Free TRAVELING AROUND THE WORLD: Our Tales of Delights and Disasters by Shelley Row

glowed, rain splattered outside, and I tried to sleep. But each aftershock racked my nerves. They came every quarter to half-hour throughout the night. Five times they were so strong that I jumped up and ran into the center of the room away from the windows. Needless to say, sleep was elusive. But that’s okay. Mike and I were better off than many. People – perhaps hundreds – were buried under rubble a few blocks away (the final death toll was 181). Thousands were in the makeshift camp across the street in the park – shivering in cold, crowded tents in the rain. We heard stories the next day of residents bringing clothes and offering spare bedrooms to stranded tourists who were unable to return to their hotel rooms even to get luggage. We met three people on our bus the next morning who were traveling with only the clothes they were wearing as their hotel in the city center was inaccessible.
     
    I’ll take Cairo over this. At least in Cairo, we were not the target of violence or anger. No one wanted to see tourists hurt. Tanks were there to keep peace but also to ensure protection. Even though we could hear gunshots, none of it was directed at us. As long as we stayed out of the way, the chances were good that we’d be okay. This earthquake was a completely different situation. It did not discriminate, nor could we get out of the way. It would hit when and where it chose. All Mike and I could do was hope that we weren’t in the way.
     
    Between Cairo and Christchurch, we learned several things about being in crisis situations. The first is patience. You just don’t know – nor does anyone else – what will happen in the situation. There’s no point getting excited or frustrated. Everyone is doing their best. And that’s the next thing. You have to rely on the kindness of complete strangers. How many times have we seen unfortunate things in the newspaper, thought, “Oh, so sad,” and turned the page? But it’s real – very real. And many of those people will get through their day because of the stranger who stops on the street to help them. And finally, I learned that you can only take one step at a time – and that’s sufficient. Crisis situations are filled with unknowns – so many that you can’t sort out the future direction. Sometimes, all that’s possible is to do what seems right at that moment; get to the next place; evaluate; and make the next choice. Advance planning is a nice idea but it doesn’t work when the situation is a complete unknown.
     
    Mike and I also learned that true customer service shines through in a crisis. We experienced it in Cairo and we saw it again here. Peter and his family suffered damage in their personal home; Peter’s daughter burst into tears when she found him safe at the Classic Villa; and yet they stayed in the Villa with us that night. Food, wine, song and words of comfort are not on their brochure, but that’s what we received. And, you know, it helped.
     
    We are now safely away in Queenstown but the impact of this earthquake remains with us in many ways. Each rumble or creak makes us fear another quake. But more importantly, we are touched by the immensity of what happened to so many people. It took several hundred years for Christchurch to become the charming town we experienced. It took a few seconds to turn it to rubble and destroy lives, families and livelihoods. The people of Christchurch, along with others from around the world, are already clearing away the debris and moving on. It will be day by day, but – what a difference a day can make.

Thursday, March 3, 2011
    A “Wee” Mob of Sheep
    Since we left Christchurch after the earthquake, Mike and I have been in awe of the New Zealand landscape. As we traveled our way south to Queenstown, we passed rolling green hills and towering craggy mountains with green slopes. There was a gentle dusting of white sheep on the slopes. Some sheep were recently sheared; they looked skinny and naked. Others