Floods, Weather and Global Warming

Some of you might have heard of the recent extreme weather events we’ve had in New Zealand, leading to huge damage, destruction and loss of life. I thought I’d give a bit of a background to this.

New Zealand is a ‘wet’ country, with a moderately high rainfall. We’ve also had a wet winter, wet spring, and wet summer, at least in the North Island. So the land was already at its limit. And then one day in January, Auckland got a downpour that was equivalent to an entire summer’s rainfall in a few hours. Mayhem ensued. The soil, and the city’s drainage systems, were simply unable to cope. Flooding, collapsed hillsides, roads wrecked, homes and backyards left uninhabitable. People died. Many still can’t return to their homes, and some will never be able to.

Then there was the more recent Cyclone Gabrielle which also wreaked havoc, especially along the North Island’s East Coast. Even more widespread damage, and the loss of more lives. Whole areas are destroyed. Hawkes Bay is normally prime horticultural land, producing many of NZ’s fruit and vegetables. The country around Gisborne, a bit further north, is also prime grape and corn growing land. Much of it is now metres deep in muddy silt. Crops are ruined, stock have died, houses wiped out. Big farmers cry on national TV when they look at what has happened to their land.

The most productive parts of the East Coast are the coastal river flats. And yes, there were stopbanks, but they either weren’t enough or they broke under pressure of the deluge. Roads and bridges in the area have also been destroyed, adding to the difficulty of clean up, repairs to viral services, and getting supplies in.

There’s also the problem of forestry ‘slash’. For those who don’t know the term, it’s the parts of trees that get trimmed off and left behind by the forestry companies. Because behind the river flats, much of the East Coast is steep hill country, and when the storms come, that slash gets washed down, destroying infrastructure, choking streams and riverbeds, piling up on farms and fouling normally beautiful beaches for tens of kilometres. This has been a problem for years, and the forestry companies are supposed to be cleaning up their act, but not much has changed it seems.

And then there’s that silt. What is it exactly? It’s the filtered loose soil, washed down from the hills by the rain, and left behind when the waters recede. Because what isn’t forestry up there is mainly sheep farms. And anyone who’s ever travelled through that country knows how bare and ‘bony’ the hills look. Barely a tree in sight, except for those forestry blocks. The once-dense native bush that used to clothe them and hold the soil in place has long been cleared. But the towns, orchards, farms and vineyards downstream are now paying the price. Long-term of course, this sediment raises stream and river levels, which will only lead to worse flooding..... And the wet weather isn’t done with us yet.

All of this has sparked talk about things like rebuilding roads to be more weatherproof or further inland or both, ‘managed retreat’ from coastal areas now under threat as sea levels rise and storms get worse and more frequent, building higher and better stopbanks, and replanting hillsides in native bush. The government has ordered an inquiry into the forestry industry. It’s also become obvious that improving/rebuilding city and town drainage systems is essential, especially in Auckland where much of the network is up to a hundred years old, and totally inadequate for modern times.

Now New Zealand is not a stranger to rebuilding after natural disasters, thanks to the Christchurch earthquake. Much of that city is still being rebuilt, and many people there are still traumatised. So we know something of how long it’s likely to take to rebuild not just a city but an entire region. The public and the government know it’s not going to be easy, and that the cost will be immense – and that’s without taking into account the effect on food prices, already skyrocketing post-Covid.

The human cost is likely to be high too. Stress and trauma take their toll, even for those not directly affected. I live in a part of my town that could possibly be flooded if the stopbanks give way in a storm. Every time it rains, I think ‘is this The One? Am I going to be flooded out? What should I pack, what should I take, where should I go, how can I get through this? What am I likely to lose?’ It’s always nerve-wracking. I used to think that a roof being blown off was the worst that a storm could do to me, but now…

Global warming affects us all. We are all vulnerable. Things have gotten very real, very fast. It’s been a wake-up call for us, but what happened here in New Zealand could happen anywhere. Even Australia, dry and often drought-stricken country that it is, has had its share of floods and destruction in recent years. No-one is safe. That’s the message to be taken away from this. No-one knows what’s going to happen. Always plan for the worst.

And know that global warming is going to affect you too, in some way and to some degree, sooner rather than later. It’s here folks, and it’s real.

I Don't Fit Into This World

I don’t fit into this world. I never have, in so many ways.

Being autistic is of course a biggie. There’s the constant everyday jarring against the world, the sensory challenges, the social challenges, the practical challenges, especially if like me you also have executive dysfunction. It’s feeling like a square peg in a round-holed world. A world that doesn’t want me, and would sooner I didn’t exist.

But in turn I don’t value much of it either. I look at the hypocrisy, distorted attitudes, closed minds, hatred, injustices, oppression, prejudices and ‘isms’ everywhere, and I wonder how those people live with themselves. I look at the mess the world is in, and wonder if and when it’s going to all come crashing down. Environment-wise, I see that starting to happen already. I don’t have a lot of hope for the future, to be honest.

