Between Tradition and Transformation: Visual Accounts of Menstrual Experiences in Rural Nepal Using Collaborative Filmmaking

Boundaries of the Body: The Emotional and Physical Costs of Keeping Distance

For many women—and those they care for—menstruation shapes patterns of social and spatial avoidance. Historically, and in some cases still today, even leaving the home was discouraged. One mother recalled that during menstruation her daughters would stay indoors and avoid daily tasks such as cutting grass. For others, going outside was permitted but subject to restrictions around specific places, with avoidance of markets, schools, tube wells, fruit trees, and firewood collection areas. As one woman reflected, “Before, while menstruating, we didn’t use to go to school.” Avoiding school during mensturation in this area is no longer the norm, highlighting a gradual relaxation of certain practices, particularly among younger generations.

During the group co-analysis, participants discussed the long-standing prohibition against touching water sources such as tube wells. Some maintained that menstruating women have caused the water to dry up or attract insects, while others dismissed this as superstition. Religious and social sensitivities also influenced these practices. One non-Hindu woman noted, “We don’t go to their [referring to Hindu neighbors] tube well if we are menstruating, and they also don’t come to ours.” In some villages, women created practical adaptations, such as piping water to separate washing areas to avoid conflict while still maintaining hygiene.

Women also described navigating restrictions around trees and plants. In one film, a woman pointed to her vegetable garden and said, “They say the vegetables will rot if a menstruating woman touches them… If the plants are dry, I can go, but now there is dew and it is wet. They say if we go now, it will rot, so I don’t touch it.” Different trees had reasons for being avoided, ranging from concerns about fruit ripening to fears of angering the gods. Pointing to the amala tree, one stated, “According to our religion, this tree is a god/goddess, so we do not touch it.” While collecting firewood was commonly cited as a permissible activity during menstruation, cutting firewood was sometimes avoided because it requires touching a living tree to break branches. However, only some menstruating women considered climbing a living tree to cut wood unacceptable.

Rules surrounding bathroom use varied. Some families designated separate toilets or required women to use nearby rivers, while others permitted shared facilities when necessary. One mother explained her daughters’ practices as situational: in emergencies, they were allowed to use the toilet, but since a river was nearby, they were generally asked to relieve themselves there.

Both the 8-Day Journey film and group discussions revealed shifting practices around menstrual seclusion. In the past, menstruating women slept apart in chhau goths (menstrual sheds, Figure 3), were denied milk or curd, and subjected to humiliation. Today, most families allow women to sleep inside their homes, though separate sleeping arrangements persist in some households.

Interpersonal contact during menstruation ranged from unrestricted to highly controlled. Some women avoided all touch until a fourth-day cleansing ritual, motivated by beliefs that their “impurity” could harm others. Others described seclusion as a form of self-protection during a perceived vulnerable state. One woman explained, “During menstruation, we should stay protected,” referring both to physical fragility and risks such as sexual violence or snake bites faced by women sleeping outside.

The avoidance of people infused the filming with a compelling tension. Although women were expected to keep their distance due to numerous restrictions, they still had to interact with others to receive food and assistance to some extent. One woman was particularly adamant about maintaining menstrual restrictions in all aspects of life. She chose to film her cleansing ritual and repeatedly chastised the woman who brought her water and cow urine, insisting that she should not come close or touch her (Figure 5).OPEN IN VIEWER

In one scene from the 8-Day Journey, a woman is shown crouching in a field to receive food, saying, “I feel bad, but what can I do? Society is like this.” Another woman, isolated during a village wedding, echoed this quiet resignation, murmuring, “What to do?” These moments capture the emotional weight of exclusion and internalized acceptance of restrictive norms (Figure 6). Despite these hardships, women’s reflections also reveal change. “Before, it was a big part of the tradition,” one participant shared. “Now, this mentality has largely diminished in my community.” Another added, “We used to feel shy about going in front of people. Now, we can move freely.”OPEN IN VIEWER

Participants also discussed the health consequences of exclusionary practices. Restricted kitchen access often led to malnutrition—“We used to eat a small portion of raw rice… that’s why we were admitted to the hospital.” Others described fear for their children while sleeping in open sheds, recounting incidents of pneumonia, snakebites, sexual violence, and even tiger attacks. These accounts underscore that menstrual restrictions are not only cultural but also pose serious risks to children's and women’s physical and emotional well-being.

