I received a lovely crimson present this morning. Yes, it is that wonderful, womanly time of the month.
You may be wondering why I am broadcasting this over the internet. No, I do not love to shock people and no I do get some strange kick out of grossing you out. I simply realized what it feels like to be shunned and excluded for being a woman.
Because I am on my period, I am not allowed to eat at the table with everyone else. Instead, I have to eat on the ground. I am not allowed to enter the kitchen under any circumstances, even for a glass of water. I am not even allowed to directly use the water from the tap outside because water from the same source is brought into the kitchen for cleaning and cooking.
I feel sort of like I have leprosy.
There is, however, an upside to all of this. I am waited on hand and foot (which, in my case, is not that different from how I have been treated in this house since I arrived) – I want a glass of water, all I do is ask; my breakfast of toast and peanut butter is made for me, my tea is brought to my room… the works. My sister explained that way back when, “that time of the month” was the only break most women would ever get. For 3 days (that’s the amount of time we have to stay out of the kitchen), women get to relax and have others do their work. I suppose that in villages, especially, this is a nice mini-vacation for women.
But, conversely, this “vacation” feels a lot like ostracism. I know that the deep seated reason behind these rules is that a woman on her period is seen as unclean, and anything she touches will thus also become unclean. A woman on her period cannot do puja (Hindu prayer) or get tikka (the red dot on her forehead which is essentially a blessing). She is too unclean to enter into any type of interaction with God.
So, for the next 3 days, I will eat my meals on the ground and ask others to get me my water. I will take my womanly vacation. But I will do so with shame and embarrassment because everyone, including my “brother” knows that I am unclean right now.
