Surviving the bombing in Brussels

'Everyone, please get out of the lounge to the open area outside leaving your carry on’, one of the flight attendants came rushing from the other end of the terminal. I was one step away from buying the famous Belgium chocolates in the Duty-free shop in the Zaventem Airport Brussels. I was about to sneak but seeing the sudden unrest enveloping in the airport, pulled myself out of my chocolate world. March 22,2016, I was traveling to USA from Nepal for the first time and my transit was in Brussels,Belgium. 

‘Airport is under attacked by terrorists. Please get outside! ‘- one of the Airport staffs announced loudly with pain in the voice.  ran outside along with other passengers. Meanwhile the fear had taken over. A busy, vibrant airport had turned into a war zone. I was looking around to observe the people not knowing how to react. I saw a young couple crying ang hugging each other tight. ‘Mom, I am safe. I miss you’ a beautiful girl with teary eyes relives her mom on phone. I could see the tears and fear in the eyes of people. I don’t know if it was the cold or the fear that I was shivering inside quite a lot. 

Then an army shuttle came to drop us outside the airport where thousands of passengers were left stranded. I was very much suffocated in the crowd and the whole situation so decided to take a small walk little away from the crowd and happened to see the front part of the airport where the bombing had occurred. I could not approach closer as it was all sealed and many policemen, army and journalists were covering the area. I couldn’t believe my eyes and that’s when I reckon it felt the shock deep inside. ‘Damn, I missed my flight to USA and I don’t know when I will reach?’ What a start of the trip to a different continent. 

 Ambulances were running back and forth. Blood stains and shattered glass, wounded people are all I could see. I thought it’s better to avoid the area.  While walking back, I saw a young girl yelling loud and crying with her friends. I went close to listen and realized she lost her close friends who had planned a random trip to visit Belgium on her insistence. She was waiting outside in a cafe while her friends were coming out of the airport but all she heard was the blast. 

After couple of hours waiting in the cold, we were taken to the air hanger. I took the shelter along with some of the fellow passengers who were also in transit and heading to the same destination. I was somewhat frustrated with having to go through as if I have been cursed during the trip. Either my luggage getting stuck in India for week or flight delayed for a day, survived the massive earthquake back in Nepal etc. Plus I was also menstruating so I was disgusted by the fact that I would be getting to shower soon. I was thinking about all those things in my head when I hear a gentle call from a very beautiful Indian woman who was also traveling via same flight with me.  ‘Do you want some of these breads and yes, I also got shawls?’-she approached to me with a gentle smile and wrapped me up with the warm shawl distributed by the Belgian Red Cross Society.  It was really nice gesture amidst the chaos. In a very short time, we became sisters from strangers. We talked about many things from men to traveling to independence. We shared and created memories together. During the incident, luckily I had got a chance to connect with my Belgian friend Brian Decrop who made an effort to communicate with my family members and friends about my safety. On top of that, he also visited me and brought me some Belgian chocolates.

 

The 3 days went so quick, but it was somewhat a life changing experience for me. The flight officials planned to redirect us to Amsterdam airport as the airport was still shutdown for days.

I enriched myself with another perspective that day. I was in the city which was my dream. Anne Frank was who introduced me to Amsterdam in her diaries and there I stood filled with joy and hoping maybe I could visit her Secret Annex. Amidst the chaos, the blood stains, the shattered glasses and the crispy cold air that chilled my spine, I still could smell the daffodil and tulips outside the hotel. After 5 days of staying inside this closed hall with hundreds of people, their frustrations, anguish and complaints, I was lured to go outside to see those beautiful flower blooming in the gloomy weather reminded me of my idol Anne Frank. I closed my eyes and whispered, ‘Anne, I am here!’- with a big grin on my face. It was my dream to visit Amsterdam and specially Secret Annex. I was there and yet I could not visit as I did not have visa. However, I was grateful to have touched, felt and smelled the country. 

While I recollect the memories from the unique experience of my life, it breaks my heart to be talking about another terrorist attack that happened last week in New Zealand. If you ask the people who went through these horrific experience , you would know how much they pray that nobody has to ever go through such things in life and yet people seem to be making others suffer. Terrorism should not be generalized to certain religion or country . It's like disease that discriminates no-one but now on the name of patriotism, religion or any extremists thought people are killing each other and it sickens me . How can human lose humanity? 

