6.3 my ass.

I was at work on Tuesday afternoon, on the 8th floor of my building on Cathedral Square. I was writing an e-mail when suddenly everything started shaking. I'm used to this - we still get aftershocks all the time. I waited for it to stop. It didn't stop. Bookcases started falling over. I dove under my desk and held on.

Gareth was at home with Quinn. He had just put him down for his afternoon nap and was tucking into his lunch. Everything started shaking. Gareth tried to get to Quinn's room but was thrown around and couldn't get there before the shaking stopped.

When I came out from under my desk, every single shelving unit in our office was on its side, files everywhere. People were screaming and wailing. I looked out the window and saw that the top of the Cathedral was missing. The fire alarm was going off. Everyone was looking around in a daze. Someone said we need to get out. Someone else said no, we need to stay.

Gareth got to Quinn and saw that the bookshelf in his room had fallen over, hitting the edge of his cot, which had also moved over about a foot. Somehow, baby Quinn was still sleeping. Gareth picked him up.

There were three of us left in the office. While we had stood there in a stupor, everyone else had evacuated! We suddenly realised we were the last three there and headed for the stairwell. On our way down, we stepped over the broken glass from windows that had blown out. Eight stories is a lot of stairs. I ran down as fast as I could and tried very hard not to think about what would happen if an aftershock hit right now.

Gareth heard our neighbour calling for him and went outside with Quinn. Other neighbours were wobbling out of their houses, getting their bearings. Windows were broken, stone cladding had been shaken loose.

I got to the bottom of the stairwell (finally!) and ran out into the street. There was broken glass everywhere. Someone was shouting at me but it took a second to register. It was one of my co-workers and she was saying, "Lindsay GET AWAY FROM THE BUILDING!" Ahh, right, yes. I jogged over to her and joined everyone from my work. Lots of hugging, crying, frantic dialling of cell phones that would not connect. I kind of just stood there and stared. Someone said I looked really pale.

Gareth helped the neighbour get her car keys out of her house (she didn't want to go in alone, get stuck under falling debris, and never be found again). Then he spoke with the neighbours on the other side, and eventually joined a group that was forming across the street. They were setting up camp. It was some time before he was able to retrieve his phone from the mess in the kitchen and find that I had been trying to call and text him. He had no idea the earthquake had been as big as it was or caused so much damage until he saw my text, "the top of the cathedral fell off."

I was walking home with 2 of my workmates who also live on the south side of town. I needed to get to Gareth and Quinn. My workmate's 13 year old had gotten out of school early and she had no idea where he was. It was a very nervous time. We walked quickly. We saw liquifaction and rubble and rips in the ground where the earth had broken open.

I thought about taking photos with my phone, but couldn't do it. It was weird - I knew I'd want to remember this, and that I'd want to show Gareth what I was seeing, but I could not snap any photos. It would have been like taking a photo of a corpse or something. Too wrong. I took no photos.

I finally got a text from Gareth saying he and Quinn were ok. It didn't make my need to see them any less urgent though.

It took almost 2 hours to walk home I think, although I'm not really sure. When I had about a kilometre to go, it occurred to me that I could hitchhike. I stuck my thumb out and someone stopped, like, instantly. She drove me up the road a ways until she had to turn, and I got out and walked the rest of the way.

Gareth and Quinn were in the neighbours' yard. They were putting a tent up. Our family hug at that moment ranks in the top 5 of All Time Best Hugs.

The house looked pretty bad.

How bad do things have to move to shake sliding doors out of their frame?

We're going to have to buy some new glasses.

We have a lot of cracks like these.

These bricks should be on our house.

This is not good.

You can break our photo frame, but you can't break our love!!

One thing I've taken from this is that the Richter Scale is total bullshit. When I heard on the radio that this one was a 6.3, I thought it was a mistake. If the September earthquake was a 7.1, this one should have been an 8 or more. There was so much more damage. People died. Gareth points out that this earthquake was much more shallow and much closer to town than the September one, and that is why 6.3 was so much more tragic than 7.1.

If I had gone for a walk at lunchtime or if Gareth had come to town a little later for Quinn's lunchtime feed, things might have ended very differently for us. When we finally got power again, we were very touched to find how many friends had sent us messages on facebook and that friends we haven't even met yet had posted on our blog. Thank you for your kind words and thoughts. We are doing fine.

Blog update

Freshening things up around here...

We decided that the plain green header could use some livening up. So we added a lovely photo that I took from the top of the Port Hills, looking over Lyttelton Harbour on a sunny morning. Ahh, love that view. That's better than plain green, I'd say.

I've also updated the links on the side of the page. The longer we're here, the more great things we're finding. So I thought we should link you to them. Lindreth: keeping you linked.

