Flooding Legacies

There is nothing quite as humbling as good ole Mother Nature. As a person who grew up in the Canadian prairies, I thought I had seen "bad weather". Actually, after spending 40 years coping with eight-month long winters; experiencing countless days of "four-layers of clothing required" -30 C; dodging freak hail and thunderstorms; and driving in blizzards where heavily falling snow reduced visibility to zero, I pretty much figured I had seen it all. But, this past weekend, (Tropical Cyclone) Oswald decided to show me his version of subtropical "bad weather". It isn't a version that you see promoted in tourism campaigns. Living in Queensland is not always about sunshine and sun tans. Sometimes, the weather looks like this:

Pictures of the Queensland cyclone/flood January 2013

My youngest turned six this weekend. My little Canadian boy, born on one of those "bad weather" days I speak of above. My winter-turned-summer baby. He is intensely proud that he now celebrates "his earth's rotation of the sun" on a summertime national holiday: Australia Day. He loves doning his "I Love Oz" t-shirt and jovially celebrating his birth in conjunction with the birth of his newly adopted home. 

Birthday boy opening his gifts
(only birthday activity not dampened by the weather)

This year, our Australia Day outing was rained out, courtesy of Oswald. And little did we know at the time, that we would not see the sunshine again for 72 hours. For the next two days, we would be hammered by incessant rain, and howling winds (with speeds up to 70 km per hour). Trees were uprooted, windows smashed, flash floods swept cars from the roads that were, only moments before, safe to travel on. TV images from towns north of us showed tornados reeking havoc. And then came the flood threats. Because over 250 mm of rain had fallen in such a short time, rivers and their feeder streams were overflowing. And all that water was coming our way . . . to our idyllic home on the Brisbane River. To beautiful Brisbane, a city that has not finished rebuilding from the last devastating floods of 2011.

We didn't live here in January of 2011. But we have heard a lot about it from people who called Brisbane home on that D-Day: January 13, 2011. When all was said and done, there was over one billion dollars in property damage and 35 lost lives. The people of Brisbane have not yet finished repairing the physical damage caused by that natural disaster. When we moved to Brisbane in September of 2011, the city was immersed in its clean-up efforts. Stores were re-opening, some insurance monies were (finally) forthcoming, and houses were being renovated. However, in some ways, I think that repairing the extensive physical damage is the easiest part. The un-repaired (un-repairable?) damage is the psychological one, not easily seen but almost always present. The elephant in the room.

On Sunday, we went out to a movie in an attempt to create some (belated) celebratory atmosphere for our birthday boy's special day. We arrived home mid-afternoon, and turned on news reports to get further information about the peak of the storm, expected to slam its full force into Brisbane that evening. The TV news is never about 'good' news. So we had no illusions that we'd hear anything other than dire predictions. I will say, though, that I was unnerved to hear the announcer somberly announce an impending flood of the Brisbane River. We live on the Brisbane river. Our kids go to a school that is adjacent to the Brisbane river. Brisbane is actually centered around it's river, from the entertainment precincts in the CBD and South Bank to the many parks and cultural public spaces. And the news just got worse. By Monday morning (a public holiday in lieu of Saturday's Australia Day), we learned that our property (most likely the yard, not the house) was expected to sustain flooding damage. And that the city would once again be staring down the barrel of a destructive overflowing river and a massive clean-up/rebuild effort. We monitored the water levels of the river all day on Monday. We created "flood protection plans" in our heads.We strategized with our landlords. We accepted offers of "call us when you need us" help from friends, neighbours and strangers. And we waited. We waited all night. Last night, I awoke hourly, walking tentatively to the windows that have a river view, and cautiously raising my eyes to the "unknown sight", hoping that I would see water--in the distance only! By the grace of God, every time, that's all I saw. 

As I write this, I believe the worst is over. The sun is shining today. Temperatures are 31 degrees. And the river in front of our house is right where it belongs-in the river bed. As it turns out, rising water levels are so far measuring far lower than originally estimated. Early news from those working/observing the CBD is that so far, many of the buildings expected to flood did not and actual damage is far less than many dared to hope. This morning, my children got to attend their first day of the 2013 school year, and our life will most likely return back to "normal" very soon. "Normal" until the next act of Mother Nature anyway.

First Day of Grades Five and One -
posing with the Brisbane River :)

One thing is clear. I can now say that I have a better understanding of the legacy of the 2011 floods. There are deep (generational) scars that always take root in situations such as this: where there is such widespread destruction, heartbreak, and loss. Yesterday, I could feel that collective pain; the fear that more loss was coming and the helplessness to stop it. But, the spirit of community, the senses of humour, the willingness to pitch in and help others without thinking of your own inconvenience--these signs of humanity are also 2011 QLD flood legacies. I will declare that in my opinion, Brisbanites are cut from some tough cloth. Because although this Canadian prairie girl thought she had the market on living in extreme climate conditions, she doesn't. I haven't seen it all. Not even close. 

