Chaupadi: The affliction of menses in Nepal.

One of the most difficult issues I encountered during my time as a youth volunteer with Volunteer Services Overseas (VSO; ) in Nepal was the treatment of menstruating women. Perhaps it was because it affected me directly, and I was given a rare insight into life as a woman in rural Nepal. Despite being forewarned of the attitudes I would encounter, I was shocked by just how strongly I was touched by them. (See Fig 1, Fig 2.)

Fig 1

An area within the mountain village of Laharepipal, in the Baglung district of Nepal. One of the many villages VSO was stationed in this year.

Fig 2

Personal illustration of a young village girl.

In many areas of Nepal, particularly undeveloped mountainous regions, women are considered impure when menstruating. For a week every month these women become untouchable. They must eat their meals separately, make no physical contact with other people or with water sources (I was forbidden to touch the tap), and must sleep with little or no bedding. In some areas, women are expected to sleep outside in a tiny hut called a goth until they are clean again. This custom is called chaupadi, derived from two Hindu words: chau, meaning menstruation, and padi, meaning women. The Nepal Supreme Court banned chaupadi in 2005, but government regulation does not reach remote western regions.

During the winter in the mountain villages, temperatures at night drop below freezing. Many women and young girls suffer, and even die, from health problems caused by sleeping in dirty, cold conditions. Exposure, increased vulnerability to wild animals and snakebites, and higher risks of rape are just a few dangers faced by women practicing chaupadi. Exact statistics about the number of women who still observe the tradition, and the deaths caused by it, are unavailable (United Nations [UN], 2011). This is partly because the segregation of these women and girls prevents the involvement of doctors, and partly because of the stigma attached to female gynecological issues. According to a UN report in 2011, within the district of Accham, 95% of women were practicing chaupadi (UN, 2011). There are now awareness programs in place in such areas that aim to educate teenagers and advocate for women’s rights.

I found it hard to accept that chaupadi is the way of life for so many women in Nepal. Young girls are expected to fulfil their natural role as a mother, yet the very bodily function that allows this miracle of motherhood is condemned as shameful and dirty. This seemed wildly unfair and contradictory to me. I was upset that it was so casually accepted as part of village life.

I can now see exactly why the lowly social status of women is perpetuated, when daughters grow up to be ashamed of their own nature. Girls practicing chaupadi will stop attending school every month during this time of personal isolation, therefore sustaining the inequality in education and the stigma surrounding periods. This is due in part to poor access to and knowledge about products such as sanitary pads. There is a general lack of education on menstrual hygiene in Nepal, which is a direct result of persistent traditional beliefs and practices (Bhatta et al., 2013). Girls are often scared of being in public while menstruating, in case they dirty themselves or anything they touch.

The practice of chaupadi is dangerous because it breeds the idea that periods, and therefore womanhood, are negative, shameful things. While chaupadi exists, gender equality cannot. When I was living in the mountains I heard of a very alarming tradition, in which families believed the gods would bless them if a daughter was married before her first period, while she was still pure. Thankfully, this is a dying tradition.

My personal experience of this part of rural Nepali life was upsetting and confusing. I felt as if I had suddenly contracted a contagious and nasty disease like leprosy. My host mother, with whom I had been building a close relationship despite a language barrier, who laughed and smiled at me every time we spoke, and frequently touched my arm or shoulder in a sign of affection, suddenly would not come near me. My mattress and pillow were taken away, so I slept on a hard wooden board (thankfully I had brought a sleeping bag with me in anticipation) and I was not allowed in the kitchen. I could not touch my 2-year-old host brother, with whom I usually played every morning and night. Chaupadi was not strictly practiced in my host home—VSO does not place volunteers in chaupadi households—however, I did not need to be cast out at night to see how much the idea of it permeates Nepali life. I could not touch any water sources and was given my own plastic bucket to drink from, which would be filled for me by someone else who was “clean.” I very vividly remember sitting alone one night, eating my rice and lentils, listening to my host family laughing and talking together in the kitchen, and feeling a strong mixture of anger and hurt. I cannot fully put into words how it felt to suddenly be considered impure for something so beyond my control, and so fundamentally natural to my being. I was fighting against feeling ashamed and embarrassed, yet it was difficult while being treated in this way. I can understand now how young girls grew up feeling this sense of degradation when they are isolated from their family and friends, frightened to touch anything in case they make it unclean.

My natural urge was to refuse to participate in the practice, to tell the women of the village that it is dangerous to adhere to such customs. It was heartbreaking to see that the women believed themselves to be impure. I wanted to shout that I was no less of a person because my body did what it was supposed to do. But this is not the way to instigate change, especially when beliefs are so ingrained in a culture. I tried asking my host mother why she does it, and she simply replied, “It is the way it is. This is what we do.”

The element of fear involved with the practice, along with pressure from the community, are big parts of why the women continue to put themselves through chaupadi. Crop failure, death and disease, and water shortages have been blamed on women not strictly following the rules of the practice. Families believe that misfortune will be brought on them by the gods if a menstruating woman is allowed in the home or any religious places (Sauve, 2014). In the eyes of many in remote villages of western Nepal, ignoring chaupadi would bring ruin to everyone. Old beliefs die hard, even when rape and underage pregnancy are the tragic consequence (Gaelstel, 2013).

I also asked a couple of young Nepali men how they felt about girls who, due to medical problems, cannot menstruate properly, and are perhaps infertile. Their replies were particularly frustrating to hear: these women are not proper women, they are broken. Damned if you do, damned if you don’t, springs to mind. A bleak reflection of the view of women in Nepal.

Poor access to education and basic health care in remote regions means that social isolation is often the way in which all kinds of medical conditions are treated, particularly visible ones. I encountered a general distrust of Western medicine. Even my Nepali volunteer counterparts, all from well-educated backgrounds in Kathmandu, would rather not rely on prescribed medicines, but let nature take its course.

I would never claim that Western ways are necessarily the best ways, nor would I encourage anyone to cut themselves off from their heritage. However, there are certain dangerous practices, such as chaupadi, that must be addressed and questioned. One of my fellow volunteers discovered that boys at the local school throw stones at girls when they are menstruating. This is the kind of gender-based violence in Nepal that is learned and accepted. The stigma surrounding menstruation creates a culture of fear and rejection that translates directly into other aspects of life. Until there is a greater understanding of and better education on female health issues within Nepal, and indeed Western medicine, Nepali women cannot hope for a brighter future.