We just discovered yesterday that Blogger keeps track of 'stats' for the blog, and we can see how many people have visited, where they've come from, and what they're reading. Yeah, that's right, we're watching you, loyal reader from Denmark. (Halløj!)

We heard this really hilarious/awesome song yesterday and I really, really wanted to upload a sound file to the blog to share it with you. So I did some research and discovered that it is possible to do this, but it just seemed too complicated. Maybe it's not complicated at all, and maybe I'm just a bit feeble-minded. But the bottom line is there will be no sound uploads at this time.

So do this: go to iTunes and spend 99 cents to download Coco Solid's 'Girl From Where?' We think it's worth at least this much to hear this kiwi woman rap, "the best rapper in the world's a girl from New Zealand." Also this line: "I told you I'm the boss, man I'm Angela and Tony." There just aren't enough Who's the Boss? references in music these days, don't you agree?

All things bloggy

Been quiet on the blog front for the last few weeks... let me catch you up.

1. Picnics.

The weather has been so nice, we've headed out for a picnic or two. We're picnicking kind of people. I suppose we probably had the picnicking spirit inside of us all along, but it seems it didn't really bubble to the surface until we moved to New Zealand. We love a picnic. Got time for that.

2. Taxation frustration.

As a U.S. citizen, I'm supposed to lodge a federal tax return no matter where I live and no matter that I've earned no money in the United States. Although foreign income is subject to U.S. taxation, it won't matter for us because our income does not reach that level that requires sharing with Uncle Sam. That's what I gather from reading the very riveting "Publication 54 (2010)" (link to IRS website). But the information available on the IRS website is incredibly dense and difficult to wade through, so it's entirely possible that I've misunderstood a key point.

Even though we won't owe any tax (I think), I'm obliged to file anyway (I think). As a former green-card-holder, Gareth has no such obligation. He technically abandoned his legal resident status once he was out of the country for 1 year.

Last year we were very keen to file a tax return because we were expecting a big refund. We had worked only the first three months of 2009, and were entitled to refunds of virtually all the tax that had been withheld. So that was nice.

For 2010, I received one late payment from my former employer in the form of a retirement account payout. The feds kept $750 of it, and we think we should be getting that back. So we're kind of keen to file again. It seems like such a pain this time around though. Maybe it seemed easier to me last year because Gareth took care of it. Now I'm in charge (how did this happen?!) and feeling rather daunted by the whole thing. It doesn't help that the IRS website contains so much information that you could just hold your finger on the scroll down button for an hour and not get through it all. And I'm not talking about the whole website; I'm just talking about the page(s) relating to U.S. citizens living abroad. Insane. There is a form I'm supposed to file called TD F 90-22.1 "Report of Foreign Bank and Financial Accounts." Seriously. How many forms does the IRS publish that they have to call one of them TD F 90-22.1?!

You can understand my frustration. This segues nicely to our next topic:

3. Beer.

You know what's really yummy? Three Boys IPA. We wish this stuff did not cost $7.50 a bottle. Because it's delicious. And it's brewed locally. Like really, really locally - less than a kilometre from our house.

Gareth is enjoying one right now. It's his little reward for running 50K this morning. Go Gareth, it's your birthday.

If you would like to do something nice for us, you can send us some of this beer.

4. He's off!

Big news on the parenting front: our little man is crawling! There must be very few things cuter than a little baby bum crab-walking across the grass, or the living room carpet, or anywhere really. So. Freaking. Cute. If it is even possible, we adore him even more.

Pigeon Bay

This weekend we took the little man on his first overnight camping trip. Just in case it all went pear-shaped, we stayed fairly close to home. Just an hour and fifteen minutes' drive from Christchurch is Pigeon Bay, on the Banks Peninsula.

Pigeon Bay is right at the top in the 12 o'clock position.

There is virtually no information online about the campground at Pigeon Bay. We found a couple of blog posts by people who had visited, and not much else. All we knew before going was that there was in fact a campground there, that it charged $8 per site at one point in the past, and that there were toilets there.

The weather forecast was iffy - gale force winds predicted for saturday night. But no need to worry, Gareth said. We'll be sheltered in the bay! Ok, let's go!

We pulled in to the campground and did a drive round to check it out. What we saw was: caravan, caravan, caravan, caravan. Almost every campsite had a caravan parked in it! And these caravans were not passing through. Most had clearly been parked for a long time and would not be moving for the foreseeable future. Several had decking built up out front. One had a satellite dish. A few had "additions" built on in the form of canvas tenting. I peeked inside one and saw a fridge in there.

Kiwis take their camping very seriously.

We found a spot in between two caravans that did not appear to be occupied this weekend. We, ... er, Gareth pitched our tent.

