My Earthquake Kit

If you have been a West Coast resident for any length of time, you’ve surely been warned to be prepared for the “Big One.” I’ll admit that after the tsunami gob smacked Southeast Asia, the Coast Mountains seemed to me less like appendages of a snow-capped supernatural paradise and more like dirty teeth poised chew my city to shreds.

When I expressed my concern in the wide and deep social circles of Lotusland, I found myself labelled a political Judas, a paranoid and a party pooper. The top three cries of apathy were:

All that emergency preparedness stuff is “fear mongering.”

I don’t prepare because that creates bad vibrations and I don’t’ draw that negative energy to myself.

You’ll ‘git’ jinxed.

Could my new-found intention of gathering a three-day supply of water, first aid, and rations that tasted like cardboard, be a karmic no-no?

Apparently, Yes-yes. Some idealists that I talked to believe that to counteract the seismic experts’ prediction of a destructive earthquake, we West Coasters just need to send out positive vibes!

In a free community course called the Neighborhood Emergency Preparedness Program (NEPP) I found the Reality-Based Safety People. This select group included retired survivalists, the newly immigrated, social workers, photo-realist inspired painters and former militiamen familiar with methods of swimming a crocodile-infested river to reach a helicopter ladder.

We learned to make earthquake kits (the “Car Kit,” an “Office Kit” and the “Grab-and-Go Bag,” —the essential earthquake-pajama-party, tote-from-home kit). We store the mother lode of all kits in the social worker’s garage.

Creativity is key to keeping this fun, so here’s our Ideal Neighborhood Earthquake Kit:

• 4 litres of water per person per day (120 litres in our garage requires an annual refill party and salmon bbq)
• Food (dehydrated fruits, sushi, beer, ice cream and that cardboard cracker with a five-year shelf life)
• Shelter (tarp, tent, emergency blankets, foamies, or at least a garbage bag to crawl into)
• Pony (rides for children’s entertainment while in community relief centre)
• Flashlight (the hand cranked Eternolight is cheap and doesn’t require batteries)
• Money including coins for when pay phones work again and for gambling during boring periods
• Essential medication (one-week supply including water purification tablets and cigarettes)
• Portable toilet
• Hand cranked radio, Ipod and/or battery-operated stereo system complete with Earthquake Special DJ Mix
• Shoes (heavy enough to walk in broken glass and supple enough to groove with friends in primal-healing trance dance)
• Personal toiletry items (liquid mouthwash rather than toothpaste, which requires water; baby wipes for cleaning hands and, well, you know)
• Hummer-type protective cage to confine frightened pets
• Crowbar
• Wet bar
• First Aid Kit and instruction booklet (and nerves of steel)

Significantly, one of the safest places to be during an earthquake is in the air. Seaplane travel avoids earthbound obstacles and cracked tarmac. So, I am also packing enough coin to get airborne.

After the “Big One” the Provincial Emergency Program (PEP) suggests that you remain calm and plan on being without rescue or medical services for 72 hours. Your first help after an earthquake may come from family, friends and from those creating positive vibrations amidst the shards of glass.