Craving Connection

It's 2013. It's a new year--a blank slate to imprint as we wish. I have been doing some thinking about what I want this year to look like--my aspirations and goals, along with the relationships and lifestyle that I wish to maintain.

I will confess that I am also mending a broken heart. I just had the privilege of spending three full weeks with seven of my most cherished peeps. We had the adventure of a lifetime-the type of opportunity that many would dream of having with people they love. Make no mistake--I am grateful that I have friends who can and will expend their precious time and money to travel 12 500 km to spend three weeks hanging out with us. Whether it was snorkeling on the Great Barrier Reef, watching sea turtles dive off the shores of Stradbroke Island, touring the World Heritage Blue Mountains, partaking in a 'bucket list' NYE party in Sydney Harbour, or drinking latte and gin in the Hendrick's Lounge . . . I treasure all of those moments in my heart and in my memory. A week ago, my friends flew back to Canada, and I am still intensely mourning the loss of their convenient presence--of being proximately and emotionally close to people who truly know us AND love us for who we are. No "unknown" expectations, no awkwardness, no need to pretend to be anything other than ourselves . . . just friendship and love. It is a rare thing in this foreign world where we now live--eager to make new friends and have new experiences, while knowing that 12 year relationships cannot be built in, or compared to, those that we've had for less than 15 months. 

This is the necessary context for understanding my Facebook decision. Because after re-experiencing that kind of love and support, logging on to see "pages you might like" and "sponsored ads" and a whole lot of corporate and self-promotion just doesn't cut it for me. 

It is true that the sometimes "one-sided" nature of Facebook has always been a pet peeve of mine. I know I am an incessant post-er (or some might say an over-sharer), but I have never appreciated this aspect of Facebook--openly and honestly sharing details of my life with people who don't reciprocate. My way of dealing with what I see as the "dark side" of Facebook has thus far been to strictly control my friendship lists. I regularly "defriend" people from my Friends list who don't actively participate.

Over the past few months, I have really noticed that Facebook is becoming intensely focused on business promotion. My Newsfeed is cluttered with impersonal information that doesn't really matter to me, but that for whatever reason, I am taking time and energy to read at many points throughout my day. At times, I have wondered where I can find information about my friends, as if Facebook is hiding it somewhere and all I need to do is pass an endurance test that amounts to slogging through way too many ads and "pages they suggest" to win that elusive prize.

As it turns out, the time-wasting endurance test has been for naught. Friends have been telling me that they don't use Facebook very much anymore. Many have decided to "take a break". I totally understand the many valid reasons for doing so, such as: prioritizing time for other things, privacy concerns, and values that hold personal interaction above online communicating. But, while friends are "taking their breaks", I am no longer privy to information about their lives. I don't know what's happening with their jobs, their families. And by "taking a break", most don't mean they are no longer looking at Facebook. Many still log on regularly. What I think many people mean by "break" is that they are logging on to passively read what others are doing, rather than to actively share parts of their lives. Watching this trend, my best guess is that Facebook will one day be almost solely an advertising platform for business, as it can't be a place for social connection when people don't take proactive measures to use it to actually connect. 

Truth be told, I am desperate for some real connection. This was made quite obvious to me after spending face-to-face time with my dear friends over the holidays. Real connection. That means "two-sided" communication where information is freely exchanged and both parties feel like they get to speak and listen in equal measure. Obviously, Facebook isn't meant to replace face-to-face interactions--meeting in person will always trump online social networking. However, I am feeling naive in my former belief that Facebook is a useful tool to stay connected with those who live too far away to meet for coffee or dinner. Because I'm not feeling connected. If anything, these days Facebook is facilitating my loneliness. 

So I am going to bite the bullet, listen to my heart, and "take a break". And I really mean "break", because tomorrow, I will be deactivating my Facebook account, eliminating the Facebook app from my phone and iPad, and using every ounce of willpower that I have to not log onto the Facebook site for the next month. I won't see your posts and your Facebook messages. The bright side is that I will also not be spending my time sifting through the hundreds of advertising-related posts. I won't be ducking trolls and their negativity, just to find the few "bright" spots: Facebook Friend status updates that are hidden gems within an increasingly impersonal online "community".

For the next 30 days, if you would like to connect with me, please send me an email or an iMessage. We can Skype. We can talk on the old-fashioned telephone. If you live in Brisbane, we can meet for a coffee or a glass of wine. If you want to know what's going on my life, ask me because I will be more than willing to tell you. :) And then I will get the chance to ask about your life too. I want to know what and how you are doing, and I don't buy for one second that you don't have anything interesting to say. You do. You just don't want to share it on Facebook. And that's OK. Right now, I don't want to either.

xx K