I have tried to be positive about our camping experiences in New Zealand but the truth is that I have been a bit disappointed. Before we moved here, I imagined camping here would involve untouched wilderness with very few people nearby. So far, it's been quite the opposite in our experience. The campgrounds we've been to have been really developed with flush toilets, kitchens, and showers. Tents, campervans, and caravans are all generally parked up in one field, side by side. It's really not a wilderness experience so much as an outdoor experience... with many indoor things within reach.

To be fair, most of the people we see camping in these situations seem to be set up for long term holidaying. These people aren't just getting out for a night or two of fresh air - they often seem positioned to stay for the whole season. So you can't really blame them for wanting some of the comforts of home with them.

I'm sure the kind of camping I crave can be found in New Zealand. But maybe that kind of camping is really not practical with a 7-month baby in tow.

So Pigeon Bay's campground was ok. The sites were small and close together, with neighbors right on top of each other. It wasn't too bad though since most people were not actually there - they had just left their caravans there. There was a playground and a toilet block.

The really nice thing about the campground was that it was right on the bay. Our campsite was on water's edge. That part was really nice.

Pigeon Bay

Kicking back at camp

And it would have been even better if the wind hadn't picked up. You may note that the car is parked between our tent and the bay. This was strategic - just in case the winds were as strong as predicted, the car would give us some shelter. I should probably mention that this was Gareth's cunning plan. If it had been up to me, I would have put the tent right on the water's edge so that we could look out the tent window and see the beautiful bay. But that's me, putting the view before trivial things like shelter.

The best news was that Quinn went to sleep fairly easily in his travelcot in the tent. This meant we could sit back and enjoy the sunset with a bottle of sauvignon blanc.

Then the winds kicked in. Think Dorothy's house spiraling through the Kansas sky. That's where we thought our tent was headed - Oz. We laid awake all night listening the the THWAP THWAP THWAP of the fly against the tent. Miraculously, the tent stayed moored to the ground (maybe because Gareth had thought to park the car where he did!). Even more miraculously, Quinn slept through it. I guess it's easy to sleep when you're not worried about blowing away.

After a refreshing 25 minutes of sleep, it was time to get up. The wind was still blowing. Too windy to go for the walk along the bay as we had planned. Too windy even to set up the stove and boil some water for tea. Forget it, we said. We packed up and headed home.

Kind of a bummer. But at least we know that Quinn can sleep in the tent (at least, during a wind storm...) which will mean more camping for this little family.

EQC has been!

It's been over 4 months now since our little earthquake. We lodged our claim with EQC (the Earthquake Commission) just a day or two after the main quake. At the time, we just had cracks in the interior walls, some cracks in the house cladding, and a cracked window. When asked, we said our damage was "minor" as opposed to "moderate" or worse.

But then 4 days later, on Wednesday the 8th, a big aftershock hit and knocked the stone cladding off our garage wall. There have been thousands of aftershocks since then and our damage seems to be getting a little bit worse with each one. We keep finding new cracks and asking each other, "was that there before?" Window frames are separating, new hairline cracks are appearing between the stones on the outside of the house. And it hasn't stopped - there was another big aftershock on Boxing Day which was followed by a whole buncha smaller aftershocks.

We've heard virtually nothing from EQC since lodging our claim. We know they're working though. We see them driving around in their Toyota Corollas, wearing their fluorescent yellow vests. (Why do they where fluorescent vests? We have no idea. But they all do.) They travel in pairs, like Mormon missionaries, wearing their vests, driving their Corollas, assessing the damage. So we know they're out there working. They just hadn't yet seen fit to make it to our house.

We hemmed and hawed about calling EQC to update our claim from "minor" to "moderate". Surely losing a wall qualifies as more than minor damage, right? We're not necessarily in a hurry to get the house fixed up, but sooner would be better than later, if we were given the choice. We were finally convinced to call and update the claim when some friends visited last week and said "definitely" we should do it. Well then. We would do it.

So I called EQC's hotline last week and explained the situation. I felt kind of stupid calling 4 months after the damage had been done, but she didn't seem to think it was strange at all. She just asked if we would be home through January 17th. Yes, yes one of us will be home. She then gave me an e-mail address and said to write this person, tell them about your damage, and tell them you're home and available for an inspection by January 17th. She said someone would come inspect our house by January 17th. Wow, ok. That was easy. Glad I called!

A couple days later, having had no response to my e-mail, I started to suspect that the woman on the phone had just been fobbing me off. But then on Saturday, Jeff called. I imagine that Jeff is always greeted eagerly and happily when he makes these calls. "Hello, this is Jeff from EQC, I'm calling to arrange an inspection." That's great! Thank you! "Are you available on Monday at 10 a.m.?" Yes! Of course we are! We'll be here! "It will be close to 10, right around 10, is that ok?" Yes, yes! Don't worry about it! We'll see you when you get here! Looking forward to it!!

