Childhood Playground

Written by: Hannah Sampson

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[Model: Hannah Tayla Sampson; Photographer: I. Sampson]

The corrugated iron sheets, etched with the bite marks of brilliant shades of orange, shook rhythms into the air as the howling Cape Town wind blew through the shacks. Toddlers played in the rapidly drying muck and water surrounding their homes, drawing pictures in the sand with their tiny toes. Not far away, a few streets down, an unty adjusted her head scarf, peering in the tiny mirror near the front door, before jolting the door closed, leaving the glass in the door to echo its fright throughout the passages of the dilapidated house. She hobbled down the street with her clicking crutch to the corner shop to fetch her loaf of bread for the day. The blinding sun was unusually hot on this winter day. Barefoot children gallivanted from fields to houses in search of their imaginary treasure, at times being chased by the perilous insults and klaps of neighbours. They held out their hands at the entrance of the tuckshop, hoping their fingers would be caresses by the shiny coins of passers-by. When they each collected enough, they strolled confidently into the tuckshop, sauntering out triumphantly with the sweet juice of icy bompies dripping down their necks and arms and hands.

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The wafts of salt and vinegar from the local fishery sang in the air as men in blue overalls wiped their calloused and heavily oil- stained hands, breathing in the chilly evening air. Seasoned devotees of 7 de Laan switched on their magic boxes with the metal antennaes, before sinking into their sofas. A few jongsters, with tight, but sagging at the waist, jeans and gevaarlike Nikes lit cigarettes behind the corner tuckshop, breathing in deeply as much smoke as their slim entjies could pump. The once rowdy kids playing mischievously in the streets, began to look droopy eyed, scraping their shoes on the rocky tar. The sun was no longer that burning ball in the sky, but spilt some colour on the dusty clouds, plunging the horizon with a dirty watercolour orange, before sinking into its deep and frigid sleep…

Backyard [Model: Hannah Tayla Sampson; Photographer: I. Sampson]

As a creative from Cape Town I have an immense passion for my city and its unique aesthetics. Also, as someone who looks fondly back on her childhood, there have been many times when I have tried to situate and/ or utilize local locations and things which I have experienced and/ or have seen when I was a child, to write or produce creative media in my current pieces. I have such wonder in the unique aesthetic features of suburbs like Woodstock and Salt River as well as other old neighbourhoods that have become synonymous with the city of Cape Town. One may say I have an infatuation with all things vintage, but I just say I like “old stuff”. It is a pretty fascinating thought to imagine oneself holding an object, spat straight out of the mouth of history, for you to marvel at the remnants of the insides of that historical era. It is also quite something to imagine what sort of stories that object has seen and/ or participated in yet remaining a mere silent existing figure of history. My deep enjoyment for carrying “old stuff” into the present has spilled over into a couple of informal photoshoots I recently had. Inspired by both local locations and historical family relics, I attempted to capture and creatively exhibit a little bit of my childhood, as well as a few other things I recently came across, carrying something of the past into the present. I hope you enjoy!

Journey Through Time [Model: Hannah Tayla Sampson; Photographer: N. Sampson]