Just grateful to be alive

Members of the McGeorge family, Celeste (front) and (back, from left) Dale, Jessie and June wait...
Members of the McGeorge family, Celeste (front) and (back, from left) Dale, Jessie and June wait for the billy to boil on a barbecue fashioned from the remains of their front fence. Photo by Stephen Jaquiery.
The Ratahi family, of New Brighton, has many reasons for complaining - but they are not.

In the face of their trials and woes they know others are worse off, those whose loved ones are dead or missing.

Like thousands of suburban Christchurch families, they are determined to go about the day-to-day business of living.

But life without sleep, power, money or information is nigh on impossible.

Christchurch's eastern suburbs streets are awash with silt thrown up by liquefaction that has engulfed cars and threatened the foundations of homes.

Pauline and Anne O'Connor, and Tinkles, contemplate their future in their Palmers Rd, Brighton,...
Pauline and Anne O'Connor, and Tinkles, contemplate their future in their Palmers Rd, Brighton, house, which was severely damaged in Tuesday's quake. Photo by Peter McIntosh.
The roads are potholed, bridges have been damaged, and the Avon River is swollen, threatening to flood already damaged houses.

Power, water and sewerage have yet to be restored.

The Ratahis are not really sure of the magnitude of the city's destruction because radio is their only lifeline to the outside world. But they are immensely saddened at what they have heard.

"My heart's breaking for those [the grieving] families," says Anne Ratahi.

When water arrived yesterday in New Brighton, for the first time since Tuesday, it hit home what a treat an operating tap was.

Greg Campbell and Deanna Lyons, and dog Soul, are sleeping in the van. Photo by Peter McIntosh.
Greg Campbell and Deanna Lyons, and dog Soul, are sleeping in the van. Photo by Peter McIntosh.
They have decided to stay - despite the house's cracks and the liquefied grounds.

They want to stay out of the way of those who need to use the roads and they need to conserve as much as they can.

They had no cash so could not buy anything, even if there was anything to buy.

Mrs Ratahi's husband needed water to take his chemotherapy pill and her 17-month old granddaughter screamed and screamed at every aftershock.

Anne Ratahi finds comfort in dog Bonnie, as family and neighbours gather for a cup of tea, at the...
Anne Ratahi finds comfort in dog Bonnie, as family and neighbours gather for a cup of tea, at the Ratahi's Inverell Pl, Brighton, home. Photo by Stephen Jaquiery.
"But it shouldn't be... I'm not complaining because there is so much sadness."

The Ratahis count themselves lucky because as campers they have a camp toilet and gas cooker.

As for the future: "Absolutely, it's going to happen again. Everything has changed. It's just so hard to cope with the fear."

Down the road, Celeste McGeorge and her partner, Michael Poweley, walked two hours through liquefied silt after the quake, so they could be with Ms McGeorge's parents.

"If I'm with people, I feel better," Ms McGeorge said.

Joyously anticipating the first cooked food since the disaster - bacon and eggs cooked on a rudimentary barbecue fashioned out of the rubble of a concrete fence - Ms McGeorge said she had never felt so stranded in her life.

The family of six, including Ms McGeorge's two brothers, are carless after their vehicle was damaged in a pothole, and they are sleeping on the veranda, because the ceiling inside the house is about to collapse.

Being with family helped, but even though they were lucky they were all alive and well, it was nevertheless emotionally draining, she said.

"I never cried so much in my life; I don't know why, but I just keep crying."

The Ratahis and McGeorges accept it will be much longer than last time, days, maybe even weeks before the power, water or sewerage are back on.

"Let them sort out town and then get to us," Ms McGeorge said.

Pauline and Anne O'Connor said it would take months to fix their seven-year-old Brighton house, if that was possible, at all. One corner had slumped and some walls were out of kilter.

A sinkhole in the driveway was waist-deep on Tuesday but had been mostly filled in by hand and had not sunk significantly further, she said.

Their first priority was to ensure the driveway was safe so a truck could come and take away most of the contents of the house- ruined carpet, smashed crockery, broken appliances and furniture and useless food.

Despite shock and a few scrapes and bruises, both the women said they were grateful to be alive.

"We've got life and limb but some people have lost homes and loved ones."

 

 

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