Based on my experiences , all I can say we all have heart- beating beneath our chest no matter how we look, how we dress and what beliefs we have. We all bleed red if wounded so rather than trying to differentiate among ourselves, try to help, respect and be kind to each other as you never know what the other person is going through. Peace! 

P.S I offer my praying for the ones who has lost their lives that day. Hopefully people who experienced it all that day are recovering and enjoying their life to the fullest.I am also very grateful to Belgium govt, airport staffs and volunteers who took care of us. I am grateful to have been granted this life again. 

Menstrual curse

It was a usual day in school, I remember I was in 7^th grade and my favorite subject-English was being taught. During the class, I was having weird nauseous feeling that I had not experienced before. However, I was trying my best to concentrate to the lecture. Despite trying hard, I realized this sudden disgusting feeling of something wetting my underwear and my stomach churning in pain. I guess I was not good at all from hiding the pain. My teacher noticed the change of my facial expression and asked if I was alright. I nodded and said, ‘I am ok’, but I knew something was wrong. Immediately after the class ended, I ran to the toilet to check and here it goes- the monster has awakened. I saw the blood dripping. I remembered having some conversation with mom and my friends about it and the first one is a huge deal. The only thing I remembered about menstruation or “nachune vako” was literally being untouchable and not being able to cook, or walk around the house for 4 days-which I thought was a great way to escape from the household chores when my mom used to get the monthly period. Also, my mom had told that I am not supposed to have any eye-contacts with men during the first period, so I was in dilemma how to avoid seeing men. Luckily my friend came to check me on the bathroom and then we both went to talk with one of the female teachers so that I can go home.  My friend gave her sweater for me to wrap around my back to avoid seeing the blood stains in my skirt and walked me home too.

Google Images

Upon reaching home, I realized my mom was away for some work, so I waited for her to come and help me coping. I can never forget that day when I felt that my mom was so angry at me without reason and treating me like some sinful creature. She gave me some cotton cloths to use as pad. She had to rush to office, so she left some food as I was no longer allowed to go to kitchen or anywhere around. She told me to lock the door and stay in and don’t let my father or brother to see myself. I was not knowing what was going on, and just thought it was having a stressful day.

Then couple of hours later in the eve, my aunt came to pick me up and said, during the first period you are not meant to stay in your house as its regarded impure and have to avoid everyone specially men. When it turned dark outside, she wrapped me up with a scarf and said to follow her. I was completely aloof of what was going on but just followed the instructions. Upon reaching I realized I am not even staying at my grandparent’s home but in one of their neighbor’s dungeon. Literally, it was on the ground floor of a 4 storey house, a cold empty room completely closed with dark curtains, a mattress, blanket and pillow. By the way, the curtains were supposed to be there even in the day light as I was not allowed to see the sun as well. Basically, I was imprisoned for 12 days in an unknown scary looking room with myself and in utter darkness. My aunt would come to provide food every now and then and also come to sleep at night but at the other end of the room and somedays she did not. I was told I can go to the toilet that was outside the house only before the sunrise and after the sunset. I had to wash those blood-stained cloth in the dark and also was not allowed to dry it outside. I missed my school, I had no ways to entertain myself, I was in pain, I was scared and heart-broken. I recall how much I hated every single thing about it specially as it was in the middle of the festival. I could hear children singing, playing, laughing while I was there all alone and it was way before we had internet or cell phone. I was isolated, deserted and neglected. 

Once in a while some of my girl-friends, my mom and other aunts came to visit but no one was allowed to touch me. ‘Wow, you have become so fair(white) not having to face the sun, you must be happy!’ - was one of the comments I used to get during the visits, and some would feel bad for me. I tried following up with the assignments and lessons I had missed. Finally, on the final day, there was a purification ceremony before I could go out again. It was a celebration. I received gifts and sweets from my uncles, my family. I recall not being able to open my eyes in the broad daylight after being inside the darkroom for 12 days. I thought the worst was over, but oh boy. The next day after coming out was the final day of the festival and it was Bhaitika(Hindu festival to celebrate siblinghood). It’s a huge celebration in Hindu tradition, though I knew that I was not allowed to celebrate or be a part of any religious or any auspicious occasion for almost a month. However, I was excited that I could see and enjoy.  Everybody was dressed up, houses were decorated and the room where the celebration would start was all set. I was about to enter the room, all of sudden my great grandmother yelled in disguise, ‘Oh my goodness, now she is making everything impure and unsacred. Don’t enter the room. ‘That was the peak of the humiliation and insult I had to face in such a young age in such a vulnerable period where I was still dealing with the fact that I was banished from my home. I lost it there and then, ran out of the room and bursted into tears. My mother and uncle came to pacify me and told I can enjoy at the end of the celebration. But I remember that left a deep scar in my heart which I would say sowed the beads of being a rebelor say burning the rage of feminist in me. 