Between Burden and Relief: The Paradox of Menstrual Rest

In 8-Day Journey, one filmmaker documents her work on the fourth day of menstruation as she walks to the fields to harvest mustard. A recurring theme across participants’ narratives is the contrast between restrictions on indoor labor and expectations for outdoor labor during menstruation. While many women are prohibited from performing household tasks such as cooking or washing dishes, they are expected to engage in physically demanding agricultural work. This includes cutting dry grass, collecting firewood, and harvesting crops. As one woman explained, “During our period, there is no work to do at the house. The only work is to cut grass and wood.” Another affirmed, “We can’t do household work… we can only work in the field” (Figure 7). One participant clarified that her avoidance of indoor spaces was less about contact with household objects and more about maintaining distance from others, such as her husband and in-laws. Thus, menstrual restrictions extend beyond spatial or labor-based boundaries; they shape and reflect social relationships within the household.OPEN IN VIEWER

Previous scholarship has suggested that exemptions from household chores during menstruation may offer women a period of rest. In this study, one filmmaker noted that women are occasionally allowed to rest from work during menstruation if they are unwell. She shared, “When I menstruate, my head aches, my hands and legs hurt, I feel dizzy… it feels good to get a chance to rest.” However, most of the findings from this study complicate this assumption. One participant described being required to collect firewood from a distant location starting at 5 am as a substitute for her usual kitchen duties (Figure 7). She reported fatigue and abdominal pain and emphasized that she would not expect her daughters to perform such labor while menstruating.

During the group co-analysis session, women discussed the challenges of meeting their families’ needs during the first four days of menstruation, when they are typically prohibited from entering the kitchen or fetching water. 8-Day Journey visually depicts these constraints: a non-menstruating woman delivers water, collects cow urine, offers soap, and pours additional water for a menstruating woman’s use (Figure 5). These scenes highlight a clear gendered and generational division of labor, wherein caregiving responsibilities for menstruating women fall on other non-menstruating women within the household or community. Notably, no men were observed performing these tasks—such as fetching water or preparing food—despite participants in the co-analysis session asserting that “during the first four days of menstruation, men should also help with the work.”

Between Separation and Sustenance: Menstrual Taboos Around Food and Cooking

The kitchen emerged as a central symbol in many women’s conceptualizations of menstrual impurity. Frequently filmed standing at the thresholds of cooking spaces, filmmakers described a pervasive belief that their presence during menstruation could contaminate food or sacred areas. One stated, “This is the kitchen. I do not go inside [while I’m menstruating]. I will go inside after I’m pure.” While many women supported their own and their daughters’ participation in previously restricted behaviors—such as sleeping in their own beds, going outside, and consuming a range of foods including milk, curd, meat, fish, ghee, eggs, and vegetables—the kitchen and places of worship remained enduring sites of perceived risk. Some women received meals in the fields (Figure 6), while others cooked separately outdoors to avoid the household kitchen altogether.

In 8-Day Journey, participants expressed wide variation in dietary customs during menstruation. Some described relaxed norms, noting that they gathered vegetables, cooked, and ate with their families. One mother stated, “I give everything, including milk and curd, fish, meat, cheese, eggs, and vegetables.” Others adhered to more rigid rules, avoiding certain rooms, abstaining from rice until the third day, or reentering the kitchen only after purification rituals. These accounts illustrate a spectrum of menstrual food-related practices, ranging from complete rejection of taboos to strict, day-by-day observance.

During the group co-analysis session, women debated whether restrictions on cooking provided rest or reinforced inequality. Some appreciated that these customs occasionally prompted men to assist with household work, while others argued that participation in menstrual traditions should be a personal decision. The group ultimately agreed that “[women] should make [decisions] according to their own rules,” signaling a growing sense of individual agency in interpreting menstrual norms.

Generational shifts were also evident. Older women reflected that they had avoided foods such as milk and curd during menstruation but hoped their daughters would “eat properly and learn.” Others emphasized that adequate nourishment prevents physical weakness, advocating for less restrictive diets. These perspectives, echoed in 8-Day Journey, underscore a broader movement toward choice, nutrition, and self-determination.

Purity Performed: The Ritual Labor of Becoming Pure

In 8-Day Journey, several women emphasized the significance of purity and cleansing rituals during menstruation. Cows and buffaloes hold both religious and economic importance in Nepali communities, symbolizing holiness and sustenance. Menstruating women follow specific practices related to these animals. On the fourth day of menstruation, women bathe and sprinkle cow urine, believed to have sacred purifying properties (Figure 5). After this ritual, they may offer water to their buffalo and wash clothes and bedsheets used during the early days of menstruation, also purifying them with cow urine. Women reported that they are considered pure after completing these rituals, though views on the timing of full purity varied: some indicated the fifth day, while others suggested it occurs only by the eighth day. Following cow urine purification, women could touch certain objects intermittently but were often restricted from entering the kitchen until after the sixth day.

