Welcome to the Neighbourhood

In 15 seconds on February 22 lives were changed and ended. Courage was born and things were never to be the same. For the families from Christchurch who sought refuge in the Bay of Plenty, terror still rages within.

Three weeks on from the 6.3-magnitude earthquake that struck Canterbury on February 22, Kirsten Clark is suffering severe anxiety. She is safe in Tauranga but she doesn't feel it.
On a sun-drenched porch, she puffs on a cigarette in one hand, and with the other flicks away hot tears.
She's in Bethlehem. There's a train that rattles past this neck of town. The rumble, she says, sounds like an earthquake.
Taking herself back to February 22 requires a deep breath.
It's 12.51pm and Clark is sitting at her computer in her house on Barbadoes St in Edgeware. Her son, Joseph, is in his bouncer in front of the TV and her daughter, Shaylin, is at Banford School.
She is paying a bill online and there's washing in the machine that needs to be hung out. With a click of the mouse, the earth awakens. As it soars, so does her heart.
She is frozen in her chair, staring at her computer screen. She waits. It's getting worse. The floor is going in all directions.
Clark grabs Joseph and together they are thrown to the other side of the living room. They bump their heads but miraculously suffer no other injuries. They get out of their "tipping" house and Clark grips on to the fence.
After the quake, Clark jumps in her Subaru Legacy with Joseph and they head to Shaylin's school. It's usually a 10-minute drive but today it takes three hours.
The road is opening up with aftershocks and liquefaction is spitting high into the air and into Clark's open car windows.
After Clark picks up Shaylin they seek refuge at a relative's house. "I couldn't get back to my house. Once you got across the bridge on Stanmore Rd there was no way of going back. I had no bottles, no milk formula, no nappies, no clothing, just the stretch-and-grow Joseph was in."
Clark attempts to find a shop but none are open. By chance she sees a Maori woman, Tiana, standing in Hargood St holding a baby.
"I thought, 'I'm just going to stop and ask her'. She took me to her house and she gave up bottles, six packets of formula, a packet of Huggies and clothing for my son. I'll never ever forget that lady - and she had three or four of her own little children to take care of.
"When they say Cantabrians are sticking together and helping one another, that's not even half of it."
The next day, Clark and her children take an alternative route back to their house. It takes four hours but once there, they don't stay long.
"I was freaking out," Clark says. "It was a real rush because I didn't want to be inside the house. I was terrified. It's the most traumatic thing I've ever been through in my life.
Clark says she can see why so many lives were lost on February 22.
"They just sat there and waited to see if it was going to get bigger because we've had thousands [of aftershocks]. You don't know if it's going to be a big one so you sit and you wait, and you wait. And this time it was too late."
Clark, Joseph, Shaylin, their dog, Max, and Clark's partner and father of her children, Joseph Wickliffe, drive to Picton on February 23, stay overnight and then head to Levin.
By Sunday they are in Tauranga with Wickliffe's family and have been here ever since. An uncertain future lies ahead.
At the time of this interview, Clark was waiting for her Housing New Zealand home in Christchurch to be inspected and hoped Work and Income would help her with trucking her furniture up to Tauranga.
There is only one resident living in Clark's street now, which has become a "ghost town".
"I'll never go back to Christchurch. I've been there 11 years and that's where my whole life is but I'm not taking my kids back there. That's probably the hardest thing, starting your whole life again."
Clark has secured a temporary Housing New Zealand home in Tauranga for three months. The location however, has been difficult because Clark feels nervous living on swampland, or on hills.
"I can't go and live in them because I know what happens to houses like that. I know they haven't had an earthquake here in years but the potential is there. It's on my mind all the time."
Clark admits she has developed an intense paranoia. She doesn't let her kids out of sight.
"They've got to be close to me," she says. "That's what's making it so hard to move forward. I don't sleep. I'm anxious all the time.
'We're trying to start again'
Clark says the February 22 quake was "30 times" worse than the September 4 one. A lot of buildings were cordoned off for a long time and it's her belief they should have been demolished immediately.
Clark wants to see grants go to the residents, not repairing historic buildings.
"Bob Parker is doing a wonderful job. He's a fantastic mayor but I just don't know if the council's priorities are where they should be.
"I try to stay away from the news now. We're trying to start again. It's not like we're trying to forget about those people in Christchurch but it's really hard to move forward if you're just going to sit there and watch the news."
Shaylin, 7, has written dozens of letters to her teacher, "Mrs Hubbard", who comforted her at school on the day of the February quake.
She misses Christchurch and says: "She was one of my best teachers. She made us all come next to her and said 'just come close', so we don't get hurt. It was upsetting because my dad was working in the hospital and I was thinking he must have fell down the stairs. I was worried about my puppy too because he was at home by himself."
Clark predicts Christchurch has not seen the last of the devastating quakes.
Rise Up Tauranga