Being gay of course is yet another way I ‘don’t fit’ in. It’s more accepted now than it was, but there’s still the assumption that you’re straight unless you say otherwise. Even where there isn’t prejudice, we’re still in a tiny minority, out of synch with a relentlessly hetero world. And as an autistic, I never felt ‘in synch’ with other lesbians anyway. I have very little interaction with the lesbian community now. So I feel like I’m kind of out here on my own.

Then there’s being non-binary, and the pressure to ‘fit your gender’. My mother was a wonderful person, but to the day she died, she couldn’t grasp that I didn’t want to look or be ‘feminine’. Many others are the same. There is this expectation that you’re male or female, and sometimes desperate attempts to have you fit in to this binary, so they can treat you accordingly. But I don’t, and don’t want to either.

I’m also aromantic. When I finally stopped putting pressure on myself to enter into relationships, it was a huge relief. But most people seem to think that an intimate relationship is the only way to ‘happiness’ and ‘fulfilment’. I never found that. One of the few good parts about getting older is that people stop trying to match you up with others. I’m seen as ‘just another old person living alone’, rather than a pathetic loser who can’t get someone to love them.

Poverty is another way not to fit in. When you just can’t afford so much of what others have, the standard of living they assume as ‘normal’, you do feel out of it. This wasn’t how I assumed my life would go when I was younger. I don’t come from wealth or even the middle class, but there was an expectation of working hard, scrimping and saving, buying a modest house in the burbs, and Getting Ahead. It never happened. And it’s extremely unlikely it ever will. I’m out here on the margins, and it’s where I expect to stay.

Then there’s how I’m a thorough introvert in a very extrovert-dominated world. ‘Come out of your shell!’ ‘Why aren’t you talking?’ ‘You need to make more friends!’ And so on. How about just some peace and quiet? Is that really so much to ask? Other introverts will know of what I speak.

On top of these, there’s my various physical disabilities and illnesses, my CFS, arthritis, diabetes, wonky ankle, low thyroid… Whether I’ve had them for decades or acquired them more recently, they still serve to separate me from others.

These are the Big Things, but there are so many small ways I don’t fit in. Take drinks, for example. I’ve never liked coffee or tea, herb teas upset my stomach, and I’ve even given up coffee substitutes. Rest assured, I get plenty of fluids. But visiting people, I invariably get asked ‘would you like tea or coffee?’ As though these are the only possible choices. When I decline, they’re like ‘oh…. so... what do you drink then? Herb tea?’ They’re always puzzled when I say I prefer a nice cold water. (I don’t drink alcohol either.)

And take how I’m wanting to move back to the city, after many years away from it. There were reasons for leaving it, and good reasons to go back. But so many are wanting to move out of cities, it’s become almost a fashionable thing. I have news for them - the country isn’t as quiet as you’d think, and small town people aren’t always as friendly as city folks assume either. But the point here is that I am going against the tide. Again. 

And talking of housing, I’m also not into the current ‘tiny house’ thing. After decades of living in cramped spaces (poverty, remember?), I want more space, not less. I’m tired of things like having to edge sideways to get to the other side of my bed, or having to put away all my creative stuff in order to eat. Even exercise is problematic when there just isn’t enough ROOM. Enough. I want room to move, to live how I want, to do what I want. And I’m not going to get that in a tiny house.

I’m struggling to think of ways I do ‘go with the flow’, fit into the majority, etc. Being white is the obvious one. But I’m too aware of racism for a lot of white people either (I was in the NZ anti-racism movement back in the 80s). It’s similar with being a ‘Westerner’, and knowing the effects of imperialism, colonialism, etc, which most white people would rather not look at or even acknowledge. I can’t sympathise or identify with others solely on the basis of my European ancestry, even as I acknowledge the white privilege that goes with it.

There is a cumulative effect of course from all these differences. Most TV programs, ads, etc, even much of everyday life, leaves me feeling alienated, on edge, cynical, tired and disgusted, with a kind of existential pain and unfocused anger that I try very much not to burden others with. It’s not their fault that I’m different, but sometimes I wish they’d extend the same courtesy to me.

I don’t fit in, I know that I don’t fit in, that I’m an outsider wherever I go. But this is me. I can’t be anything else than what I am, I just wish sometimes that I wasn’t always the different one, in almost every category of humanity. I still have things to do, and people I care about, so I’m committed to staying on the planet, but it’s a daily trial.

So The Queen Is Dead

So the Queen is dead, and buried, and we have a new monarch.

I’ve been thinking on this for a while, and as usual, my thoughts have been varied.

On the one hand, there’s nothing wrong with people grieving or at least feeling unsettled. For anyone under seventy, including me, she had literally been on the throne our entire lives, and so there was a feeling of shock, of experiencing the end of an era, regardless of individual feelings about royalty. For me, it’s also triggered sad feelings and memories from when my mother died - they were of almost the same generation, and even looked somewhat alike.

