This past week the country (and probably the world) has been focused on the aftermath of the earthquake in Christchurch. Watching scenes of heroism and despair. Hoping and praying that people buried in rubble during their workdays would be pulled out alive.
On Wednesday I flew up to Kerikeri for meeting. As I arrived at Auckland Airport for my flight, busloads of emergency workers from St. John's were getting off buses and lining up for flights to Christchurch to assist with rescue and recovery. I found myself teary, it was hard for me not to go up to wish them "God's speed" but I was afraid I was too emotional to do so.
On Friday I flew to Wellington for a meeting. On my return flight, I sat next to an English lady who, with her husband, had been caught up in the earthquake. She recounted a harrowing tale of being caught on the 10th floor of a carpark downtown in the city centre. When the quake happened they were forced to run for their lives, leaving their rental car and all belongings, including passports, but escaping unscathed physically. They stayed at one of the camps set up for victims, before travelling to Wellington via military aircraft to get to the British High Commission to obtain new passports. The previous night they slept at a Marae with a hundred or so displaced evacuees. Once in Auckland they were being met by family, and would start the final leg of their journey home.
The woman wanted and seemed to need to talk about it. She kept commenting about the kindess of everyone she encountered, how they reached out to assist and try to make things better.
It was their first trip to New Zealand; after three weeks of touring, they had been ready to fly back to England the night the earthquake hit.
It has been a rough week here. Thoughts and prayers for the people of Christchurch and emergency workers who have come to their aid, please. I hope this lady has made it home. At one point I told her that it will be one of those experiences she will remember for the rest of her life. For me, it was one of those situations where I just wanted to give her a hug.
In thinking about whether or not I should have done this, I've realized that an American would have been impetuous, but that a Kiwi would have shown more reserve and held back. So it seems I've become more Kiwi without knowing it, and am proud to think that might be the case.
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