Barah: Ready, Set, Purify!

My second marriage took place when I was 11 and a half and involved being locked away in a dark room with no sunlight for four days straight with the restriction of not being able to have any visual contact with the male species. There was also a fire-breathing dragon guarding the entrance to my chamber that would desecrate any foolish suitor who thought he could outwit it.
Okay, maybe not.
But I really was required to stay in my bedroom with the windows covered so that no natural light could seep through.
No, Child Protective Services was not called.

Barah takes place when a girl begins menstruating. She is no longer considered a child, but a fertile woman. It is a time for celebration for she now has the amazing ability to hold and bring forth life. BUT menstrual blood, particularly the first time, is "frightening and impure" according to the observations of Coon (2010). Thus, the Barah rite of passage reconciles this contradiction by "purifying the womb" before the first menstruation. This negative viewpoint on menstruation is not entirely uniquely Newar. Even in the United States, we can talk about Viagra all day long but as soon as someone says "tampon" it's nothing but gasps and clutching of the pearls.

"Barah" literally means "twelve" in Nepali. Traditionally, for twelve days, she stays in her room with all of the windows covered up and is not allowed to see the sun or the face of any man including her father, brothers, and other relatives. Throughout the twelve days, she goes through a purification process. And on the twelfth day, she takes a bath, gets dolled up in bridal garments, and emerges as a strengthened and purified young woman. Usually in Nepal, the girl is taken outside on the rooftop terrace with a blindfold. Before she can see any male's face and continue on with the rest of the ceremony she first looks upon Surya Dya, the sun. After that, it's nothing but merriment, parties, gifts, and "congratulations" from all the relatives. But what they're really trying to say is "Oh my god, you made it out alive!"

Want to take a wild guess at who I married this time?

I know he's a little funny looking but he sure knew how to brighten my day! 

(wink, wink, elbow, elbow)

I have to say, though, the part about being locked in your room for twelve days really isn't that bad. All your girlfriends and female relatives come to hang out, watch movies, play dress-up, listen to music, and just have girl time. Many parents even put their daughters in the same rooms as other girls who are going through Barah so that they can keep each other company and go through the experience together. It's almost like the Nepal counterpart to the American pox parties. When one kid has chicken pox, you expose all the other kids to him/her so that they can all be infected at once so they don't get it at a later time. Similarly, if you have one girl who needs to go through a cleansing ritual, you might as well throw in a whole roomful to rid them all of their female impurities and cleanse them all at once. Conservation: it makes sense...I guess.

Here is a picture of my two older sisters during their Barah ceremony together when they were wee little nuggets:

Since it's such a common tradition that happens in Nepal, teachers and principals are fully aware about these important rituals and so they completely understand when a girl is missing from school for two weeks. Having grown up in the states, I imagine was a tad bit more difficult for my parents to explain to my middle school teachers in Lexington, KY why they have to lock me in a dark room for two weeks. So mine only lasted four days. :) Actually, I think around that time the tradition officially changed to last four days instead of twelve anyway so I got lucky.

Aside from all the fame and glory of becoming a new Lakshmi Goddess in the family, I think this is the one rite of passage related to Newar culture that is the most obvious in the ways in which it subjugates women. Sure, we get all dolled up and adorned in all the reds and golds once again and we get all the attention in the world from our family and friends as they welcome us into the world of womanhood. But do we really have to be locked away and "purified" first before we can get any pats on the back? What exactly is so impure about menstruation? Not saying it's my favorite time of the month but I do bathe, you know. I understand that not all people are comfortable with the concept of natural processes of human bodies. If that's the case, why don't boys go through a similar 12-day lock down when they get their first wet dream? And people think girls are disgusting? Let's not go there.

What's more disturbing to me is that there are some remote places such as Achham, a region in far western Nepal, where they practice chaupadi, the ritual isolation of menstruating women (Gaesyl, 2013). Each month during menstruation, a woman is deemed so impure that she is completely ostracized and must sleep, eat, and wash outside of their homes in a stable or cave called a "goth." Even though this practice has its roots in Hinduism, many scholars believe that this ritual is a bastardization of the Vedic precept that women sleep apart from their husbands during their time of the month. But this area and I'm sure a few other still practice this ritual today. Moreover, these communities apparently believe that to discontinue this practice would result in a plethora of bad luck: crops would fail, animals would die, snakes would fall from the ceiling, and everything would end very badly.
So just because people want to get more progressive toward banning inhumane treatment of women, Ganesh might crack his whip on humanity? How convenient. I'm sure that's exactly why bad luck is exposed onto a community: because they decided to act with more wisdom and compassion.

Many girls find this ceremony to be a very exciting time in their life. It was exciting for me, too. I loved the idea of going into my room for a few days and coming out a new person. Like I'm in a cocoon going through metamorphosis. I go in as a young child and come out a transformed new woman. That's beautiful. I would love some time for self-reflection as I enter a new stage of my life and prepare for my teenage years and at the same time get treated like I'm the most special and precious gem in the world. But why is it that my purity has to be in question because my body is going through a natural change? If I can be praised and glorified for my ability to procreate and give life, why can't that include the process that I have to go through in order to prepare myself for that? Don't lock me away because you think I am dirty and then marvel at my strength after I emerge as a cleansed soul by your terms.
I don't blame those who go through Barah with excitement being the only emotion they are filled with and don't question any of the ritual significance and meanings behind what they are doing because our patriarchal society has done a marvelous job at hiding the intentions behind the ritual underneath the petticoat of actions that romanticize it.
The way I see it, you shouldn't need a ritual to purify a Goddess anyway.

Period.