PROFILE
Andrea Petersen is from Scottsvile, a working class neighbourhood in the Western Cape. She is a postgraduate student in the English Departement at the University of the Western Cape. Andrea has been a part of the Creative Writing group at UWC for two years and through this she came in contact with the Taking Liberties project. She writes mostly poetry and short stories.
CREATIVE WORK
‘n Huldeblyk
My mother removes
her beige pumps.
They smell like
cheap plastic, and
reveal her worn-out
feet decorated with
callouses that look like
red pins placed on maps
on countries you’ve
visited and countries you
wish to see.
My mother’s feet have
walked. Walked across
borders and cities.
Walked to my principal’s
office when my dad didn’t
pay my school fees and
I couldn’t attend my metric ball.
Her feet have walked to Shoprite
on Saturday mornings and
walked back with bags full of
chocolate, and rusks, and
Joko tea.
They’ve walked across an
aisle to offer her life to a
man that looked like her
dead father who watched her
while she slept.
My mother smells sharp;
like acetone.
If you stand too close
For too long she
becomes nauseating.
My mother smells of
too much.
Her Red Door is always
applied too severely, an
overdose of desperation.
My mother smells like
cheap plastic.
Plastic that’s been
burnt.
Thrown away.
Used to wrap up leftovers.
My mother smells heavy.
Heavy like the air on a
winter morning when the
clouds are preparing to
burst with rain.
My mother will burst and
break and suffocate under the weight
of her callouses.
REFLECTION
Writing for Liberty, to me, is an opportunity to be honest and forthcoming, without any pretence. ‘n Huldeblyk is a poem honouring my mother, just as she is. Her feet and the image of her walking becomes an important image in the poem. I tried to juxtapose the image of her walking, which to me has associations with freedom and adventure, with images of hardship and struggle. Through the poem I wanted to depict the possibilities, the possibilities of visiting countries and crossing borders. These possibilities are contrasted against images of desperation and poverty. I wanted to be honest. I wanted to be honest about who she is, who she is to me and who she is to herself. In that honesty I find my own personal freedom. And I am able to provide this character of ‘my mother’ the freedom to be just as she is.
