Flow: The Cultural Story of Menstruation (12 page)

In Vedic mythology, the great god Vishnu had the bad sense to lie with the goddess Earth when she was menstruating; as a result, she gave birth to monsters that nearly destroyed the planet. Ancient Romans believed that Vulcan, the god of fire and metal-smithing, suffered from birth defects because his mother was menstruating during his conception. And in one of the ancient apocrypha (religious texts written around the same time as but not formally accepted into the Old Testament), it mentions in 2 Esdras, chapter 5: “And menstruous women shall bring forth monsters.”

And why do we call menstruation the “curse,” anyway? Ask most people and they’ll point you to the Bible. It’s right there in Genesis, they’ll say confidently, as clear as day: Eve’s punishment for succumbing to the temptation of the serpent is to be cursed with menstruation. Funnily enough, that’s not actually the case. Nowhere in the Bible is it mentioned that her curse involves anything remotely resembling monthly blood. And yet since that’s how most people choose to remember the story of Adam and Eve, that’s how menstruation received its charming—and theologically loaded—nickname.

While Christians blame the first woman for the subsequent moral downfall of humankind—and all for one lousy apple, for crying out loud!—the inherent baseness of women echoes thematically throughout other early religions, as well. Ecclesiasticus 25:19 has this to say about the fair sex: “No wickedness comes anywhere near the wickedness of a woman.” From 25:24: “Sin began with a woman and thanks to her, we all must die.” And from 22:3: “The birth of a daughter is a loss.” Nice, huh? And even today, Orthodox Jewish men still recite a daily prayer, “Blessed art Thou, Lord our God, King of the Universe, who hast not made me a woman.”

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In much of the Islamic world and among Hindus in India, women must still adhere to the strict rules of purdah, which literally means “curtain.” According to purdah, men aren’t allowed to see women—who, while in public, must always be covered in a loose, floor-length burka, and with a yashmak, or veil, frequently covering their face, as well. In accordance with this practice, a woman’s social and economic activities outside her home are seriously curtailed, and even within her own home, she is often physically segregated from the men with high-walled enclosures, screens, and curtains.

Clearly, women (representing temptation, weakness, and immorality) have long meant trouble with a capital T in many world religions, but when they’re actually menstruating—Katie, bar the door! Consider Leviticus 15:19-23, which sets forth the ancient doctrine of menstrual cooties in no uncertain terms:

If a woman has a discharge, and the discharge from her body is blood, she shall be set apart seven days; and whoever touches her shall be unclean until evening. Everything that she lies on during her impurity shall be unclean; also everything that she sits on shall be unclean. Whoever touches her bed shall wash his clothes and bathe in water, and be unclean until evening. And whoever touches anything that she sat on shall wash his clothes and bathe in water, and be unclean until evening. If anything is on her bed or on anything on which she sits, when he touches it, he shall be unclean until evening.

And that, my friends, is some serious uncleanliness! This sentiment is echoed in the Koran, 2:222: “They ask thee concerning women’s courses. Say: They are a hurt and a pollution: So keep away from women in their courses, and do not approach them until they are clean.” Similarly, in Eastern Hinduism, a menstruating woman is forbidden from taking part in religious ceremonies for the first four days of her cycle. And in ancient India, sex was also forbidden during her flow.

Yet what was an ancient people to do, what with 50 percent of one’s community continually spending so much time wallowing in their own filth, corrupting everything they touched and being a loathsome abomination in general? One couldn’t exactly banish women all the time—who else could the guys turn to for the cooking, harvesting, food storage, cleaning, childcare, and sex?

As a result, many religions and cultures cleverly devised ritualized cleansing ceremonies to regularly purge women of their monthly impurities—rites that still continue in many parts of the world to this day. Not only do such rituals assuage the male fear of contamination, allowing a man to enjoy his wife’s charms and services with a clear conscience, but by establishing a cycle of filth and cleansing made up of ritualized banishment and reacceptance, male-dominated society perpetuates the cozy myth that women are flawed, dirty, and routinely in need of being made clean again. The implication becomes that women not only deserve the treatment they receive, in fact, they’re pretty damn lucky!

