Goodbye, Chch Cathedral

Two years ago, I was living in Christchurch, New Zealand.

One year ago, Christchurch was hit with a devastating earthquake that left the city in shambles and almost 200 people dead.

Yesterday, there was an announcement made that is heartbreaking to anyone who has ever lived in or visited Chch.  The historic cathedral is coming down.

This beautiful, majestic cathedral was built in the mid-1800s and is by far the most important landmark in Christchurch.  It’s gorgeous, too.  Situated right in the middle of the modern city buildings, it’s the focal point anywhere it’s in sight.  It’s like Marilyn Monroe in a crowd full of normal people.

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Along with other major structural damage, the steeple collapsed in the February 2011 earthquake, and rebuilding assessment and efforts have been slowly moving forward ever since.  Apparently, though, it’s been decided that the damage is just too deep and the building cannot be made sound again as is.  The current plan is to bring the remaining walls down to a height of a few feet and reconstruct the area as a prayer garden.  There’s mention of building a new cathedral in Chch at some point, but it wouldn’t be the same one or in the same place.

I can’t imagine Cathedral Square without a cathedral.  On my first weekend in New Zealand, I went with my friends Erika, Katharina, and Laurie into the city centre to visit the cathedral.  Though it was a beautiful building absolutely oozing with rich history and magnificent architecture, my photos of it often fell to the wayside when I’ve remembered my time in NZ, passed over in favor of hiking trips, rainforest waterfalls, or nights in Ilam with friends and flatmates.  However, in light of this recent news, I thought that day deserved an appreciative trip down memory lane.

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I loved how traditionally grand and majestic the cathedral was, while still seeming light and bright.  In true Kiwi fashion, visitors and parishioners alike were reverent but not silent.  It felt like a place that you were allowed to enjoy.

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We were encouraged by the welcoming guide to look around, take photos, and ask questions.  It wasn’t like any other cathedrals I’d visited – I think someone even laughed once.  When I was at the Sacré-Coeur, we couldn’t speak at all and a scary gendarme guard nearly chopped my arm off when I reached in my pocket for my notebook because he thought I was grabbing a camera… not as enjoyable.

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After wandering around and admiring the inside of the cathedral for a while, we headed for the building’s main attraction: the Tower Climb.  Visitors can take the winding staircase up through the cathedral’s 200-foot spire.  We were not encouraged by the fact that the entrance looked like what The Gang always found behind moving portraits in Scooby Doo.  Creepy.

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Up we went, and just a few minutes later, we were taking in the views of Cathedral Square, Christchurch city, and the Canterbury hills in the distance.  It absolutely blows my mind to think that nobody will ever be able to have this view again.

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See that building on the right that kind of looks like a railway station?  Well, it used to be a post office… but now it’s a Starbucks!  That little blue and white oval-shaped cart just above all the umbrellas is this Bavarian soft-serve stand that was proclaimed to be “Dynamite!” by an old man in the square one day, and the red and yellow booth in the lower right corner has the BEST pita wraps ever.  And the peak of the hill way in the distance was where we rode the gondola up to during the Christchurch Grand Tour.

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That was my very first weekend in New Zealand, so I was still in this childlike state of complete awe, acting like a kid in Willy Wonka’s factory every time I turned around.  For real, I would have nosedived into a chocolate river if there had been one available.

Even so, I can’t help wish I’d known how valuable that experience was at the time.  Countless people had visited that cathedral and climbed that tower before my friends and I did, but barely a year later, the earthquake would occur and nobody would ever have the chance again.  Okay, maybe I wouldn’t have wanted to know that.  Nevermind.

The point is, that cathedral was the heart and soul of the whole city.  It was a landmark, a big fat chunk of history, and a lovely meaningful place.  It was the backdrop for the Wizard of New Zealand to profess his views on baby-farming societies, electric cars, and the meaning of life every day in the square:

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The city will miss its beautiful centerpiece, but assuredly the people of Christchurch will handle this latest sad news with grace and humor, as they do everything.  Maybe I should tell someone about my Marilyn Monroe analogy so they have time to write a Candle in the Wind parody for the cathedral.  I think the Kiwis would like that.

“Your steeple fell down long before your legend ever did…”

There’s potential there.

The History of the Gump

After my blog post about Mikaela’s recent visit to the Outer Banks, I had a few inquiries about “The Gump.”  Although I’ve referenced it sporadically ever since this blog began, I never really explained what it is.  So here we go: get ready for some mind-blowing stuff.  This will change the way you relax, folks.

The Actual History of the Gump

You probably know that The Wizard of Oz movie was based on a book.  But wait, there’s more!  Thirteen more, to be exact.  L. Frank Baum actually wrote fourteen books about the Land of Oz.  I have only read the first three (the first one is the book that the movie’s based on), and they’re great.  Trippy and crazy and really creative – like Alice in Wonderland-ish.

Anyway, the second book, The Marvelous Land of Oz, is the story of what happens after Dorothy leaves.  Basically, the Tin Man and the Scarecrow and friends are still stuck in the Wizard’s castle, and the citizens of the Emerald City are all in an uproar because they just found out that the Wizard was a fake.  So they devise a plan to escape.  They tie two sofas together, add giant palm branch wings, and give it the animated talking head of a deer-like animal called a Gump.

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Awesome, right?  So they fly away in the Gump, successfully escaping from the crazy Emerald City-ers, and go on to have many magical adventures with a talking pumpkin and a walking sawhorse.  You should really read these books.

