When I first learned about menstruation in the American Girl Care and Keeping of You book, I was fascinated. I became obsessed with the topic of menstruation, pads, tampons, ovulation — you name it. It was something that I looked forward to. I wished daily that my period would come soon, and I even religiously drank green tea with whole milk because that was “supposed” to make your period come sooner. Unfortunately, menstruation is still a taboo topic for some families and cultures. This is frustrating because menstruation is a normal aspect of life, and everyone deserves to be educated in a healthy way about it; otherwise, it can be a very frightening, confusing, and shameful experience.

Uma Bista is a Nepalese artist who uses photography to explore themes of gender inequality in all aspects of life. Her “Stay Home Sisters” piece is a series of photographs accompanied by a poem that explores the artist’s relationship with menstruation. She brings to light the shame, emotional and physical pain, and generational trauma that is connected to the Chhaupadi tradition in which a menstruator is expected to sleep separately from their family during their period. It is believed that the menstruator brings bad luck to the home and displeases the gods, so they are not to be near the non-menstruators.

During the first 5-11 days of a woman’s menstrual cycle in which she gets her period, she is expected to sleep in a small hut around 60-80 feet away from her family house. Often this hut is only 3 by 6 feet in dimension, just large enough for a small fire to keep warm and a spot for her to lay down (Kadariya). The huts the women stay in during the night are too often lacking in basic amenities such as toilets, windows, electricity, and even warm blankets and mattresses, denying the persons basic dignities. And when the Chhaugoth hut is unavailable; then the women are sent to sleep with the livestock or outside (Amatya). Chhaupadi originated from the superstition that during menses, a person is “dirty” and will bring misfortune to the family because the blood is cursed and makes the gods angry. Therefore, they are banished from the home at night, cannot touch shared food, cannot worship during the time, and cannot touch cattle or eat dairy (The Himalayan Times). Additionally, their usual indoor chores are exchanged for outdoor tasks. They must wash their clothes and sheets every day and travel to an unshared tap far away from the house to do so (Gaestel).

Without a doubt, this practice is not only harmful to the person’s dignity, self-esteem, and relationship with her body; but the practice is also physically harmful. In 2023, a 21-year-old female died due to smoke inhalation while sleeping in the Chhau because her blanket caught fire and there wasn’t any ventilation. Other incidences of death have included being bitten by a snake, physical and sexual assault, and freezing temperatures at night (Vaughn). Due to the poor sanitary conditions of the huts, infections of the urinary tract and vagina are common. While disposable pads are available in Nepal, families that live in rural areas, which are more apt to practice Chhaupadi, often cannot afford disposable pads, so menstruators wear a reusable cloth called a taalo. Nepali girls have reported feeling lonely and finding it difficult to sleep during their time in the Chhaugoth (Amatya). Practitioners have also reported high amounts of anxiety during their menses for fear of bringing bad luck to their families (Rothchild). Yet despite these negative effects of the practice, it was found that 72% of the girls and women in Nepal still practice menstrual taboos to varying degrees (Amatya). The Chhaupadi practice was banned in 2005, but unfortunately, it was not criminalized and enforced until 2022. And even though it is criminalized, the punishment for forcing a female into exile is a minimal 3 months of jail time and paying 3,000 rupees – $30 (Vaughn). The police rarely enforce the law, and even if they do, the courts have a difficult time verifying evidence that someone had forced a family member into exile, so the perpetrator is often released (The Himalayan Times).

Knowing all of this now, we understand that Uma Bista’s work is not only a sad homage to her and other persons’ experience of the Chhaupadi practice but also carries a tone of anger.

We are now going to take a close look at Bista’s photographs and see what we may interpret from them.

Uma’s works are tinted with red not only for the obvious nod to menstrual blood but also to express her rage against the bodily pain she experiences and the emotional pain she feels. In her first image, Uma introduces us to her photographic series. She sets the mood: the darkness of the image suggests a melancholy feeling yet the silhouette of the figure appears relaxed, perhaps ponderous, as they stare into the sky. This lines up with the narrator’s first line in Bista’s poem, “I am resting on my bed, My body has become unconscious. Listless, I wish this body would disappear….”.

The second image is the most resonant in my opinion. Consider what emotions are evoked from this photograph. The image is fully red tinted, and a drop of water sits on the top of the figure’s hand, alluding to the arrival of blood and the tears of anger and sadness the narrator and Uma feel. The hand is flexed, the tension causes the skin to pit between the tendons, causing the viewer to feel unnerved at this unnatural hand positioning. It is suggestive of the emotional, spiritual, and physical malnourishment practitioners of Chhaupadi often experience.

