moment - it was just as we were discussing textbooks and where best to buy them from, at about 10 to 1, the quake struck. I immediately closed the laptop, grabbed the dog and stood in the doorway. Then there was another and another. My shaking hand did my best to text my daughter (on my badly designed Palm Treo with its shiny keys, impossible to tap out a message on as the stylus slips off each curved key and of course, far too small for even my thin fingers. Oh and the stylus that came with the phone which can be used for writing with on the screen? That's long gone, as to be expected when it fits in a hole on the underside of the phone where, naturally, it slips out and gets lost - I've lost the original plus the four replacements I have purchased, but that is another story.) So the frustration of my not very smart phone added to the stress, just had to voice that - WARNING ! DON'T BUY A PALM TREO PRO (obsolete now anyway) AS IT WILL ADD TO YOUR STRESS IN MOMENTS LIKE THESE. But rant aside, I finally did get a text out and managed to get it sent just before the phones went down, and I got a reply from my daughter saying it was terrifying but she was uninjured. I had a brief phone call, she'd found a friend and they were sticking together. She estimated it would take her 3 hours or so to walk home from the uni, (40 mins away by bus.) From then any texts I sent were unsent, with the dreaded red message: Your text was unable to be sent. Try again?

The plan we discussed after the last earthquake was that if one of us was caught away from home, they had to walk home and straight home. We live 8 minutes by bicycle from the centre of Christchurch, the Square, so we're never that far from anywhere. We don't own a car (which would have been useless anyway as the town was gridlocked as everyone tried to get out of the CBD). At around 3 o'clock (2 hours after the quake), the dog and I walked to the end of the street and beyond, then back to the other street my daughter could also have taken, hoping we'd meet her. Neighbours were outside, in the street, one had seen a crushed body and had had to take several back streets and wild detours to find his way home. Another neighbour had abandoned his car and walked. Another neighbour had sprinted straight home from the inner city. I wasn't the only one walking up and down the street waiting for a loved one.

By 4.30 I was starting to get frantic. I was still getting the red message to all of my outgoing texts Your text was unable to be sent. Try again? Worse, there were no incoming texts from my daughter to say where she was. If only she could tell me what route she was taking, me and the dog could walk up to meet her. Then I got a dreaded text: "I am going to stay at Hayley's. Love you so so much." What? Et tu, Brute? I need you here! Remember our earthquake plan? I really lost it then. Mainly because I didn't even know where this Hayley lived. Would we spend the night apart when our town is falling down around us? Would I see my daughter again? I tried phoning, texting for more information. Your text was unable to be sent. Try again?

I was beside myself. I hated not knowing where she was, what was going on. I tried ringing the school to see if they knew who this Hayley was, her full name, address, phone number. The school's phone had been disconnected, the dial tone indicated. I rang the police. I gave them her name. They said they couldn't help. I kind of knew that though.

Then I remembered Hayley's surname from seeing it on my daughter's facebook page. I looked it up in the phonebook, and miraculously the first lady I called was her grandmother. By then I was a blubbering wreck, desperate for information. She gave me Hayley's father's number. Apparently they were in Hagley Park, where newly homeless and other disoriented people were congregating.

Then a call came through from Felicity, my daughter. She was in the house of an elderly lady, she was unsure where, with some other students. She said she had a lot to tell me. She wasn't keen to come home by herself. Understandably she wanted to stick with the group, as we were still having aftershocks, she had seen a building collapse, happened upon a dead body, etc. But she said she had met some really kind people. That one phone call from her reassured me, and I snuggled up with the dog thinking that although we would be spending the night apart, she would call me when she could, and she was safe.

As I said we don't have a car, but when I got a call from her in Sumner, at her friend's mother's house, feeling safe but wanting to come home, I didn't hesitate to ask my neighbour for his help. He didn't hesitate to say yes. And so we set out to Sumner, not over the Ferrymead bridge, which is destroyed, but over the back way, via Heathcote. It was then that I came face to face with the state of the town. Roads buckled, cracked, liquifaction bubbling, our beautiful rivers grey and full and overflowing onto the road. The heritage mansions in Riverlaw Terrace near my house, huge houses on land enough for 10 houses, crumbled, twisted, unredeemable. Many a time I felt like saying to my neighbour, it's too dangerous, let's go home, when we came to a large crack in the road but couldn't bring myself to utter the words, I was just so desperate to retrieve my daughter. I feel that I owe my neighbour a huge debt, besides filling his car with petrol when the petrol stations reopen. He has no idea, or perhaps he does, how much it means to me to have my daughter back.

And so we finally got to where my daughter was. By then it was getting dark, and it was 7 hours since our online chat had been interrupted by the quake. What a great feeling to be all together. Our house is strong, and there is no damage, but there was smashed glass all over the floor. Kombucha brewing, olive oil, vinegar, cacao powder. I put on my super heavy duty gardening gloves and got it all cleaned up as best I could so that we could at least get into the kitchen. Not that we have running water or anything, but we do have stored water, which we are rationing. We won't be washing for a bit, so am not feeling particularly glamourous - huh, the least of my worries. I am grateful for a garden full of vegetables. The neighbours will find mysterious bags of fresh veges strung over their door handles. Raw sweetcorn anyone?

The police rang to check we were ok and Felicity was back. They crossed her name off the missing persons list. So happy she is with me. We are so lucky. At about 9pm the power came on.

I worry for people I know who work and live in the CBD, in particular, an organisation I have been working with over these past few months on the second floor of a building near Latimer Square. I hope with all my ability that they're safe. I hope the rescuers can recover people from debris. Buildings ruined. I don't care about buildings or things though.

An ancient Maori proverb says, ‘te tangata, te tangata, te tangata’ in answer to the question, What is the most important thing? "It is the people, it is the people, it is the people."