On the road to recovery

At 12.51 p.m. on Tuesday 22 February 2011, a magnitude 6.3 earthquake shook the city of Christchurch.  Its epicentre, near the port town of Lyttelton, was less than 10 km southeast of Christchurch's central business district. It caused the collapse of several major buildings including the city’s much loved and photogenic cathedral. 185 people were killed and several thousand were injured.

My family traces many of its roots to the Christchurch and Canterbury region. As a child, I recall spending many enjoyable holidays at my grandmother’s house in central Christchurch (think of a rope swing hanging from a Pear tree).  Therefore it was an emotional experience to watch live television coverage of the quake’s devastation and its aftermath. My aunt’s home was destroyed by the quake and my cousin, a civil engineer, was heavily involved in the city’s slow recovery.

I spent a day touring the city with my Auntie Pam on ANZAC Day, witnessing first hand the extent of the city’s devastation and its rebuilding efforts. Pam was a superb host. Together we visited many of the disaster’s more poignant locations. This included the recently opened memorial park on the banks of the Avon River, the shattered remains of the cathedral and its “temporary” replacement, the quirky “cardboard cathedral”.

The memorial park is a credit to the city.  It’s a wonderful place of reflection.  For me, the memorial’s highlight is a kōhatu pounamu (greenstone) resting on a marble plinth at its entrance. It reflects an established Māori tradition of placing pounamu at important entranceways and thresholds and the ritual of touching the stone connects visitors and locals back to the land and all those who have been there before us.

The greenstone is sprayed at regular interval by a water feature.  This accentuates the stone’s rich green colour as well as symbolises water’s life-giving qualities. No doubt it also discretely assist with public hygiene as almost every visitor, myself included, pauses to reflect and touch the stone.

We then walked the streets of central Christchurch.  I was astonished to see block after block of commercial buildings had been demolished and removed.  I knew this had happened but the reality was rather confronting and brought home the true scale of this disaster. 

However, it was also encouraging to see the first new blocks of buildings open for business.  It’s clear that once Christchurch has been fully rebuilt, the city will enjoy an incredibly modern, vibrant and unusually coherent streetscape.  The temporary cardboard cathedral is a superb example of this regeneration.

Designed by Japanese architect, Shigeru Ban, the officially titled “Transition Cathedral” is genuinely impressive.  Its gently sloping roof rises 21 metres (69 ft) above the altar. Materials used in its construction include 60-centimetre diameter cardboard tubes, timber and steel. The roof is clad in clear, ribbed, plastic poly-carbon sheeting, while eight shipping containers housing side chapels and office form its walls.

Perhaps the most shocking sight of my brief visit was the open parklands that have appeared in several locations along the Avon River’s bank.  These calm, grassy stretches, filled with mature trees, often in orderly orders are in fact the remains of abandoned suburbs.  Several areas of the city experienced dramatic bouts of liquefaction during the quake and its numerous aftershocks. 

As a result, entire suburbs were gazetted as “Red Zones” and deemed permanently unsuitable for rebuilding.  My Aunt’s former home lies within one zone and my grandmother’s house sits literally across the street from a second zone.  I’m sure one of these parks will make a superb golf course some day.