It must be acknowledged that the Queen did have many good qualities. She avoided scandal in her private life (unlike a lot of her family), and performed her duties faithfully. She somehow managed to connect with a lot of people despite her privileged position. In person, she was apparently kind, fiercely intelligent, with a steel-trap memory and a great sense of humour. She was, in short, likeable, even admirable, as a person and a monarch.

I also feel that some of the criticism that’s been hurled her way is misplaced. British monarchs have very little real power, being heavily constricted by law, tradition and protocol. They reign but they do not rule. They can’t express any political opinions, and must approve new laws and governments. Even their speeches to the British Parliament are written by the government. It’s anyone’s guess what the Queen’s real political thoughts were, though it’s said that she despised Thatcher for supporting apartheid. Ultimately however she could change little.

As to the royal wealth, ‘The Crown’ and ‘the monarch’ are not quite the same thing. There are things like the Crown Jewels for instance, which the monarch only technically owns, and cannot dispose of at will. The Royal Estates are vast, but they’re actually controlled by a government-appointed committee, with the monarch receiving around 15% of the income, an arrangement which dates back centuries and is part of the complex web of restrictions around the monarch and their family. They’re bound up pretty tight really. I kind of pity them.

And yes, I watched at least some of the processions, funeral, etc, as least as far as possible without depriving myself of too much sleep from the far side of the world. Because, ya know, it’s history, I’m a history geek, and besides nobody does pomp and ceremony quite like the British. As well as being colourful, it was almost funny, all the elaborate parades, drumbeats, fancy uniforms and the like.

Okay, that’s the ‘nicey-nice’ hand. Now for the other stuff.

I don’t share the Queen’s love of tradition or her deep faith, and despite my love of history (or perhaps because of it) and my fascination with the pomp and ceremony, I’m definitely not in favour of monarchies. I consider them rigidly outdated, an encrusted frozen relic of the past which we could easily do without. While I have nothing personal against any of the Royals, I’d be perfectly fine with them becoming just ‘Mr and Ms Windsor who live down the street’. At the moment, there doesn’t seem to be the political or public will to make this happen, at least in Britain itself. The conversation in Britain’s former colonies about becoming republics, however, is well under way.

I think it’s highly likely, indeed inevitable, that by the end of this century if not before, many of these countries, including New Zealand, will become republics. The Queen‘s popularity delayed this process but won’t ultimately prevent it. It will be interesting to see how the new King affects the conversation, given that he excites nowhere near that level of admiration. Even the most ardent royalist must find it hard to enthuse about an irritable old man who once said he wanted to be a tampon. The only thing I find commendable about him is his championing of environmental causes long before it was fashionable. The PR campaign to rehabilitate his reputation has already started of course, but I don’t know how much effect it will ultimately have.

Speaking of PR, I don’t like either how royalty, like movie stars, have pretty much replaced religion as ‘the opiate of the masses’. They’ve become magazine fodder for the credulous, candy-floss for the mind, as a necessary part of keeping their popularity and with it their lifestyle. They may hate the loss of privacy, but I don’t doubt they know why it’s necessary. As long as people are oohing and aahing over pretty pictures of royal children and warring princes, swallowing it all down like candy, few of them are going to wonder if royalty is even needed in the first place.

I also want to say that even though (or perhaps because) I’m a person of European descent in a former British colony, I detest colonisation and the damage it’s done, a process that even if it wasn’t exactly ‘by’ royalty, was often supported by them, and done ‘in their name’. I believe much more dialogue about colonisation and its results is necessary, and that anti-monarchists, especially non-white peoples who have suffered at the hands of colonial powers, are entitled both to express their opinion and demand change and I don’t think they should be silenced or arrested for doing so.

Then there’s all the stuff about her ‘doing her duty’. But I’ve noticed people are always vague about what that duty WAS. When I look at what she actually did, I see a lot of opening of new hospital wings or schools, a lot of walkabouts, a lot of meeting the public and shaking hands. She entertained foreign dignitaries, hosted garden parties and formal dinners, handed out many a knighthood and medal, and supported multiple charities. She read lots of government papers and kept a finger on the ‘issues’ of the world, even if she couldn’t actually *do* anything about it. She made appropriate speeches at the appropriate time. And so on. In short, she was rather good at being a figurehead.

But we can always do without a figurehead.

Where to from here, then? In New Zealand, the conversation about us someday becoming a republic is ongoing. It’s not urgent, but it’s also true that we don’t feel the attachment to Britain we once did. When I was a child, you could still hear people talking about ‘The Old Country’, and ‘Home’, but that generation is long gone. We consider ourselves New Zealanders now, wherever our ancestors came from (and of course many are not of British origin), and are evolving a culture of our own, one which is increasingly influenced by Māori culture. I find this exciting.

So it will be interesting to see what happens in the coming years. But we can start with increasing those discussions about colonisation and how to heal the wounds from it. That is something we can and urgently need to do. There’s a lot of hurt to be dealt with, a lot of reparation to be made. Getting started on this is way more important than royalty itself.