By the way, I also had to miss the school during my second cycle for 7 days as well. Why? The answer was tradition. But this did not end. In addition, I would get the monthly period most of the times when there is religious ceremonies at home or some festivals and every time I was either isolated or was not allowed to stay at home. Why? Because, I would make the entire house and family impure. I was mocked constantly by my relatives saying that I might be sinful, and God would not want me to participate in the event or my late grand parents did not want me to contribute in the praying. To make it worse, I was blamed for intentionally causing it to avoid the work as well. The worst was that I was told to be the unluckiest person that I had got my period before I set off for a long journey and my parents would not be able to bless me or put tika on. What can be worst than that? I was chastised, cursed, discriminated, mocked , teased many many times just because I went through the most natural phenomenon that every woman undergoes.

Women going through their menstrual cycle are regarded as impure, untouchable and isolated from all the family functions. They are not allowed to enter the house, temples and often sent to a different house or usually a cowshed to spend 4-5 days of their period. However, degrees of severity in the practices can be slightly different in cities vs. rural communities or even in educated vs uneducated families but it exists everywhere.  Every now and then, I read the news of young girls being raped while banished in the “menstrual hut”- a tradition in western Nepal where girls are abandoned during period to a shed usually shared with other animals. They often die from the snake bites, rape and asphyxiation from fires lit to keep warm during winter. It made me feel sick of myself, I so much hated being a woman. Besides the physical discrimination, you can’t imagine the deep  psychological scars it leaves on the mind of young girls who are trying to understand their lives. Strangely, while I am writing this, I can remember every detail of the events that happened long time ago which can explain how painful it could be. It did not matter how educated or uneducated your family is, you still faced the wrath of being a woman which makes a girl hate herself, lose her confidence and blame herself for everything that happened in her life. Though the practice was banned, it has so much rooted cultural support that it’s still widely practiced in our society. And the worst part is, it is so normalized that woman themselves don’t realize that they are treated inhumanely and it’s wrong.

Despite the fact, no Vedas explain a menstruating woman as impure. Even cultural festivals and temples have positivity related to menses while some the anti-menses quotes are mentioned in some extra-vedic scriptures which has no validation. It’s so contradictory while in Hinduism and many other religions on one hand celebrate when a woman gets her period and on the other had there is even more stark hatred, discrimination and humiliation practices towards woman in her menstrual cycle.

Reforming a long-held tradition which has been perpetuated by religion is definitely a challenge; by taking one step at a time, however, changes are possible. One of the solutions can be through education and advocacy targeting all different generations and genders in the community. Raising awareness among women about menstrual hygiene and sanitation during their period is very important. The different measures on how to stay sanitized and safe in the huts, how to take care of the body and what are the tools that can be used during the process can improve the health-related problems. Meanwhile imparting knowledge on why these practices are inhumane and educating specially men and women about menstruation process can be very productive. Men literally have no clue about the processes and effects of menstruation on women because the topic has been considered as a taboo. Hence, providing adequate information can help to discard the superstitious beliefs and accepting the women during menstrual cycles. Eventually, the younger generation can play important role in getting rid of such banishment practices. Finally, women need to supporting other women and help each other to get out of the vicious cycle  because to be true it's mostly women who continue passing this practice to younger generation or say pressurize to follow the tradition which literally doesn't make sense to me. Why would you want other women to suffer what you have suffered already?
 So, while we celebrate the Women’s day, I wish no girls have to face such discrimination during their menstruation and hopefully not hate growing up as a woman. Because, women are the most powerful, compassionate, resistant, strong force that it would not have been possible to sustain our species in the earth without us. We Rise!

P.S. Girls, Do share your stories on your first memories of menstruation and anything about it as it helps healing :) #girlslove 

(Pictures are collected from google except the last one.)