The other morning, I was on my daily walk to the office when I came across an interesting scene. A girl around the age of 7, was taking a small boy around the age of 5 to school, which was made apparent by his school uniform, tie included. I actually heard the pair before they came into sight, as the girl was literally half dragging and half carrying her brother(?), as he kicked and screamed. She was near tears, and wearing clothing that appeared tattered and dirty in comparison to the small boys bright and clean uniform.

I believe that this scene presented itself very differently than if I had witnessed it before my internship at WRRP. Previously, I would not have likely questioned as to why the boy was going to school wearing a uniform, while the girl was dressed in tattered clothes. She was clearly not attending school, or at least not the same English private school that he was. Why wasn’t she wearing a uniform? Was she going home to help her mother with chores for the rest of the day, or did she attend a government school, which I have heard have much lower quality education than that of Nepali private schools? I will never know for certain, but my experience tells me the answer that is most likely.

Since my arrival in Kathmandu, I have learned that the birth of a baby girl is generally a disappointment in Nepal. A Canadian friend of mine recently gave birth to a baby girl, and when I searched a Nepali gift shop for “congratulations on your baby girl” card, I found only cards for boys. Perhaps all the cards for girls had been sold, or maybe there was not a high enough demand. Regardless, to me it was yet another subtle reflection of the general attitude toward daughters in Nepalese society.

Girl carrying basket

From the day a girl is born in Nepal, she is at a disadvantage. She is less likely to attend school, will most likely eat her meals after the male members in the family are finished, and will be responsible for most or all household work. There are of course exceptions, however, from my observations and the Nepalese friends of mine I have spoken with, this is the norm.

After I began exploring this inherent preference for boys, I discovered a number of reasons why the apparent need for a boy child is so ingrained in society. According to the 2001 census, over 80% of the Nepalese population practices Hinduism. For Hindu parents, a son is a necessity because the eldest son is responsible for performing funeral rites, and the “lighting of the funeral pyre and conducting of the kriya (funeral rites) are perhaps the most important duties of the son”. If absolutely necessary, funeral rites can be performed by another male relative, but “only a son can guarantee a swift and peaceful passage through death”.

For Hindu believers, it is vital for a son to be present to do these last funeral rites, and if there is no son, the parents’ immortal souls could be in jeopardy. Thus, “only a son can speed his parents on to heaven or on to a beneficial rebirth. The son also guarantees the family line will be carried on, another sacred obligation of the parents”.

This belief alone left me wondering, with this type of inherent belief, what hope is there for Nepal making progress toward gender equality, and how can gender discrimination even begin to be reduced? And of course, since gender discrimination is believed to be the root cause of uterine prolapse, what is the best approach in eradicating this problem from the 10% of women in the population who are affected?

Reference:

Burbank, J. (2001). Culture Shock Nepal. Singapore: Times Media Private Limited

Meet Anju Rai, a WRRP campaigner. Campaigners are advocates that go door to door within their community, educating their neighbours regarding uterine prolapse, nutrition, and reproductive health, as well as engaging their peers in dialogue regarding these topics. Training and sending out these individuals is part of WRRP’s preventatives strategies for reducing uterine prolapse.

We went to meet Anju during my previous visit to Lahan. Her village and working area is in Siraha district, which is located along the Nepal-Indian border. Anju was one of the painters in last year’s advocacy quilt project, where a group of women painted panels that displayed different scenes of discrimination and life within their communities.

It was a long two hour commute in the blistering heat to visit Anju in her village. Once we arrived, myself and Shubhakamanaa,  WRRP colleague, were observed with interest by the local villagers. We were soon greeted by Anju’s daughter, who brought us to her home. There, after a brief introduction and pleasantries, we sat under the trees in Anju’s backyard and proceeded with the interview. The woman shown in the photo below was doing laundry at the water pump right beside where we were conducting the interview. It was interesting to be doing an interview about uterine prolapse and discussing early marriage, while a 20 year old five month pregnant woman did her laundry a few meters away.

Young Pregnant Maithili Woman

As I cannot speak Nepali, Shubhakamanaa had to act as translator throughout the interaction. One of the many interesting points that arose during the interview was how traditional beliefs can increase a woman’s chances of having uterine prolapse. For example, Anju described how during pregnancy, women avoid eating green vegetables because “people have a concept that if they have green vegetables during their pregnancy and delivery, the umbilical cord won’t come out”, or “they think that if they eat green veggies during pregnancy they may catch pneumonia.” Poor nutrition affects a woman’s ability to heal after the pregnancy, hence increasing the likelihood of uterine prolapse. Anju also noted that “in the houses where the family agrees and accepts the information, we can see a lot of improvement, but those who think this is not a topic of our concern, we don’t like this, we don’t want to know about nutrition and vitamins, there is no improvement at all. But we are trying our best to convince them of these things and inform them”.