The Corolla pulled up at 10:45 this morning. Out came two men in yellow fluorescent vests. I was actually at work but Gareth was ready and waiting to greet them, proof of insurance in hand.

They spent quite a lot of time going room to room. Gareth was very impressed with how thorough they were. And generous! Our bedroom has one small crack in the paint above the patio doors - neither of us had even noticed it. But EQC says they will pay for the whole room to be repainted. Nice.

In the end, we're getting new cladding and repairs to broken cladding. Paint and underlying paper will be stripped in the lounge, dining room, front hall, bedroom hallway, our room, and the spare room, and all will be repainted. Separated window sills will be sealed and repainted. A new window installed in the conservatory. And they're even going to paint the garage!

Gareth tried to score us a new bathroom by telling the assessors that our bathroom was beautiful and modern before the earthquake, but they weren't buying it. Apparently, earthquakes don't ever send bathroom decor back to 1972.

The way they're working it is this: if your damage is valued at less than $10,000, they'll just write you a check and you can have the repairs done yourself. If it's more than $10,000 but less than $100,000, repairs will be managed by their hired contractor who is handling all repairs. If your damage is valued at more than $100,000, then your insurance company has to be involved because they will be on the hook for the excess above $100,000.

Our assessors put us in the middle category: more than $10,000 but less than $100,000.

They were direct with us on this next point: we will be waiting a long time. It could be one or 2 years. This is no big surprise, as there is one contractor handling tens of thousands of repairs. (sidenote: it's a good time to be a builder in Christchurch!) Even if they hire every subcontractor in town, it's going to take some time. So we'll wait.

On the plus side, maybe by the time the contractor gets to us, we will have saved enough to renovate our bathroom, and we can get the whole house done in one go.

Walk to Godley Head

We took a walk around Godley Head today. The weather at home was cloudy and looking like possible rain, but halfway through our walk we had the summer sun beating down on us. This again taught me a lesson I should have learned by now: always wear a hat! Even if it's cloudy!! thankfully, I had smothered myself in SPF30 before we left...

This area is just so gorgeous. We could spend every day walking around the port hills and looking down into the different bays. It seems every time we see that view, one or both of us will exclaim, "I love living here." If our move to Christchurch were a marriage, we are definitely still in the newlywed stage.

We started out at Taylor's Mistake, a cute little beach we had visited before. We set out on the coastal track which leads to the Godley Head carpark.

Near the start of the track

Old baches at Boulder Bay

Sheep at Godley Head

I'm not sure how long I can continue to blame pregnancy and childbirth for my weakness, but Quinn's only 7 months old and still breastfeeding, so I consider that it's still fair play. So, this walk was really hard for me. I blame pregnancy and childbirth. Gareth had a horrible night's sleep and seems to be coming down with Man Flu, and he was carrying Quinn on his back, but still had an easier time of it than I did. Of course, it was just the uphill parts that were hard. The downhill parts were cruisy.

An uphill part: "c'mon Linds. Keep up."

We made a loop of it by coming back via the summit track, which was sign-posted from the carpark. I had hoped that the carpark would be the highpoint and that it would be downhill back to the beach, but no luck. There was more uphill. But then there was flat track and then down hill. And it was all gorgeous.

Looking down from where we just came

If you are the kind of person who likes to walk barefoot, we would not recommend walking this particular trail barefooted. Because you will step on sheep poo. Lots and lots of sheep poo.

Lyttelton Harbour

Back at Taylor's Mistake

The DOC signs said the walk to Godley Head would take 90 minutes, and that the walk back along the summit track to Taylor's Mistake would also take 90 minutes, but we did the whole thing in 2 hours. This shows once again that DOC's walking time estimates generally only apply to the most crippled person in your group.

Boxing day

Christmas was mayhem ...

With our niece and nephew visiting, we had three children under 4 in the house. It's like Toys 'R' Us exploded in our living room.

But now we get to celebrate Boxing Day, aka December 26th. In Christchurch, the place to be on Boxing Day is, evidently, Hagley Park. We headed there along with the rest of the city, their coolers and their picnic blankets.

Christchurch has a picnic

The park was full of families playing and picnicking. It was really a beautiful sight. There certainly are some benefits to having christmas in the summertime.

Hagley Park has a paddling pool which was just chocka full of screaming toddlers. Our niece and nephew joined in. Quinn had a wee paddle, but is still a bit too small for this particular kind of fun.

But then the water fun ended abruptly when this man came out and set up his sign:

We watched as he put on his hip-high waders and walked the length of the paddle pool with his net, looking for poos.

Happy christmas!