What Remains

It's been over two months since the earthquake and I can hardly believe it. I'll be heading back to Canada in less than two months ... I hope the time doesn't fly by as fast as it has so far but in my heart I know it will. 

Earlier this month I finally made the trip to as close to downtown as you can get in Christchurch these days. The city centre is blocked off completely by fences and is patrolled 24/7 by volunteer and military personnel. Still, as you walk toward the CBD the damage is extensive - it makes you glad you can't walk straight through to the heart of it. I wandered about the sealed-off area, and just looking around made me fall completely silent; I was overwhelmed by how tangible the grief was. It hung on every dilapidated building, every fallen brick, and every crack in the road. I felt helpless; what could I do to help Christchurch? Volunteers can't get in, and there's not much left to do outside of the worst damaged areas. It's as though the city's heart has been ripped out and everyone can see the bloody hole that's left behind - you can look at it, take pictures, gawk like it's a museum display and then go home. As long as you have a home to go back to; as long as you're not terrified the earth will shake again and your walls will fall down around you.

Despite the fact that I felt no desire to pull out a camera and violate the exposed innards of my current city, I know people back home have been asking to see it. I only had the nerve to take a few.

What remains to be seen of the cathedral.

One of many destroyed churches