Terry Sarten: Shaken and stirred by quake chaos

I was in Christchurch last Monday meeting my work colleagues.
I came away with a better understanding of what it means to live there in these uncertain times.
Prior to the 1pm earthquake, we had been conversing over coffee about the adaptations locals have made as a result of the ongoing, earth-shattering shakes. One of these is the new meaning given to the catchphrase "Location, location, location". This notion has now become a routine observation for Christchurch people. Always alert to the possibility of another shake, they have developed a habit of noting the nearest exits, doorways, tall structures or safe places and the relative location of partners, children, friends and workmates.
As we sat outside a cafe, sipping our coffee, there was a sudden, very fierce shaking. Everything seemed to sway and shift about. When it finally stopped, everyone without exception whipped out a cellphone and started texting/calling family members to report and check all were safe. The second shake, later that afternoon, rumbled and rocked the stationary car we were in. I jumped out and ran for the open spaces while my colleague, demonstrating practised wisdom, acted with more dignified calm.
I left Christchurch on Monday evening on a late flight. As I sat in the airport, hearing the stories of those who had been waiting for hours because of delays caused by the earthquake and the volcanic ash cloud and listening to announced delays and cancellations, it was easy to observe the emotional changes in the faces of those waiting.
Each announcement brought hope to some and a collective sigh from others. Smiles of relief and frowns of frustration would cross people's faces as they listened intently. "Your emotions are ready for take-off on runaway three." "Please prepare to be bored and flustered for another hour as your flight is further delayed by something new." "Please do not leave unattended emotional baggage where others can see it." Despite the sense of being held hostage by events, people did not leave and go off in a huff or a snitch (both of these are small and high-maintenance vehicles for any form of emotional transport and do not get you very far). People seemed to be adopting a very zen approach, accepting that this was all no fault of the airlines and there was little that could be done.
Instead, they were greeting one another and sharing tales. People asked complete strangers, "Did the earth move for you? Where were you when the second quake struck?"
To live with these earth-shaking events and so much uncertainty must be incredibly hard. Here in Whanganui, we do have the occasional earthquake. We can empathise and we do what we can to help our southern cousins, but it is difficult to comprehend how devastating it is to heart and soul when these earthquakes go on and on, creating further destruction and chaos. Our thoughts go to those in Christchurch.
Terry Sarten lives in Whanganui and describes himself as a parent, musician, writer and social worker.