The Magnificent Kiwis

Times of stress produce the true measure of people.

After the monstrous quake hit Christchurch - God, was it just two days ago? - the people of Canterbury were astonishing. Despite the massive devastation (the death toll is currently 98, with 226 missing), I didn't hear an angry word - not even from people who had lost their house or didn't know where their loved ones were. Quite the opposite, people went out of their way to be kind, to help, to keep each others' spirits up.

Having been through this just five months ago when the 7.1 earthquake hit, perhaps they know that they need each other. I suspect it's more, something in the Kiwi ethos.

From the minute I tried to head into town from the AMI stadium this spirit became apparent. There were no functioning traffic lights and no cops and ten miles of backed-up traffic in both directions. Not a horn was beeped in anger. I was stunned to see people waving other cars ahead of them. There was no road rage, no jostling for position, no mad-dash scramble. Orderly. Civilized.

And sociable. Everyone had their windows down and was chatting to their neighbors. The cabbie I was with shouted out to a worker's van beside him, "How's it going? You right, mate?"

"Yup, fine. You?"

"Good, mate," said Paul, my cabbie. "Listen, you got a beer in there?"

"No, mate. Sorry about that. I could sure go for one myself."

Then he was ahead of us in the traffic and our new neighbor looked over. "How's it going, mate?" he said.

Cell phones weren't working, so no texting or emailing. The radio stations were off the air. A giant cloud of dust still hung over Christchurch, 9-11-like. I had no idea where Amy was, but suspected she was doing a bit of sight-seeing by the Cathedral.

When I heard the church had crumbled I had to get there, and more quickly than this eternal crawl. I hopped out of the cab, but not before having to just about smack the cabbie to be "allowed" to pay him and receiving his phone number in return. He invited me and Amy to stay at his house that night, if we needed it.

I ran now. When I got closer to downtown, the streets were blocked off, some of them by cops, many of them by rubble. I asked a guy walking in the opposite direction how to get to Cathedral Square. I told him I was looking for my wife.

When he was getting tangled up telling me how to get there, he said, "Oh, it'll be easier if I just take you. This way."

Don't you have some place to be?" I asked him. "Sure, mate, but it'll wait. You're not from here."

Once I recognized a familiar street I told him I was good to go.

He hugged me.

"I hope you find her."

Five minutes later I received a text, telling me Amy was OK and giving me a location.

I kept running. Everyone was talking to one another. Everyone was offering help, even as new aftershocks knocked down more buildings around them. By the time I found Amy - my happiest moment - she had made friends with fellow refugees in the Botanical Gardens.

For the rest of the evening, one thing after another amazed me: the humor, the concern for others, the offers of assistance

These are some magnificent bastards.

By nighttime, everyone was barbecuing and giving away the food. The air was aromatic with it. A hotel up the road opened its doors and offered free grub to anyone who needed it. I received three calls from people offering us a bed for the night. I know only three people in Christchurch.



You just felt you weren't alone. And that made you feel stronger, that you might just make it through this terrible tragedy. That is the magic of the Kiwi way.

I was evacuated to Auckland. Even there, in an airport at the other end of the country, people were giving out food to Christchurch survivors, offering free rides to anywhere in the city. Everyone wanted to help. This truely is a national disaster for New Zealand. Everyone is hurting and everyone wants to help.

Late last night my phone rang. It was somebody from Christchurch. He had loaned Amy his phone right after the quake so she could find out how I was. It didn't work. Now, 36 hours later, he was calling to check on the husband of a woman he'd met for five minutes. We talked for a good while.

Perhaps more than the violence of the earthquake, I will remember the gentleness of the Kiwis.

(Anyone who wishes to donate, can do so by going to the New Zealand Red Cross website here.)