In the video below, Anju shares a positive experience she had during her door to door campaigning, as well as discussing early marriage as a cause of uterine prolapse in her community.

This is the video I made in response to Corey Black‘s blog, Wretched Travel. I have been in the Kathmandu office for the past five weeks, but this video shows some of the interesting times spent in between Kathmandu and visits to the field.

My alarm goes off at 5 am. I am nowhere near ready to arise, but reluctantly force myself out of bed and throw what I need for the day into my backpack. Most importantly: Laptop and camera with battery fully charged. After a three-minute walk to the WRRP office from my hotel and I am already sweating. Shubhakamana (WRRP staff, about my age) has some bread and jam ready for breakfast on the roof. We eat it and enjoy the breeze while we both agree that it was too early to be heading out for the day’s work. We intend to travel to a nearby village (two-hour bus ride) in order to speak with some of the women that painted panels for the quilt project that the previous WRRP intern, Kate had done. I am also hoping to capture footage to better understand the work these women do on a daily basis.

We catch the first rickshaw we see along the road to the main market, and switch to the bus where we wait until it fills with passengers. Once it is full, aisle included, we began the long stretch to the village of Rajbiraj. I do not enjoy the man who is standing in the aisle, leaning on my shoulder although it was his chair. Shubhakamana makes a motion to say something to him, and I tell her not to worry, if it really bothers me I will give him a small shove or maybe pinch. We both laugh. What’s another over-crowded bus in forty-degree weather?

We arrive at 10 am, about 2 hours behind schedule, as often happens with Nepalese public transit. The field coordinator is there to meet us, along with two of the village women. We exchange greetings, and began walking through the village of mud and brick houses, with roofs of dried grass, and the smell of livestock. We draw some stares, as foreigners such as myself are rarely seen in this remote area. We stop at one of the houses, and are brought to the water pump to freshen up. The water is cool and clean. We sit down on the front porch, taking our sandals off before we go up the steps, even though the floor is actually made of mud. Shubhakamana begins to speak in Maithili, the local language, explaining that we are here to show them their videos, as they have not seen them before. We also like to learn about their work and shoot some video showing the type of work women do in this village.

We show them their videos with my Macbook, and talk about uterine prolapse, which at least one of them has experienced and received surgery for. After this, the women are eager to provide us with an example of the work they engage in at this time of year. Shubhakamana and I are lead out into the middle of a field of rice paddies by three of the women. Ewakari, the most outgoing, is very animated in describing the work and is excited to show us. I tell her she should be an actress, and she agrees.

We arrive where there appears to be some smaller green sprouts in the middle of the never-ending field rice paddies. Turns out, these are the “seeds”. The two women jump right into the cubic swamp and began to rip up the seeds and shake off excess mud. I realize later that they are doing this because they eventually carry a large cluster of these seeds on their heads, tied together with long blades of grass, to the planting area. We follow them as they lead us there.

They began planting the rice, singing Maithili folk songs as they go. They ask me if I’d like to try planting. I of agree of course, and join them in the paddy. They laugh as I attempted to plant the rice as quickly as they did in perfect rows. I fail miserably, but enjoy their reaction. After I climb back onto the path because I am only getting in the way, one of the women pull out a clump of seeds from the mud and show me how there are LEECHES clinging to it. I quickly do a thorough check of my legs, feet and hands as they again laugh.

Never again will I enter a rice paddy, however, the point was certainly made. These are the kind of physically demanding chores that rural women are expected to perform day in and day out, monsoon or shine. After an hour, it was time to have some lunch at Ewakari’s home, and talk about the Uterine Prolapse Network the women of this area have formed to empower women and educate women and their families on the issue. More to come…

Before running any type of interactive teaching activity, you always ask yourself… “Will it work? Will the level of participation be high or low? Will the message be well received?” Reflecting on my experience in Surkhet, the use of games and interactive discussion was indeed an effective method of teaching different aspects of reproductive health (RH). Without these types of programs, many of the participants would not have access to accurate information regarding sexual health.

One study conducted in Kathmandu found that adolescents’ knowledge on reproductive health and responsible sexual behavior is inadequate. Another Nepalese study, found that adolescents are engaging in risky sexual behavior, and although knowledge was greater regarding sexually transmitted infections (STIs) and HIV/AIDS in schools than in the general community, the overall knowledge of all participants in all aspects of this topic was very low. According to the International Planned Parenthood Federation (IPPF), young people have the right to information about sexual and reproductive health. This way they can be empowered (have the information and knowledge needed) to make informed choices regarding their sexual health.

