Cow urine is used as a “purifier” in villages. “It is sprinkled everywhere that I step. If I walk to the washroom someone walks behind me sprinkling it to purify the route. This is also done in the washroom after I use it,” says Deepika Khadka of Doli village.
Most women in Uttarakhand villages engage in some kind of farm work, and they routinely handle cow dung and urine. Cow dung is considered sacred in Kumaon and in parts of the state, infants are bathed in cow dung to get rid of lanugo, the downy hair they are born with.
But there is low awareness of the fact that its use inside closed living quarters can lead to infections at a time when both the new mother and infant are vulnerable. “What if a drop gets into the child’s eye?” asks Guddi Devi, former gram pradhan of Macchor village in Almora.
The bedding provided to the mother consists of layers of washable blankets and rugs, much thinner and less comfortable than a standard mattress and quilt. “After the 11th day naming ceremony, we have to wash it ourselves,” says Kavita of Kausildhar village.
Katoch says these practices could increase a woman’s sense of discomfort and anxiety. “The recommendation is for a regular bed that she has used her entire life, a bed on which she is comfortable to sit. A warm space is advised for both the mother and the child,” she says.
Family members may occasionally take the baby to massage her or hold her up to sunlight and warmth but then have to “purify” themselves with cow urine.
“We believe that the gods can become impure as a result of cho. And it physically affects a lot of people. If I get cho, I’ll feel it in my body – pain in my legs, ulcers on my tongue, or blisters on my head and face,” insists Parul*, a mother of four and grandmother of two, who lives in Someshwar.
Local midwives or dais believe that the ring of isolation is important for women. “The child has spent nine months in the mother’s womb, of course, it is impure,” says Shanti devi, a dai from Salla village in Almora. Upper-caste Thakur homes are often “purified” after a dai attends to a delivery, points out Nandi Devi, a dai from the Thakur community in Baghar village.
Dais also believe that they themselves become polluted by assisting in childbirth. “I’m not repulsed by the sight of it or the fluids on my skin, but I need to take a bath immediately after the delivery. I’ve had to take baths as early as 2 am on occasion,” says Parvati Devi. Some midwives also isolate themselves for five days.
Frontline health workers – tasked with monitoring the health, diet and well-being of new mothers and infants – who we interviewed in Uttarakhand said that these beliefs are too deeply rooted to be questioned.
“The practice of cho is not going anywhere anytime soon,” says Hema Bisht of Benali village.
Because of the taboo around the subject of sex and reproduction, women often enter motherhood with no basic understanding of what it implies. “I never had any kind of discussion around pregnancy. Once when I was visiting the doctor a woman told me how sometimes due to the labour there might be tears down there and that was the first time I heard about it,” said Deepika.
Even in hospitals not much information is given out to women, making early motherhood an isolating experience. There is thus very little questioning of the rituals. “We have to endure these rituals because we live here. If we ever get to migrate to a bigger city we will not follow them,” says Suman, from Salla village in Almora, cradling her newborn.
In Haldwani city, Bhawana Bisht, a mother of two, says she does not undertake postpartum impurity practices. “These practices are still prevalent even in cities among some families but we did not practise it. It mostly happens in joint families, where there are other women to take care of the new mother but if it’s a nuclear family like mine it becomes impossible to do.”