Earthquakes were not on my list of mental preparations for the move to Bangkok. And for good reason. As the holder of a partial Earth Science degree, I am fairly well versed in the science of tectonic plates and seismic activity. Bangkok falls well beyond any plate boundary. On a more anecdotal level, as the daughter of two southern Californian parents who lived through the 1971 San Fernando earthquake, I vividly remember my mom's stories of thinking the world was ending as the ground shook beneath her. Years later and far removed in Michigan, I also remember watching news of the 1994 Northridge earthquake trickle in as we waited to hear from extended family back in California. Of the many things my parents miss about life there, earthquakes were definitely not on that list.
So when the ground started shaking underneath me in the middle of my afternoon Year 9 debate on who should be held responsible for the deaths of Romeo and Juliet, I paused, told my students I was feeling faint and held the wall. The students too felt faint. And then I looked up to see trendy exposed pipes and light fixtures in the English breakout space sway rhythmically above me. Too slowly, the penny dropped.
Teachers came out of classrooms, doors were opened and students huddled under desks. Then the lockdown drill went off, shortly followed by the fire alarm and quickly followed by a security guard with a whistle who ushered everyone out of the building and onto the school's front field, temperature 38 degrees celsius. Most of the staff and many of the students remained on that field from roughly 13:45 to 16:30.
An eerie calm descended as the school's emergency procedures fell into place. Not that we'd practised for earthquakes. Students were sorted, accounted for and calmed. News trickled in from teachers who had the foresight to grab their phones on the way out the door. Myanmar. Bangkok's soft soil. A building collapse across the city. In our part of town, no notable damage was evident.
The business of getting students safely home began. Bangkok, already known for its punishing traffic, ground to a halt. An official government warning went out about the earthquake which compounded the chaos. Buildings were evacuated and with nowhere to go, people took to the streets. The convoy of school vehicles began their efforts; teachers handed students off to bus drivers, parents and nannies in the efforts to ensure everyone was safe. The one-way journey into town from school stretched from 45-minutes to 2-hours. But drivers kept on driving and students got home safely.
Teachers were dismissed as the final students made their way home where traffic only worsened. 2 hours turned into 3 and 4 and many of us decamped to the bar across the road. You can take the staff out of Britain... The ensuing drinks were calming balm for the soul and many people stayed hours into the evening. I eventually left when a group of my friends decided to brave the 10km walk down Sukhumvit Road, likely the country's most polluted, home.
Only living a 10-minute walk down the road, I returned home to check on Paul and Frank. In the midst of the earthquake, Paul thought he was having a medical episode when the kettle began swaying in front of him. Having only recently returned from London after a month of doctor's checkups, this was more than plausible. He only twigged the reality when he turned and the kitchen light was also dancing. He shrugged it off, checked his messages, including one from me via a friend at school, and then proceeded with his day.
Frank, in his infinite stress and anxiety, slept through the whole thing.
We later laughed about our parallel universes only a few hundred meters down the road from one another. Sadly, the news for those in Myanmar, for the building collapse in the Chatuchak part of the city was far more somber. For friends and families in the city, some went home to damage, structural faults and temporary displacement. The city remains in a sense of heightened alert and lots of questions remain. To say it's a strange, unsettling time would be putting it lightly. But we're also safe and sound and very grateful for that.
