For Radha dinner is served at 7. She crouches down behind a shed, a good distance from her house, then waits. She knows what the menu will be: boiled rice, the same as yesterday and the day before. She knows that it will be her little sister who serves it, throwing the rice onto her plate from a height, the way you would feed a dog.<\/p>\n
In Jamu, Radha\u2019s village in western Nepal, her status is lower than a dog\u2019s, because she is menstruating. She is only 16, yet, for the length of her period, Radha can\u2019t enter her house or eat anything but boiled rice. She can\u2019t touch other women \u2013 not even her grandmother or sister \u2013 because her touch will pollute them. If she touches a man or a boy, he will start shivering and sicken. If she eats butter or buffalo milk, the buffalo will sicken too and stop milking. If she enters a temple or worships at all, her gods will be furious and take their revenge, by sending snakes or some other calamity.<\/p>\n
Here, menstruation is dirty, and a menstruating girl is a powerful, polluting thing. A thing to be feared and shunned.<\/p>\n
After dinner, Radha prepares for bed. Darkness falls fast in Jamu and without mains electricity the villagers follow old rhythms and sleep with the dark. Radha\u2019s parents are both migrant workers in India, so she lives with her grandmother. Their house has a solar-powered light, as does the one opposite, where I\u2019m staying with my travelling companions: the Communications and Gender Officer for WaterAid Nepal and our photographer.<\/p>\n