An all-encompassing darkness
Mar. 3rd, 2011 11:42 pmToday I faced up to something I kind of only really understood on an intellectual level - I had to face up to how badly my suburb is off after this earthquake. I walked home from a friend's house this evening when it was pitch dark. This is something I do regularly - she lives around the corner and down a bit from my house. There is no reason to drive. Tonight, however, this was a terrifying trip. It lasts 5 minutes at most, but it was freaky. See, we have power at my house, but that apparently doesn't extend to our streetlights. You come around the corner from my friend's house and enter another universe. It's a universe of total darkness. Behind you there is light, ahead of you only empty nothingness. Well, there was one house on the corner of my street that had lights on, but they were so low, shielded behind curtains that it was like being shrouded in darkness. There is also a single streetlight, far in the distance. Other than that there is nothing to navigate by. I walked, blindly, unsure of where the cracks in the pavement are, unsure even if I was on the pavement or the grass verge. I knew there was at least one large hole in the path between that space and my house. I just hoped I'd see it before I fell in it.
When I got to my corner I stopped. This is an eerie place at the moment. If you turn one way, towards my house, there are a couple of lights;dimmed behind curtains, but still there. You can see my house in the distance, the outside light on calling me home. But if you turn your back on that end you face true darkness. There isn't even one house down that end of the street with its lights on because they don't have power at all. There weren't even any cars on the roads to break the blackness; most people who can get out of here have got out of here. The others hang on grimly - living without the basic necessities we all take for granted. I faced up to the knowledge that if I lived just a few houses further down this street I would still be a visitor on the other side of the city, still be ignoring what is right in front of my face.
My city is broken. I knew that, of course - it's all over every news sites, every website, twitter etc. But I didn't know it, didn't feel it inside me the way I do now. My part of my city, my community, is broken. Last time it was distanced, this sort of problem. This time, it affects people I know. This time it's as close as across the divide in my street. I live on the lucky side of that divide, and it is only luck that has placed me there rather than in what one blogger is calling 'refugee city' (a part of city with no power, water etc that is feeling ignored and neglected in favour of the mostly people-less central city, or 'rescue city'). I live in what he calls 'shower city' (a place where you can have a hot shower if you want to, without jumping through hoops), and yet my shower city is only metres away from refugee city. It could have been us - in fact it was us for more than a week though we chose to stay away from the area. This isn't a distanced problem facing the people of Avonside, Bexley, Dallington. This is up close and personal. This is my city.
My city is broken, and it took a streetlight to ram that home to me.
When I got to my corner I stopped. This is an eerie place at the moment. If you turn one way, towards my house, there are a couple of lights;dimmed behind curtains, but still there. You can see my house in the distance, the outside light on calling me home. But if you turn your back on that end you face true darkness. There isn't even one house down that end of the street with its lights on because they don't have power at all. There weren't even any cars on the roads to break the blackness; most people who can get out of here have got out of here. The others hang on grimly - living without the basic necessities we all take for granted. I faced up to the knowledge that if I lived just a few houses further down this street I would still be a visitor on the other side of the city, still be ignoring what is right in front of my face.
My city is broken. I knew that, of course - it's all over every news sites, every website, twitter etc. But I didn't know it, didn't feel it inside me the way I do now. My part of my city, my community, is broken. Last time it was distanced, this sort of problem. This time, it affects people I know. This time it's as close as across the divide in my street. I live on the lucky side of that divide, and it is only luck that has placed me there rather than in what one blogger is calling 'refugee city' (a part of city with no power, water etc that is feeling ignored and neglected in favour of the mostly people-less central city, or 'rescue city'). I live in what he calls 'shower city' (a place where you can have a hot shower if you want to, without jumping through hoops), and yet my shower city is only metres away from refugee city. It could have been us - in fact it was us for more than a week though we chose to stay away from the area. This isn't a distanced problem facing the people of Avonside, Bexley, Dallington. This is up close and personal. This is my city.
My city is broken, and it took a streetlight to ram that home to me.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-03-03 12:19 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-03-04 01:38 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-03-03 02:51 pm (UTC)But I know that doesn't make it any easier for you right now. I'm sorry you're going through this. *hug*
(no subject)
Date: 2011-03-04 01:39 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-03-03 05:57 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-03-04 01:40 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-03-04 11:04 am (UTC)We're one of the lucky ones in my house, we have power but still no water and no sewage (I have to resist the urge to dance around singing "the portaloo's are coming the portaloos are coming" ..they're getting closer and closer to our street!!). Its definitely the simple things in life that I'm taking notice of and making count.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-03-06 02:56 am (UTC)I'm with you on the hurt around my beautiful city. I don't feel disconnected so much as just totally pained by what it's going through.
We have power, water and sewage. I know that we're one of the lucky ones, too, especially considering we live in the eastern side of town, but we were without for ages and it really comes home to me that I'm living this - I'm in it. It's not distant parts of the city; it's right here.
*hugs* I hope you get your portaloo soon. I've seen a few around my area, but nowhere near enough especially with the rain as dreadful as it is.