In the Bible, a woman used to be allowed to Cleanse herself every month symbolically, with, animal sacrifices.

In certain Islamic sects, women must perform a ritual cleansing bath, a ghusl, washing themselves thoroughly from head to toe, making sure their hair and scalp are scrubbed clean, as well. The Manusmriti (one of the foundations of Hindu law) also requires ritual bathing at every cycle’s conclusion.

In the Bible, a woman used to be allowed to cleanse herself every month symbolically, with animal sacrifices; just check out Leviticus 15:29-30: “And on the eighth day she shall take unto her two turtledoves, or two young pigeons, and bring them unto the priest, to the door of the tabernacle of the congregation. And the priest shall offer the one for a sin offering, and the other for a burnt offering; and the priest shall make an atonement for her before the Lord for the issue of her uncleanness.” But given animal rights and anticruelty laws (not to mention the going price of turtledoves and pigeons), that’s no longer a viable option. Instead, there’s always the mikvah—perhaps the best-known and most controversial ritual, intended for many purifying uses for both men and women, but best known for postmenstrual cleansing.

To understand the mikvah, one needs to understand the female cycle, according to Orthodox Jews. The Talmud (the interpretation of the Hebrew Bible by ancient rabbis and scholars) added another week following the end of the period, which means that a Jewish woman—at least according to Orthodox rules—is considered unclean for at least two weeks out of the month. During this time, she is niddah. This means “separated,” referring specifically to any physical contact with her husband. And “separated” means no hugging, no hand-holding, no casual brushing a stray crumb off his chin, and most certainly no sex, for half of the month.

In order to begin the purification process, a woman must wait until seven days after the last day of her period. Then she checks herself internally for any trace of blood. Using a small, clean, white cloth (special ones called bedikah are made for this purpose), she checks the vaginal canal to make sure it’s blood-free. Alternatively, she could opt to wear white underwear and sleep on white sheets. When everything is completely free from even the faintest trace of menstrual flow, she’s finally ready to be spiritually cleansed.

First, the woman bathes, shampoos and combs her hair, and removes anything touching or covering her skin: watches, jewelry, makeup, even bandages. She often undoes any braids, as well, to ensure that every bit of her, including each filament of hair, will be totally immersed. The mikvah itself has been built into the ground, in its own house or as an integral part of another building. It is filled according to strict rabbinical law; and when a woman steps into it, the waters must completely envelop her body. After reciting a purification blessing, she dunks herself two more times. And only after she has completed this ritual can she get backto connubial relations with her husband.

In clinical terms, one can well see the advantages of such a setup when it comes to population growth: after two weeks of abstinence without so much as a furtive hand squeeze, a woman is suddenly free to be with her husband at the height of ovulation, thus standing a pretty good chance of getting pregnant.

However, this practicality is just an extra bonus tacked on to an ancient and disturbing belief: that menstrual sex is contaminating and must be systematically cleansed. From early Christian clergy such as Pope Dionysius of Alexandria (d. A.D. 265): “Menstruous women ought not to come to the Holy Table, or touch the Holy of Holies, nor to churches, but pray elsewhere.” From Saint Theodore, seventh Archbishop of Canterbury (d. A.D. 690), who centralized the English Church: “During the time of menstruation women should not enter into church or receive communion, neither lay women nor religious.” The whammy was apparently on women even when they weren’t actually bleeding, as witnessed by this remark by Theodulf, Bishop of Orleans (d. A.D. 821): “While a priest is celebrating Mass, women should in no way approach the altar, but remain in their places, and there the priest should receive their offerings to God. Women should therefore remember their infirmity, and the inferiority of their sex: and therefore they should have fear of touching whatever sacred things there are in the ministry of the Church.”