The exodus from Christchurch is growing by the day. There have been 233 registrations with the Bay of Plenty Regional Council and there are likely to be more as entire families are able to register on one form and registrations can be taken before leaving the South Island.
Work and Income has assisted 83 people with 151 civil defence payments in the Western Bay since February 23. Bethlehem woman Rosalie Crawford, who set up Rise Up Tauranga on March 3, with others, is co-ordinating accommodation, furniture and clothes for those who have found themselves in a new city with nothing.
Rise Up Tauranga has also set up a friendship network and aims to put Cantabrians in touch with health and social services.
Churches are doing their bit to help, including providing meals, and schools are enrolling Christchurch children.
The Oropi School community is offering accommodation to families from Lyttelton and have already raised funds to get a family of six to Tauranga.
So far, more than 350 Tauranga people have opened their homes to Christchurch residents looking for short-term accommodation; and many more have offered help in some other way.
It's a ray of hope for someone like Melody Leveridge, who has made Mount Maunganui her temporary home.
The Cantabrian wears a striking v-neck, red and black dress.
"I've been trying to find more red and black things," she says smoothing the fabric.
Leveridge doesn't know when she'll return to Christchurch. Right now the idea terrifies her. "As a parent it's just safety and the thought of returning is nerve-racking," she says. She and her three children are staying with her mother, 78-year-old June Leveridge.
Her husband, Kevin Ban, has been in Christchurch sorting out damage to their international business, Kelford Camtech, in Mowbray St. But last week he flew to Tauranga for a four-day reprieve.
Of returning, Leveridge says: "It's making me quite shaky just discussing it with you."
She runs her hands through shoulder-length wavy hair. "Even I don't want to go back by myself. But I'm sure I will have to. I certainly won't be sending the kids back for months."
Leveridge took refuge under her desk on the day of the February quake. Fifteen seconds later she was able to get up and, with shaking legs, cautiously went to check that Kevin and her colleagues were okay.
Downstairs water was flowing through doors in their workshop. A fifth of their $1 million of stock was damaged or destroyed. Liquefaction caused the carpet to rise up by 30cm and a geyser spouted in the middle of the floor.
Two ground-level concrete pads the size of a single room and put in specially for machinery dropped 30cm and every crack in the floor caused by the quake had liquefaction oozing out.
Leveridge, who at the time had her mum staying with her, rushed home. The usual 10-minute trip to Mount Pleasant took an hour and sometimes she had to drive on the footpath. Her mum was fine but the house was a mess. One of their two 3-year-old cavoodle dogs, Zoro, was shaking uncontrollably. The other, Tinka, was likewise scared, and the cat, Shelby, had gone "awol".
Leveridge says she never thought she would experience something like this in her lifetime. "Not twice, certainly not."
June returned home to Mount Maunganui with the children, Annalisa, 10, Lucas, 7, and Henry, 5.
Leveridge and her husband stayed at a friend's place before she left for the Mount. Only one in 20 homes in their area are now occupied.
Leveridge says the quakes tested her mothering skills and the family was seeking trauma counselling.
For many nights they slept in their clothes their shoes ready at the door, in case they had to escape.
"We have kept them away from the news and try not to discuss it in depth. They're kids and they need to live for today, not yesterday. And I don't want them to worry about tomorrow."
"I remember putting them to bed and an aftershock came. They were crying out. I went up and said, 'Are you okay?' 'Yes.' 'Is the house okay? 'Yes.' 'Are the pets okay?' 'Yes.' 'Well, you can go back to sleep then.'
"I can't say that to them anymore. I don't feel as a mother or as a honest person that I can reassure them with those words anymore. "All you can do is hold on, and hope for the best. You can't change an earthquake. Some people will get on with it and heal. Others will have longer issues with feeling safe."
Life, like their city, has been tipped upside down