Group co-analysis discussions revealed that purity practices are evolving and differ between families. One woman explained that she was not allowed to serve or eat food until her surroundings had been purified with cow urine, though she noted that some households no longer strictly follow these practices. Another participant highlighted intra-household differences in belief: “Though we try to change, the older generation doesn’t agree… [if] I am standing here menstruating, the whole area of that house is considered impure because it is associated with me.” These accounts underscore both the ritual importance of purification and the variation and gradual transformation of menstrual practices.

Lived Practices With Menstrual Products

Women described significant changes in menstrual management and perceptions of related traditions in recent years, largely due to greater access to menstrual products and improved hygiene knowledge. Reflecting on the past, one woman recalled, “…they would be in a dirty situation… [but now] the women do cleaning, take baths, and wash daily… people before used to be dirty, used to stink; blood would flow and be visible outside.”

Another woman shared her personal experience: “We were poor. We couldn’t buy underwear, and we were illiterate. I didn’t use pads—only cotton cloth. But now, things have changed. People wear underwear and use cotton pads...” She emphasized teaching these practices to her daughters, a sentiment echoed by many participants, who expressed that they would have adopted cotton pads earlier if they had the knowledge.

The women’s films documented continued use of cloths for menstrual blood capture. One demonstrated washing her menstrual cloth at a nearby stream to reuse for the next period, while another displayed her cloth drying in plain view, stating, “Even if people see it, I don’t feel anything,” signaling reduced shame and evolving norms around menstrual hygiene.

Visual Portrayals of Menstrual Stigma

As women documented their multi-day journeys through menstruation, the personal impacts of societal stigma became evident. Each participant highlighted different ways menstrual traditions shaped daily life and constrained agency. One filmed herself receiving food in isolation, seated alone in a field (Figure 6); another depicted exclusion from wedding festivities (Figure 6); a third showed her sleeping space tucked beneath the stairs of her family home. One woman used a river for bathing and laundry, explaining that she could not touch the family’s water tap. When asked where she slept, she said, “I sleep in a small hut… [if I ask to sleep in my room] they don’t allow it, even if I wish for it,” illustrating the lack of autonomy women experienced.

Another film segment also captured community perspectives around a local temple. Two menstruating women were filmed sitting outside its boundaries, explaining, “We can’t go to the temple, so we are sitting here. Our friends are [at the temple], but we are here as we are on our period today.” They remained physically segregated from others and sacred spaces (Figure 8).OPEN IN VIEWER

During the group co-analysis session, women reflected on the emotional toll of societal stigma. One recalled, “…it used to be so much like hatred. People used to hate. People used to say, ‘yuck!’” Another shared, “I cried for two nights by myself. There used to be so many bad thoughts from society when they saw us. What had we done wrong? What kind of thinking is this?” These accounts underscore how deeply ingrained beliefs about menstrual impurity are internalized and experienced.

Sacred Landscapes and Navigating Religious Tradition while Menstruating

Based on the women’s films and reflections during the group co-analysis session, religion—particularly Hinduism—plays a central role in shaping menstrual practices. However, participants emphasized considerable variation in observance. As one woman noted, “We are also Hindus, though the traditions of theirs and ours are separate.” Another reflected, “The biggest thing is tradition rather than God,” suggesting that menstrual practices are often rooted more in localized cultural norms than formal religious doctrine. These findings highlight that shared religious beliefs do not lead to uniform menstrual practices; interpretations and behaviors vary widely.

Among all restrictions, avoiding temples and worship spaces emerged as the most consistently observed practice. Unlike rules governing kitchens or water sources, this restriction was rarely accompanied by explicit rationale, appearing instead as self-evident, embedded in the moral and spiritual fabric of community life: “We follow this same tradition… We are sleeping inside. We just don’t touch the hand pump and enter the worship room.” While some practices, such as sleeping in menstrual sheds, have declined, avoidance of sacred spaces remains largely intact, reflecting deep emotional and cultural attachment, viewed as essential rather than negotiable. Men in the community echoed this perspective, acknowledging changes in some practices but reaffirm the importance of religious customs:

Man 1: In the news we heard the menstruation huts were destroyed. [Now they] share the same house and don’t face discrimination.

During menstruation, women are generally separated from non-menstruating individuals and refrain from religious practices. One filmmaker explained, “We don’t go to the worship room. We don’t even sleep in that room too.” Another emphasized the perceived longevity of these norms: they have existed “since the beginning,” and violating them could bring misfortune. In contrast, a Christian participant described how her menstrual practices changed after converting from Hinduism: “We were Hindu, but now we are Christian. So, we do not follow any menstrual restrictions. It was hard before. Our God was extremely strict,” highlighting the ways religious affiliation shapes menstrual customs.