‘Tradition’ is broadly defined as a belief or custom that is passed between generations. It can be cultural, religious or something entirely different. It can be praised and celebrated and adapted over time, or it can be viewed as dated and misunderstood and forced upon people who would otherwise not participate. It can breed sorrow and guilt, fear or even pain. In many cases, it can be or do all of those things.
In some parts of Nepal, it’s Chhaupadi. Girls and women are made to live in makeshift huts while they’re menstruating out of the superstitious reasoning, and a tradition linked to Hinduism, that their blood is considered impure. The country’s top court ruled the practice illegal in 2005, but the decision hasn’t trickled over to the ex-Maoist district of Surkhet and Achham in the far west, only reachable by foot, where it began and remains widely observed.
Documentary photographer Poulomi Basu, currently based in New Delhi, witnessed the ritual firsthand. Last fall, after pairing up with the charity WaterAid, Basu, 31, made the two-day journey from Nepal’s capital, Kathmandu, to photograph girls and women subjected to Chhaupadi. Alongside a female community mobilizer, who made introductions and explained the project to those interested, Basu got to work.
Each girl and woman she met endured unique circumstances. They were banned from socializing and sharing food, forced away from public space and barred from using the main water source. Basu said some of them have been sexually assaulted in, or abducted from, the huts and other have died from asphyxiation or fire when trying to ward off the cold.
Basu met one girl who lived in a hut filled with books, trying to study in an environment that left her completely exposed. Another was in such pain that she had to crawl to the toilet outside. When it was time to eat, “her sister came and threw the food at her from a great distance.”
In one instance, Basu witnessed a traditional healer beating a girl in front of two dozen men. There was little she could do. “[This tradition] has an extremely high impact on women’s physical and mental health,” Basu tells TIME. “Their self-esteem is completely crushed.”
The way most communities in that area see it, breaking with tradition would bring bad luck. Some believe menstruating women could attract snakes if they entered someone’s house, or infuriate the gods if allowed inside a temple. “A menstruating woman is seen as someone really powerful and someone to be feared and shunned,” Basu explains. “They are untouchables.”
Traditions like these aren’t just found in remote lands anymore. In Kathmandu, during the Rishi Panchami festival, women venture out often at night to bathe themselves in animal dung and urine to “wash away”—and atone for—sins committed during menstruation out of the fear she will otherwise be reborn as a prostitute. “It’s the same in the city and the villages,” Basu says. “It’s just done in two different ways.”
Basu, who recently joined VII Photo’s mentor program, says change is coming slowly thanks to technology and school programs. But Chhaupadi is so ingrained in life there that female hygiene campaigns and government engagement won’t cut it in the long-term, she says. It’s a nationwide commitment to education at the community level—lessons for girls about their rights and lessons for boys so menstruation is not seen as taboo—that will have the most effect.
“Change can only come to these places once you make women act on it, when women become the main facilitators of change, when they have the empowerment and position to be able to enact it.”
Poulomi Basu is an award-winning documentary photographer based between India and the U.K.
Photographer Poulomi Basu investigates the ritual of Chhaupadi in Nepal, a cultural tradition that can breed sorrow and guilt, fear or even pain, for young girls and women alike
The following photographs were taken September 2013 in Kathmandu and Surkhet District, in Nepal. Women observing the ritual to wash away the sins committed during menstruation at the annual Rishi Panchami festival. Kathmandu.
The following photographs were taken September 2013 in Kathmandu and Surkhet District, in Nepal. Women observing the ritual to wash away the sins committed during menstruation at the annual Rishi Panchami festival. Kathmandu.
On the river’s edge by Pashupatinath Temple, women who observe Rishi Panchami wash themselves 365 times. Dressed in red petticoats, a sacred thread around their waists, they spend hours performing the ritual washing of their private parts, belly button, elbows, armpits, heart and head. The women finally cleanse their hair by smearing it with fresh buffalo dung, before washing it with cow urine and milk. Kathmandu.
Thousands of women line up at Pashupatinath Temple waters, typically at 3 a.m., ready to atone. They feel they may have touched a man by mistake, and have to do this because their ancestors did so. Kathmandu.
A mother and her daughters as they observe the ritual of Rishi Panchami. Kathmandu.
A young girl near the river as she observes Rishi Panchami. Kathmandu.
A group of women gather for final prayers during Rishi Panchami. Kathmandu.
“I don’t like being here," says Nandakala New Pane, 42. "I do not want to have to do this. I think it is a punishment from God.” Narsi village.
"I get scared of snakes. There is a village called Mumuri where a girl got bitten," says Thyra Khuri Bishwa Karma, 16. "When people come and see us at the Chhaupadi, I feel ashamed. I feel so ashamed.” Narsi village.
Traditional healers often use extreme verbal and physical abuse to heal young girls who are ill during menstruation, believing they are possessed by an evil spirit. Surkhet District.
"I wish sometimes my mother was here to take me home or give me medicines, especially when I am in pain. It’s dark, and there is no light. I feel so scared someone might come," says Radha Bishwa Karma, 16. Surkhet District.
“It is very difficult to stay away from my children," says Jamuna Bishwa Karma, 25. "One of them is still breastfeeding. My other son cries when I am away from him for days.” Surkhet District.
“I was in Gujarat, in India, working during my first year of menstruation. I didn’t observe Chhaupadi there. Things are different here. The first time I went into a Chhaupadi, I was scared of snakes. But now, more than snakes, I am scared of men. I am scared of getting kidnapped," says Mangu Bika, 14, who shares a shed with Chandra Tiruva, 34, and her two-year-old child. Surkhet District.
Chandra Tiruva, 34, and Mangu Bika, 14, in a shed in Surkhet District.
Most menstruating women are not allowed to bathe. In certain villages, the luckier women can begin to do so several days into their cycles. Surkhet District.
When a menstruating woman is allowed to bathe, she must use a separate source of water. Surkhet District.
Mangu Bika, 14, after bathing. Surkhet District.
Living in the open sheds leaves those observing Chhaupadi vulnerable to attacks from animals, especially snakes. Narsi village.