The third image has a more serene tone. Bista depicts the hands of a young girl, seen with chipped blue nail polish, holding the sides of a woman’s belly. It appears to be daytime. This lines up with the second stanza of the poem in which the narrator’s 7-year-old niece tries to comfort the narrator out of her physical pain. The artist expresses hope that menstruation for the younger generations will become normalized, where the focus will be on bringing comfort and empathy during menstruation rather than fear.

The fourth image is notably darker. The figure appears to be fading into the darkness, dirty and silent, almost ghost-like. The image reflects what the narrator and Uma are angry at: the distance the narrator’s mother takes from her, the feeling of isolation, the feeling of being dirty and “demonized,” no longer welcome.

The fifth image appears to be shot during the night while the figure is isolated in her Chhaugoth. A hand searches for comfort in the sheets, finding warmth where it can. In South Asia, bangles are usually worn by married women (Zulfiqar). A married woman seeking warmth by herself in the sheets because her husband sleeps separately during her time of discomfort.

The last image carries multiple meanings for me. The rain in the image represents the flow of blood, but can also represent sadness, or the beauty of renewal and the potential to “wash away” the Chhaupadi tradition. The floral silhouette conveys a sense of loneliness yet beauty to the image. It alludes to the truth that menstruation is a natural aspect of life. Or perhaps the victim of exile is the flower, and she is wilting under the stress. Or that women, often represented by florals, have trouble thriving in a society that demonizes an aspect of their health. The vagueness yet chaotic nature of this image brings a climax to Uma Bista’s series. The complexities of her feelings for the Chhaupadi practice, the rage, and the defeat she feels. It is dark and indistinct to help the viewer feel the impact of her work and reflect on what it means.

As the world becomes more aware of the importance of menstruation education and acceptance, there is hope that menstrual taboo traditions can continue to disappear. Bista contributes to the conversation of menstruation acceptance through her work and has beautifully explored her complicated relationship with menstruation through these six photographs. I encourage you to reflect on your knowledge and emotions regarding menstruation regardless of whether you are a menstruator or not.

 

Bibliography

Amatya, Prabisha, Saruna Ghimire, Karen E. Callahan, Binaya Kumar Baral, and Krishna C. Poudel.            “Practice and Lived Experience of Menstrual Exiles (Chhaupadi) among Adolescent Girls in Far-                 Western Nepal.” PLOS ONE, December 10, 2018. https://journals.plos.org/plosone/article?                       id=10.1371%2Fjournal.pone.0208260.

Gaestel, Allyn, and Allison Shelley. “Nepal: Chaupadi Culture and Violence against Women.” Pulitzer            Center, February 5, 2013. https://pulitzercenter.org/stories/nepal-chaupadi-culture-and-violence-            against-women.

The Himalayan News Service. “15 Girls, Women Died in Chhausheds in 13 Yrs.” The Himalayan Times,         March 24, 2019. https://thehimalayantimes.com/nepal/15-girls-women-died-in-chhausheds-in-                13-yrs.

Kadariya, Shanti, and Arja R Aro. “Chhaupadi Practice in Nepal – Analysis of Ethical Aspects: MB.”            Dovepress: Taylor and Francis Group, June 29, 2015. https://www.dovepress.com/chhaupadi-                     practice-in-nepal-ndash-analysis-of-ethical-aspects-peer-reviewed-fulltext-article-MB.

Rothchild, Jennifer, and Priti Shrestha Piya. “Rituals, Taboos, and Seclusion: Life Stories of Women            Navigating Culture and Pushing for Change in Nepal.” National Library of Medicine, July 25, 2020.            https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/books/NBK565614/.

Vaughn, Emily. “Menstrual Huts Are Illegal in Nepal. So Why Are Women Still Dying in Them?” NPR:            Goats and Soda, December 17, 2019.                                                                                                                               https://www.npr.org/sections/goatsandsoda/2019/12/17/787808530/menstrual-huts-are-illegal-            in-nepal-so-why-are-women-still-dying-in-them.

Zulfiqar, Anila. “Exploring the Symbolic Representation of the Social, Religious and Ritualistic Aspects of          South Asia through Glass Bangles.” Pakistan Social Sciences Review (2022).