The Geneseo History of the Gump

During the first semester of my junior year in college, Malissa and I spent a whole lot of late nights together doing homework for our psychology classes.  Since these nights often involved quizzing each other out loud, running to Wendy’s for coffee toffee twisted Frosties, and taking breaks to watch Harry Potter movies, we thought it best to set up our study sessions in the main lounge of Wyoming Hall instead of one of our suites.

The main lounge of Wyoming Hall happened to be equipped with comfy blue very-generic-dorm-furniture couches, but we often ended up sitting on the floor because of all the papers, notes, and textbooks we had to spread out.  Then one day, one magic day, we pushed the couches together, and it was like a giant walled-in space to sit where we could spread our stuff out and  be way more comfortable than we were on the floor.  And I remembered the instance of two couches being pushed together in The Marvelous Land of Oz, and so we called this our own Gump.  Nick often joined us in Gumping (it quickly became a verb) in the main lounge, and once in a while we even invited the rest of our RA staff in as well.

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Admittedly, it was less comfortable with six people than it was with two, but you can imagine the insanely comfy study parties this thing led to.  It was with a heavy heart that I said goodbye to my staff, good ol’ Wyo, and the Gump at the end of that semester.

The New Zealand History of the Gump

When I flew halfway around the world next semester and moved into my flat in Christchurch, New Zealand, my flatmates and I quickly remarked on the weird brown comfy-yet-square couches in our living room.

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Still fresh off my semester of Gumping with my wonderful Wyo staff, I thought it seemed pretty obvious that those couches were just begging to be pushed together.

The Gump instantly became a fixture in O-119.  Seriously, we had this down to a science.  Someone could yell, “Let’s Gump!” and we’d have the couches together, the chairs set up, the tea brewing, and our movie picked out in two minutes flat.

Sometimes we enjoyed Gumping with no furnishings to distract us from the pure joy of relaxing in what was essentially an adult playpen.  Mik and Sarah display that minimalist style here:

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More often than not, we dragged a couple of our sweet as duvets out to the living room, stacked the kitchen chairs on top of the coffee table, precariously balanced someone’s laptop on top, and turned the Gump into the perfect spot for movie night.

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I mean, check out that expert set up.  A kitchen chair on each side to serve as a side table for tea, cell phones, and Cadbury bars.  Genius.  That was actually the night that Erika and I stayed in and Gumped while a bunch of our friends went to the spring ball.  How lame… actually, I think we had a way better time.  Evenings in the Gump usually were a way better time than anything else.  Chelsea and I had one especially epic movie night in the Gump, when the rest of our flatmates were either tramping or being sociable, that we often reflect on as one of our favorite in NZed.  Ah, good times.

And of course, on our last night in New Zealand when it was only the two of us left, Mikaela and I spent our few remaining hours in the country we’d grown to love more than anything Gumping away with our main man RDJ.

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Gosh darn I really wish I’d brought that duvet cover home with me.

Anyway, there you have it: more than you could have ever possibly wanted to know about the references I make to “the Gump.”  But now you understand why it was so exciting for Mikaela to visit and for us to push my two couches together and watch Flight of the Conchords here on the OBX.  The Gump is officially global.

Serendipity

Three days ago, someone left this book on one of the Adirondack chairs on Front Porch’s front porch.  I first noticed it when I went out to water the plants around noon and figured that someone had either walked away from it briefly, or would realize they’d forgotten it and come back to pick it up.  When I closed the shop and left around 7:30 that evening, it was still there… so I figured it was fair game!  I’d never heard of this book before, and only grabbed it because it had a cool cover and I didn’t want it to get stuck in the rain!  My goal is to read a lot this summer and I’m always looking for new books.  It was a busy weekend, though – I ended up tossing The Bone People on the coffee table when I got home and leaving it there until today.  I finally picked it up again this morning and turned it over to read the back cover…

I don’t know how well you can read that print, but the summary starts out “In a tower on the New Zealand sea lives Kerewin Holmes, part Maori, part European, an artist estranged from her art…”

And it goes on from there.  I couldn’t believe it!  Not only is it a book about New Zealand, but it’s a book about New Zealand that specifically has to do with the Māori/pākeha dichotomy.  So funny that this was the book that someone happened to leave at the coffeeshop where I work, on a day when I happened to be working.  I told Sarah about it and she thought the same thing.  I know it’s not a huge deal, but I think little coincidences like this are so cool.  It just feels like something that was meant to be!  A simple twist of fate, as the eternally wise Bob Dylan would say.  And of course, any touch of New Zealand is like a welcome touch of home.  I’ve been feeling more disconnected from it lately because I’ve been getting so settled into life down here on the Outer Banks.  My time in New Zealand was not only halfway around the world, it was integrally a college experience, too.  I just feel very far away from all that right now, geographically and situationally.  It’s not exclusively a sad feeling, because I’m really happy here and I like the grown-up feeling I get from going to work every day, making dinner, and budgeting.  But I do miss college, and I do miss New Zealand.  It’s bittersweet, really.  I want to be where I am and keep moving forward, but I also want the happy times that are past, too.  I’m just greedy, I guess.

As soon as I finish The Annotated “Persuasion,” I’m going to dive into The Bone People.  Hopefully it’ll be like a little trip back to NZed – without a $1500 plane ticket and a 33 hour flight.

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