Few people would have had a more exceptional birthday story than Sacha Busch. The single mum of four turned 39 on February 22 and was in Pak'n Save in Moorhouse Ave, standing at the checkout.
The force of the quake pulled her into the packing area.
Joseph, 3 months, was in a baby restrainer in the out-of-control trolley.
"The big silver down-lights started smashing to the ground around me and I threw myself over Joseph," Busch says.
"I couldn't control the trolley. All the things were flying off the shelves. People were screaming and running."
Today, Busch is safe in Otumoetai. She and her four children are staying with her mother. But life, like their city, has been tipped upside down.
On the afternoon of the quake her two daughters were at home in Sydenham, five blocks away from the CBD.
Caitlin, 16, was in her bedroom writing in her mother's birthday card. She took refuge in a door frame.
Ana, 12, fell off the couch in the living room. Alex, 6, was at school.
Busch picked up her daughters and they headed to pick up Alex.
"Aftershocks were happening and the car was rocking all over the road. We got to the school and all the children were on the field crying. Just a sea of crying," she says, cradling baby Joseph.
"In the ground had come up these wee volcanoes full of the liquefaction and out the tops was shooting water. There were little volcanoes all around this massive field and a sea of crying."
Alex, she says, has been "strange" ever since.
"They all have, really. Children don't really know to tell you how they're feeling. They generally do it in behaviour and it's just horrible."
On the night of the earthquake the Busch family had no power and their rented home was ravaged by aftershocks.
Her friend booked the family a ferry ticket over the internet, and they, with cats Crunchie and Muffy, headed to Picton. They got the last cabin in a camping ground.
"I had never driven up in New Zealand before on my own. I didn't have maps or anything. An uncle met me in Wellington and showed me exactly how to get to Tauranga."
Busch planned to return to Christchurch last weekend to collect her belongings from the house, which was "completely trashed" by the quake. Whether they ever return to Christchurch permanently is up in the air.
Her daughters are at Otumoetai College and Alex enrolled at Otumoetai Primary.
"Who would want to put their children back in that situation? At the moment they're dealing with gastroenteritis and I have a little, little baby to consider. There's just so many reasons that it's so difficult for someone who is vulnerable like me," Busch says.
"The situation in Christchurch is so desperate now."
We're all inter-connected

Tauranga mayor Stuart Crosby says Tauranga opens its heart to Christchurch.
"We had our own small issue in 2005 with the flood. We lost 40 houses and several hundred people were displaced. And that was a lesson for New Zealand and we've passed it on.
"We are a very small nation and we're all inter-connected up and down the breadth of the country.
"When one family has a problem we wrap around to give them support. It will be decades before Christchurch is back on its feet socially and economically."
Crosby was in Christchurch for yestserday's memorial service and plans to visit again within two months, as mayor of Tauranga and economic development spokesman for Local Government New Zealand.
Tauranga MP Simon Bridges anticipates the exodus from Canterbury to grow in coming weeks to "substantial numbers".
"Unless you've been there ... Seeing the news and seeing the pictures, it's impossible to fathom what they've been through. It's more awful and large in scale than what I think a lot of people in Tauranga can understand."
For Meg Jamieson, her parents, Bob, 70, and Marie, 67, and her children, Benjimen, 11, Elijah, 9, and Tessa, 4, the generosity has been enormous.
Oropi couple Jan and Hans Pendergrast opened their home to the strangers, who arrived from Lyttelton on March 6 for a break.
"It's been huge," says Jamieson, who until now, had never been to the Bay of Plenty. "Sleep is at a premium when you're going through earthquakes and you have to be removed from it a little bit to understand and comprehend it. It's a little surreal being so far away. There's still a long haul to come.
"It will be lovely to go back but we are very concerned, especially when people tell you the big one hasn't happened yet. We are going to go back because it's where we're from."
She won't give up on Canterbury.
"It's a great community and its got a great spirit. It's our home."
HELP FOR CHRISTCHURCH
On Facebook: Join the groups: Christchurch families move to Tauranga; Rise Up Tauranga; Ten Days in Tauranga.
For counselling: The Hillier Centre: 575 9709.
Must do: All self-evacuees who have arrived from Christchurch need to register with the Red Cross. Visit 245 Chadwick Rd, Greerton, or phone 578 6987.
Offering assistance: Contact the group Rise up Tauranga. Ph Rosalie Crawford, 021 072 8255.