Valentine’s Day in the Land of Incest

A walk in the past

It’s Valentine’s Day and my husband is taking me to the land of incest, Karatara. I asked him to come here — I had a brother who sexually harassed me since age eight. He had mental problems, it wasn’t his fault.

We take a right on the tar road, past a sizeable liquor store, and dive into the village’s flat lands. Karatara is an ancient settlement in South Africa where woodcutter families were relocated long ago. It’s a village on a plateau, close to the foothills of the Outeniqua Mountains, nestled along the river that carries its name, on the edge of the Knysna Forest, in the Western Cape. My husband’s already been here for his documentary.

We drive by the community’s only food shop. In front of it are a couple of men hanging together. They all turn around to look at what’s coming with angst in their eyes. One has a head shaped like a bowling skittle and a protruding nose.

We park by the store. As we leave the car, my husband and I greet the men; they wave, then quickly disperse as we approach. We go inside the store to buy a fresh bottle of water. The air is stale and damp. Products are crammed in two rooms with no windows and almost no light if it wasn’t for the open door.