Today, religion and menstruation are still, so to speak, uncomfortable bed partners—witness Pope Benedict’s visit to Poland in 2006. Deemed by lily-livered broadcasters as “inappropriate,” all ads for tampons—along with those for beer and lingerie—were banned from the air on state TV during his stay.

Oddly enough, religious squeamishness about menstruation wasn’t always monolithic; there were even some rare moments of enlightenment. In certain branches of Buddhism, for instance, menstruation has always been seen as something natural. Any overt sexism, such as the banning of women from temples, has been interpreted by some as a later influence of Hinduism.

Even representing the Church, Pope Gregory I wrote, in A.D. 601: “The natural flux that she suffers cannot be imputed to her as a fault, therefore it is right that she should not be deprived of the entrance into a church.” He also wrote that while a menstruating woman who preferred to remain outside a church should be praised, her condition still shouldn’t be held against her; and should she choose to enter, she shouldn’t be punished.

We find it distressing that this bit of humane common sense was considered so revolutionary, especially considering that Jesus himself was famously empathetic to at least one woman who was menstruating. From Matthew 9:20-22: “Just then a woman who had been subject to bleeding for twelve years came up behind him and touched the edge of his cloak. She said to herself, ‘If I only touch his cloak, I will be healed.’ Jesus turned and saw her. ‘Take heart, daughter,’ he said, ‘your faith has healed you.’ And the woman was healed from that moment.” While we may initially be stunned by the idea of any woman bleeding for twelve years, we are more impressed by Jesus’ radical behavior. Not only does he clearly not care a snap of his fingers about possible contamination by contact with the poor woman, he also heals what sounds like a runaway case of menorrhagia, or excessive menstrual flow.

Religious taboos against menstruation still persist. Orthodox Jewish men won’t shake hands with a woman for fear she may be menstruating, thus rendering him impure. In the Talmud it is stated that if a menstruating woman walks between two men, one of them will die (leaving us to ponder what world history would have been like if we had actually had that kind of power all along … the mind reels!). In Jerusalem, a special bus system for the very religious ensures that by seating the men up front and women in back, no chance contamination might occur. In his 2007 book, The Year of Living Biblically, author A. J. Jacobs realized it was virtually impossible in New York City to sit anywhere that a menstruating woman definitely hadn’t been, and so had to resort to carrying a folding chair with him everywhere he went.

Orthodox Jewish men won’t shake hands with a woman for fear she may be menstruating, thus rendering him impure.

According to Islam, menstruating women are still forbidden to touch the Koran, perform special prayers at Islamic festivals, fast (being expected to make up the days at other times during the year), and, last but not least, have sex with their husbands. According to the Koran: “When they have purified themselves, ye may approach them in any manner, time, or place ordained for you by God. For God loves those who turn to Him constantly and He loves those who keep themselves pure and clean.”

“All right,” we hear you say, “we get it. World religions have always been run by men, and any religious beliefs and rituals about menstruation are little more than ancient superstitions based on primitive fears, none of which have any place in the twenty-first century. After all, except for a distinct minority of the religiously conservative and very devout, no one actually believes any of this menstrual sex/pollution nuttiness anymore … do they?”

The creepy thing is, they do and they don’t.

If one is up for a mirthless laugh or two, we suggest visiting any of the consumer-oriented Web sites maintained by the big femcare manufacturers. One and all, the sites address myths we’re depressed to hear apparently still need debunking, notions that many females obviously still cling to, such as: Is it safe to wash one’s hair during one’s period? Is it okay to take a bath? And from the Barr Pharmaceuticals-sponsored Web site,
knowyourperiods.com
: Is menstrual blood poisonous? Is sex with a menstruating woman dangerous? Admittedly, Pliny the Edler wrote that sex with a menstruating woman during a solar or lunar eclipse could be fatal. But remember, he came up with that one in A.D. 60. How weird is it that many of us are clearly still haunted by menstrual superstitions dating back for literally thousands of years?