A Voice For the Voiceless
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> Women's Repro...
> Women at Risk
> Cultural Taboos
> Mansala
For Mansala, the history of her prolapse starts at the age of 15, when she married and moved into her husband’s home.
For the last 35 years, Mansala has maintained a regular routine: wake up at 4 am to cook, clean the house, feed the animals, and do the laundry. At 1 p.m., she finishes her housework and heads to the jungle and the fields to graze the animals and haul heavy loads of grass, wood, and water.
For five days a month, when Mansala has her menstrual cycle, her routine varies slightly. This is because in the region where Mansala is from, cultural beliefs maintain that women are ritually impure at the time of menstruation. Women who are menstruating must therefore be secluded and isolated from contact with food and other humans, lest they anger or offend the gods.
The small huts where women from these communities go during their monthly periods are called chaupadi. They can vary greatly in size and condition. The worst of these chaupadi are not even tall enough for a person to stand, and barely big enough for a few to sleep close together. Often, they are constructed of simple twigs and mud, and sometimes they double as animal sheds. In these cases, women are made to eat and sleep in the company of their family’s livestock.
In many of these communities, menstruating women are seen as the source of curses, so they are confined to the chaupadi until their cycles are finished. They cannot cook, so they eat what their family serves them: often left-over rice, or perhaps a few roti.
The physical and social isolation that women experience in the chaupadi is not only psychologically traumatic, but it can also be fatal. It is not uncommon for women to fall ill from snake bites while staying in the chaupadi. Recently, a 14-year-old girl died of diarrhea while she was confined to a chaupadi: Nobody would help her or take her for medical care, because they were afraid they would become impure if they touched a menstruating girl.
Mansala’s situation is not as severe. She says that because she has no mother-in-law (and mothers-in-law are quite frequently the enforcers of such traditional practices), her husband is lenient. Her chaupadi is attached to the house, and large enough to hold a bed that her husband built for her. She says that if she had had a mother-in-law, she would have to sleep on the ground.
With the benefits of not having a mother-in-law, however, also came the hardships. Traditionally, a menstruating woman must stay in the chaupadi all day and all night, so that she doesn’t risk spreading her impure status throughout the community. Mansala, however, does not get the “luxury” of rest during her period. Because there are no other women in the household and her husband refuses to pick up any of the chores other than cooking, Mansala is forced to work in the fields during the days of her period and return to the chaupadi at night.
Mansala, like most women in her village, also gave birth in a chaupadi. Notions of female impurity correspond to menstruation and birth. Women are thought to be polluted at the time of child delivery and for 10 days following a birth.
Birth attendants are not available in Mansala’s village and men do not attend to births (nor can they enter the chaupadi), so she gave birth alone. For 10 days she remained alone in the chaupadi, where no one was allowed to visit or touch her or her newborn child. Her husband cooked for her, but Mansala was otherwise left to do her own washing, bathing, and childcare.
Mansala recently underwent a successful hysterectomy to treat an advanced stage of uterine prolapse, from which she had been suffering for two years. She was identified and sponsored for the surgery by an non-governmental organization (NGO) in her home district of Jazarkot in the Far West. But qualified teams of gynecologists, surgeons, and anesthetists at reputable hospitals are not available in the Far West, so NGOs have opted to send women like Mansala to Nepalgunj, where the hospital accepts patients from NGOs on a voucher system.
It took Mansala three days to reach the hospital – one day in a bus and two days of walking. Although she suffered from back pain, heavy bleeding, and difficulty walking because her uterus protruded from her body, Mansala had no choice but to make the journey.
Although Mansala is now cured of the pain that she suffered from a prolapsed uterus, she has not been relieved of the hard work and isolation that she suffered for years at home and in the chaupadi. Back
Mansala
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For Mansala, the history of her prolapse starts at the age of 15, when she married and moved into her husband’s home.
For the last 35 years, Mansala has maintained a regular routine: wake up at 4 am to cook, clean the house, feed the animals, and do the laundry. At 1 p.m., she finishes her housework and heads to the jungle and the fields to graze the animals and haul heavy loads of grass, wood, and water.
For five days a month, when Mansala has her menstrual cycle, her routine varies slightly. This is because in the region where Mansala is from, cultural beliefs maintain that women are ritually impure at the time of menstruation. Women who are menstruating must therefore be secluded and isolated from contact with food and other humans, lest they anger or offend the gods.
The small huts where women from these communities go during their monthly periods are called chaupadi. They can vary greatly in size and condition. The worst of these chaupadi are not even tall enough for a person to stand, and barely big enough for a few to sleep close together. Often, they are constructed of simple twigs and mud, and sometimes they double as animal sheds. In these cases, women are made to eat and sleep in the company of their family’s livestock.
In many of these communities, menstruating women are seen as the source of curses, so they are confined to the chaupadi until their cycles are finished. They cannot cook, so they eat what their family serves them: often left-over rice, or perhaps a few roti.
The physical and social isolation that women experience in the chaupadi is not only psychologically traumatic, but it can also be fatal. It is not uncommon for women to fall ill from snake bites while staying in the chaupadi. Recently, a 14-year-old girl died of diarrhea while she was confined to a chaupadi: Nobody would help her or take her for medical care, because they were afraid they would become impure if they touched a menstruating girl.
Mansala’s situation is not as severe. She says that because she has no mother-in-law (and mothers-in-law are quite frequently the enforcers of such traditional practices), her husband is lenient. Her chaupadi is attached to the house, and large enough to hold a bed that her husband built for her. She says that if she had had a mother-in-law, she would have to sleep on the ground.
With the benefits of not having a mother-in-law, however, also came the hardships. Traditionally, a menstruating woman must stay in the chaupadi all day and all night, so that she doesn’t risk spreading her impure status throughout the community. Mansala, however, does not get the “luxury” of rest during her period. Because there are no other women in the household and her husband refuses to pick up any of the chores other than cooking, Mansala is forced to work in the fields during the days of her period and return to the chaupadi at night.
Mansala, like most women in her village, also gave birth in a chaupadi. Notions of female impurity correspond to menstruation and birth. Women are thought to be polluted at the time of child delivery and for 10 days following a birth.
Birth attendants are not available in Mansala’s village and men do not attend to births (nor can they enter the chaupadi), so she gave birth alone. For 10 days she remained alone in the chaupadi, where no one was allowed to visit or touch her or her newborn child. Her husband cooked for her, but Mansala was otherwise left to do her own washing, bathing, and childcare.
Mansala recently underwent a successful hysterectomy to treat an advanced stage of uterine prolapse, from which she had been suffering for two years. She was identified and sponsored for the surgery by an non-governmental organization (NGO) in her home district of Jazarkot in the Far West. But qualified teams of gynecologists, surgeons, and anesthetists at reputable hospitals are not available in the Far West, so NGOs have opted to send women like Mansala to Nepalgunj, where the hospital accepts patients from NGOs on a voucher system.
It took Mansala three days to reach the hospital – one day in a bus and two days of walking. Although she suffered from back pain, heavy bleeding, and difficulty walking because her uterus protruded from her body, Mansala had no choice but to make the journey.
Although Mansala is now cured of the pain that she suffered from a prolapsed uterus, she has not been relieved of the hard work and isolation that she suffered for years at home and in the chaupadi. Back