The right to know about: sex and sexuality, family planning (birth control), STIs, & HIV/AIDS

The right to know about: sex and sexuality, family planning (birth control), STIs, & HIV/AIDS

How does this relate to WRRP’s main issue of uterine prolapse? As stated by a WRRP staff member, “Talking only about uterine prolapse to this age group would not be effective. This issue is not a concern for them at this time in their lives. We must talk about their issues, and then introduce our issue”.

Thus, the strategy is to discuss sexual and reproductive health from the perspective of the adolescent, and then gradually bring up the issue of uterine prolapse and its causes, specifically early marriage. In Nepal, early or child marriage is defined as marriage before the age of 18. Early marriage is often one of the main causes of uterine prolapse, as it results in early childbirth.  In the school program, the topic of early marriage is introduced through the use of specific games and discussion. For example, participants are asked to share their life dreams and ambitions with the group. These types of activities encourage the youth to be confident in achieving their goals, completing their studies, and becoming independent individuals. The assumption is that if adolescents have a strong desire to continue their education and establish a career, it is less likely that they will choose early marriage over achieving life goals. The main challenge lies in that early marriage is a strong cultural tradition that is still practiced today.

Adolescent Reproductive Health Games

The "Love Game"

What makes WRRP’s strategy unique is the use of interactive activities and games. Some RH education is provided in Nepali schools, but shortage of time, the taboo nature of sexual education, and lack of knowledge or comfort in teaching sexual health among teachers present a challenge. WRRP is conducting programs that involve the participants in discussion, provide interesting methods of conveying the message (games), as well as targeting the contributing factor of early marriage. This type of program can be passed on as a method of RH education to teachers and the youth leaders of different schools and communities, making it sustainable.

At the end of this week, I am heading to the East end of Nepal, where the mission will be to pick up where Kate left off in 2010… this time, I am travelling alone, on another grueling 12-hour bus ride to Lahan. Excited to see what adventures are in store! (I seriously need to do a blog about my bus rides thus far!)

Upon our (Sunita and I) arrival in Surkhet, I was exhausted. The 18-hour bus ride seemed to have taken the life out of me, as it had been comparable to riding a mechanical bull, due to the consistent potholes. Additionally, I accidently leaked half a bottle of water onto my seat that I had left there during a pit stop. This meant hours of sitting in a soaking wet seat, bumping up and down continuously. When, to my relief we finally arrived at WRRP-West, we were given a room to share above the office with a gas burner to cook on and a pail of water for washing. Thus, our time in Surkhet had begun.

View from our roof in Surkhet

Our mission was as follows:

1. Construct and carry out a reproductive health (RH) school program for adolescents

2. Train community non-governmental organizations (CNGOs) to conduct programs independently to ensure sustainability

After 3 days of planning an adolescent RH school program, and a Saturday of preparing materials, we were ready to give the program a trial run. We travelled at 7:30 am on Sunday to a school approximately 30 minutes from the WRRP-West office to set up for the program. (Yes, schools in Nepal generally run from Sunday-Friday).

The WRRP team of four, myself included, traveled 2 at a time to the school via motorbike.  I arrived last to find a crowd of students swarming around Sunita (program facilitator). The festivities had begun!

Students showing interest

The activities were designed to address the following topics of reproductive health:

1. Puberty
2. Menstruation/nightfall/masturbation
3. HIV/AIDs (and other STIs)
4. Life skills (ie. Personal ambitions, how to say no to early marriage and unsafe sex)
5. Uterine prolapse

Girl laughing at picture of female growth stages

We used a variety of games that were adapted to convey lessons on reproductive health.  For example, the group was divided into three teams, and each team was asked to generate the changes experienced during adolescence and write them on a large piece of paper. Team leaders were also selected, who in turn had to present the changes their team had written.  Games that required physical activity were also used to convey the message (video is in process).

All together, there were about 30 participants whose ages ranged from 15-19 years. Among these, some of were married (hence the messages regarding early marriage, which is a contributing factor of uterine prolapse). The group was enthusiastic, and although some had to leave early for their hour-long walk home for lunch, a select group stayed until the very end of the program. All in all, the program was a success. The group was informed, and educational RH materials and books were given to those who stayed until the end, to distribute within their classes.  Afterwards, the facilitators and members of the CNGO stayed behind to evaluate the program and provide feedback.

The next two days will consist of training the Surkhet community NGOs to implement the program within the schools from their respective areas.

To be continued…

Having arrived at the end of my second week in the office at the Women’s Reproductive Rights Program, I must say it has been an interesting two weeks. I would like to highlight Tuesday, May 24, which began with a conference, that myself and two other WRRP staff members attended.

The conference was titled “National Workshop on Comprehensive Health Policy from Women’s Perspective”.  During the open panel discussion, many of the women spoke and shared their stories regarding health policy. It was inspiring to see the women in their traditional dress sharing their stories with the group, even though I could understand very little of what they were saying in Nepalese.  Both of my fellow WRRP staff members also had their say in the group.

