All Shook Up

by Annie Scott
April 16, 2010

Here’s what’s going on in a land far away but not so far apart from the Mitten …

All I wanted was a snack. We were still two hours from Easter dinner and I just wanted a little sweet treat to tide me over. I walked downstairs and into the kitchen, opened the cupboard…and then froze.

Out of nowhere, there was a bizarre, grumbling sound and the strangest sensation of instability underneath my feet. The dishes started rattling loudly in the cupboard, which caused me to leap into the center of the kitchen, away from the menacing dishes that threatened to jump out and break at any moment. I felt as though I was standing on the trick floor of a carnival funhouse.

Not yet accustomed to the moving ground, I stood momentarily puzzled and wondered if the sprawling military base behind our house was doing some crazy new kind of artillery drills (a very common occurrence here). But it seemed like a lot more shaking than the regular bombing practice. The mystery was quickly answered by my fiancé calling from upstairs.

“Earthquake.”

He said it so calmly and matter-of-factly, but it failed to put me at ease.

Unsure of what to do, I held my frozen pose in the middle of the kitchen as the ground continued to roll. It felt like it went on forever. It didn’t feel like the other three earthquakes I had experienced. This was a weird one.

In a moment of panic, as the shaking continued for nearly a minute, I made a mad dash upstairs to join my fiancé and our black lab. They seemed relatively serene. I wondered if I was the only one alarmed. I’d figured the dog would at least give some sort of validating, anxious reaction. But no, she hardly seemed to notice, and sat quietly with her master. Apparently I was the only one upset. I still had no clue what I should be doing.

The trembling stopped as suddenly as it had started. But my emotional shakiness lingered.

In my mind I was picturing the devastating scenes from the earthquakes in Haiti and Chile. I worried that my instincts had been the complete opposite of what one is supposed to do during an earthquake.

I guess it takes a little time to get comfortable with them. When we learned that it was a magnitude 7.2 earthquake — stronger than the one in Haiti — I was filled with gratitude for the fact that our quake’s epicenter was just south of the U.S.-Mexico border in a relatively remote area and not in the middle of one of the more populous cities. Still, the quake was the largest in Southern California in two decades. It was felt by more than 20 million people, even as far away as Las Vegas. I felt justified in being a little freaked out about it. Which is why I was amazed that everyone else I talked to was so nonchalant.

Case in point: arriving at work the next day I was greeted as follows: “So! I guess you’re officially a Southern Californian now. What’d you think of that earthquake? Were you scared?” Laughter. “Eh, you’ll get used to it.”

As if this was just the same as one of the little piddly ones you can barely feel.

My boss found it extremely amusing that I had responded to the quake by running upstairs. “You realize that’s probably the worst thing you could have done, right?” I told her that I knew we were supposed to find a doorway to stand under but I hadn’t had the presence of mind or training to do so. She just laughed and shook her head.

Apparently carefree joking about earthquakes is all part of living out here. One coworker actually expressed dismay that she hadn’t gotten to feel it because she was driving at the time. I didn’t get it.

More than 1,000 aftershocks have resulted from the Mexicali earthquake on Easter Sunday, at least 12 of them registering magnitude 5.0 or greater. This on the heels of the disasters in Haiti and Chile. And, of course, we’ve all just seen another devastating earthquake in western China. Together, these three have claimed more than 230,000 lives. It really makes you wonder if there’s something bigger brewing.

The geophysicists at Caltech have been saying that the rate of earthquakes is likely picking back up again after a relatively quiet past decade. They’ve also said they can’t pinpoint any specific cause for this uptick.

But if you ask typical residents out here if they’re worried about the Big One, most will just chuckle and say, “Nah. You just get used to it.”

I’m not so sure I will.

The one earthquake that nearly all Southern Californians I’ve met seem to regard with respect and harrowing memories is the infamous “Northridge” quake of 1994. Rated a 6.7 magnitude, the Northridge quake produced the strongest ground motions ever recorded in an urban area in North America. Its significance and high damage and death toll largely were due to the fact that it was the first quake to hit directly below an urban area since 1933. The Northridge quake collapsed sections of major freeways outside of Los Angeles and caused major damage to a number of parking structures, office and apartment buildings. “That one,” said a friend, “was violent.”

But for the most part, long-time residents here shrug off the warnings. Many seem to embody that laidback ideal of “whatever happens happens — the important thing is to be prepared.”

Preparation! That had to be the key to the locals’ indifference. They were so unimpressed by these earthquakes because they were all ready with a 72-hour quake kit, “just in case.” I don’t have an earthquake kit, but I was thrilled to learn that my fiancé does. (Would have been nice to know!) These folks seem to know when to go stand in a doorway, and when it’s not necessary. They’ve had a lifetime of real-life earthquake drills to help them prepare. It’s similar to our Midwesterner’s ability to “just know” when it’s time to go down to the basement and stop tempting tornado fate.

We all have shake-ups and earthquakes, large and small, to deal with in our lives. The current uncertainty that pervades our world makes certain the fact that there will be more to come. But the difference that Southern Californians seem to grasp so well is that whatever happens happens, and as long as you’re prepared and don’t overreact, you’ll be fine. You can even laugh about it the next day.

Shrug it all off with a laugh, but keep that little quake kit at the ready. Just in case.

Annie Scott lives and works in San Diego and sends dispatches back to her beloved Michigan.