6. Rites of Passage

“Wow. That’s beautiful,” I say to a young woman that I’ve just met. Monica is showing me the scarification on her back that she received when she was 13 years old. “You got this when you started to bleed?” “Yes.” “Did you get to choose your pattern?” “Yes. I wanted the moon, going up to the sky.” “May I photograph you?” She nods her head and I take her image. “Thank you for showing me, Monica, and for welcoming me into your house. You are very kind.” The house that my guide Suzanne and I are in is home to three families. Monica is the youngest daughter in one of the families, and she is proud to have shown me the artistry on her back. In this village scarification is a rite of passage. Having endured this ritual, symbolizing her fertility, Monica is ready for marriage. “My Auntie helped me,” Monica says. “Pardon me?” “My Auntie helped me.” “I don’t think I understand.” “What she means,” my guide Suzanne says, “is that when she was cut, her Auntie was there. Monica laid on top of her, and her Auntie held her while her back bled. Her Auntie is her mentor and this helps them to bond.” “I see.” “The cuts have to be deep, so that there is a scar. And as you can imagine, there is much pain. The Auntie helps with that.” “I understand.” Even though I say I understand, what she is describing sounds excruciating – almost as excruciating as the ritual that the young girls who start to menstruate in Tufi, southeast of here, undergo. As I learned, and witnessed by demonstration, those young girls have their faces tattooed with black ash. A sewing needle is heated and the ash is tapped into a pattern across a young girl’s face. The girls I photographed hadn’t started to bleed yet, so in anticipation, they paint their face, excited about this rite of passage – and the opportunity to marry and have children. Older women wear their tattoos with pride. “Would you like to see more of the house?” Suzanne asks. “Pardon me?” “I asked if you would like to see more of the house?” “Oh, yes. I think that would be nice.” With my mind swirling from what I’m learning about how women are treated here, and knowing that this is normal for them, we walk to another spot in the room and Suzanne points to the three small fires that are burning. “These are for cooking. Each family has their own area to prepare the food.” “Is all of the cooking done inside?” “Yes.” “In this heat?” “Yes. In the heat, and in the rainy season.” “I understand. Something that is unclear to me, though, is that there aren’t any walls in this large room. It’s just a big, open space. There isn’t even anything to sit or sleep on. Will you tell me about that?” “They sleep on the floor… They sit on the floor… Most things are done on the floor. Each family has their area.” “I see. And since we’re talking about all of these things… the toilet?” “In nature.” “And in other villages married couples have their private time in nature. Is this village like that too?” “No. In this village there is “quality hour” in the middle of the night, when the children sleep.” “Here in this room?” “Yes.” “With no walls for privacy?” “Yes.” “With other people sleeping right next to them?” “Yes. I think it starts around midnight.” “You’re serious?” “Yes. That is how it is here. It is very natural.” “I understand. It’s just that this is very new to me… Are my questions okay?” “Yes. That’s why I am here. To help you learn.” “Thank you. Then I have one more. I’m still curious about when the women menstruate. Can we go back to that?” “Of course. What is it that you want to know?” “Do they all go to the safe house for privacy, and to bond with the other women in the village? Or, do they go because it frightens the men and they are safe there?” “It’s a little of both. The women go to the house in the back of the village until their cycle is done that month. Then they go again… away from the men. This pattern is repeated until a woman stops bleeding.” “What do they use for sanitary protection while they are there?” “A woman will use tree moss as a pad to collect her blood. The saturated moss is given to her husband who will use it to fertilize his soil. They believe it is good for banana trees, other trees and vegetable gardens.” “Interesting.” “Yes, it is. The men don’t understand how a woman’s body works and why she does not die from the blood she loses. It is very mystical to them. Because of this, they believe that the blood must have special properties, and that it is very good for their harvest. A bigger harvest is noticed in the village. It is something a man is very proud of.”