There were approximately 30 women in attendance, and three men, one a government official.  After the discussion was concluded, lunch was served, and there was talk of going to a protest. When asked if I would like to participate, I replied, “YES! WHEN? AHILE?” (Nepali for RIGHT NOW?). This was followed by laughter over my enthusiasm.

At around one o’clock, a group of about 20 women, myself included, began making our way towards where the protest was to be held. Seeing as there was a citywide banda, or strike (to read more about bandas, see here). It has certainly been interesting learning about the current political situation in Nepal since I arrived. I actually plan on drawing a diagram of the different parties, to help gain a better understanding of the structure of the Nepalese governement, because it is still unclear (Perhaps you can figure it out? Good luck).

There have been more strikes than usual within the last few months, due to disagreements between political parties, and the delay in writing the constitution, which has not been completed as planned since the civil war ended in 2006. (To know more about the political situation in Nepal, read here or here).

Thus, we made our way to the rally by foot in the 30-degree heat. We received many stares, onlookers appeared to be wondering, ‘Where is this group of women heading to all together? Why aren’t they at home, cooking?”

Alas, we had other plans. (See video).

Despite all the rallies and protests in the last few weeks, the constitution assembly was unable to reach a conclusion by the midnight of May 28^th. A third extension (there has already been two one-year extensions) was given, and there is still debate over how long this extension will be. Therefore, it is an unsure thing as to when the peace process will be complete.

On the bright side, today, Sunita (WRRP program assistant) and I are heading west to the district of Surkhet to gain some experience in the field. The plan is to assist the WRRP team in Surkhet to conduct a school program on reproductive health.  It will be a long 16-hour bus ride, but well worth it I am sure. More to come…

Arrival in Kathmandu was very smooth, as this time I was able to avoid the men who loiter and wait for naïve foreigners, whose bags they can carry and then subsequently ask for money. Disregarding my serious jet lag, I decided to attend a wedding that I had been informed by my previous Nepali colleagues, was taking place the very day I arrived. After calling around about what I should wear, it turned out the fellow ladies attending the celebration would be wearing Nepalese “kourtas”. I was relieved, as it just so happened that I had brought one! (See video below).

The next few days consisted of resting, eating, and attempting to find a place to stay in the Tripureshwor area, which was close to where I would be working. Finding an ideal place was challenging, to say the least. After much help from friends, colleagues, and WRRP, I postponed the search and joined another peace fellow, Corey, at a guesthouse in an area that was far (15 min. drive) from the Women’s Reproductive Rights Program office.

The first morning I woke up in my room at the guesthouse, there was an unexpected moment of fear and hesitation to go outside and face the day. As shown in a video by Kate Bollinger, the previous WRRP intern, braving the streets of Kathmandu is no easy feat!

After doing some room-cleaning and organizing (a.k.a. procrastinating), I finally worked out the courage to step out the door, knowing that whether I liked it or not, I would be getting lost in Kathmandu that day.

I started out the door of the guest house, and after about 3 wrong turns, managed to find my way to the market that Corey and I had visited the previous evening. I decided from there to attempt at finding my office. After taking a taxi for 150 Nepalese Rupees (equivalent to $2.00 CAD) to the area I would be working in, I realized I would not find the organization. I then attempted to also seek out Jagaran Media Center (JMC), but as I reached the area, my cell phone died, eliminating any chance of getting proper directions.

I should probably note that in Kathmandu, road signs are few and far between (at least from my perspective). Ask yourself: if the only road signs existing in the city where you live were at major intersections: how would you find your way ANYWHERE?! In Nepal, looking up an address online is not usually  an option, as most of the roads are not shown, or are unnamed. To make a long story short, I asked for directions at least ten times, ended up lost somewhere in the general area of where I thought JMC would be, then walked back to a major intersection that I was sure that I had been at earlier. Thank goodness I managed to flag down a bus that would transport me back to the guest house for 12 rupees (equivalent to $0.27 CAD).

Oddly enough, the day was satisfying. I had accomplished three tasks:

1. Get over my fear of getting lost/leaving my room (and looking like a foreigner who has no clue where they are going, a feeling I am now used to).

2. Find the general area of WRRP, so I knew where to go when it was time to start working.

3. Discover the most economical mode of transportation yet, other than walking of course!

Lesson learned: if you hope to find your way around in Kathmandu, you can’t be afraid to get (somewhat… or extremely) lost.

Tomorrow I begin work at the Women’s Reproductive Rights Program. I am very excited, and a little nervous.

This is the video blog I made today… not always the best idea after a full night of packing. More to come, but for now, time for the 30+ hour commute to Kathmandu, Nepal!