By Dharini PriscilIa
Images Credit: Deshan Tennakoon
On the 07th of September 2019, I spent my Saturday evening watching the production of Maya at the Lionel Wendt, presented by Mind Adventures Theatre Company.
Now, the plot of Maya seemed simple enough. The play revolved around ‘O’ – A fictional island inhibited by a group of tribal women who were perceived as ‘demonic’. Then we were introduced to the antagonist of the story, The Prince who abducts the Queen of the tribe as well as the magical phoenix ‘Maatha’, from whom the island women gain their strength and spirituality. This prompts Maya – the protagonist of the story – to rescue her queen and restore ‘O’ to its former glory.
Some of the most noteworthy elements of this production were the set design, costumes, lighting and the soundtracks. It was no doubt that there audience were wowed by the ability of the cast and crew to create a visually and aesthetically stunning atmosphere. I noticed that multiple reviews commended the play for its creativity.
I, however, would like to divert the attention to the real deal – the themes that were carefully and artistically interwoven into the plotline. One of the main themes in the story was how women were depicted as monsters, which was an incorrect perception that derived by interpreting menstruation as ‘dirty’ and ‘unnatural’.
As it was made clear, Maya’s story takes place sometime in the past. The timeline of this story could have been decades or even centuries ago. However, what was interesting is the fact that how the narrative is still relevant to our present culture and traditions.
Anyone who has gone to the grocery store to buy sanitary napkins would know how taboo the topic of menstruation is in our country. The shopkeeper has to wrap the sanitary napkin in a newspaper, cover it with a brown paper bag and probably – to the dismay of Mother Nature – put it inside a polythene bag every single time. This is a mundane experience for those of us who buy our sanitary napkins from a random kade on the road. Even if you are at a supermarket, there is some awkwardness attached to buying this product, which prompts many to buy a number of other random items (ice cream and tea in my case) so that it doesn’t look like they are just at the supermarket to buy sanitary napkins.
What I am trying to get at here is the fact that we treat menstruation as a dirty secret. I have come to realize that the word ‘dirty’ is often associated with menstruation quite a lot – Why though?
I wonder if people would still consider period blood to be ‘dirty’ if women bled from their noses or ears instead of their vaginas every month.
The women of ‘O’ were considered as ‘demonic’ because of the fact that they menstruate – a concept that seemed alien to men at the time. But is the situation any different now? I look at my peers who make fun of menstruation by calling it ‘Monstruation’. How is this implication any different from what was depicted in the play? Even after decades of development and ‘modernization’ how come our perception on menstruation has not changed at all?
Well, I would say it is mainly because of two reasons.
The first is the fact that menstruation is interwoven deeply into our culture. The myths that surround it are based on ignorance and tradition, instead of facts and science. Certain cultures still forbid women from visiting religious establishments solely because of the fact that they menstruate. For example, Buddhist women are not allowed to visit the Patthriuppuwa due to ‘Kili’ – a misconception that perceives them as ‘unclean’ and therefore ‘unworthy’.
But if we go back in history – Who brought the sacred tooth and the bodhi tree to Sri Lanka? Sanghamitta and Hemamala. The irony of the situation is quite hilarious if you think about it.
The second reason for the prevailing stigma around menstruation is ignorance and the lack of informed discussions around this topic. Even though menstruation is nothing but a natural and biological process, many seem to forget that it is just that. I have had conversations with young women – from elite schools with excellent academic backgrounds – whose knowledge on menstruation was shocking. Most of them considered period blood to be ‘dirty’ and one even explained that menstruation happens when the ‘water bag breaks down each month’.
The fact that our Health and Physical Education teachers fail to teach such topics – which are extensively explained in the curriculum – is another contributing factor to this ignorance. In the play, The Prince and most men had an incorrect perception of menstruation. I wonder whether this happened because their Health Science teachers also considered menstruation to be an ‘irrelevant’ topic for boys to learn.
The distance we put between men and menstruation (which makes it an ironic name by the way) can also not only contribute to the continuous practicing of feudal beliefs around this normal bodily process, but it can also have far reaching consequences for the transgender community. For example, a transgender man who goes to the grocery shop to buy sanitary napkins every month can experience unnecessary stigma because we consider menstruation to be a ‘women’s issue’.
Another theme that I noticed in Maya was the plights faced by the women of ‘O’, which reminded me of the struggles most women-headed households go through in Sri Lanka. After the war, especially in the Northern region, the struggles of women-headed households are largely ignored. The stigma and threats faced by Maya and her companions reflected the situation of many women in the north, who are struggling to earn a living in a patriarchal society.
A research study done by Panampitiya (2018) emphasized the importance of introducing adaptation and mitigation methods and resilient actions to sustain the livelihood of female-headed households. Similar to Maya, who went through rigorous training to save her queen and thereby her people, these women who run their households require improved access to employment opportunities and income generation sources.
The arrival of The Prince and his influence over the local people and culture also reminded me of the effects of Colonization on our culture and values. Many practices that we proudly owned before the arrival of the British are now considered as ‘illegal’ or ‘unnatural’ as we follow the laws of our invaders. I sincerely hope that it will not take much longer for us to wake up from our Victorian hangover.
As these are themes and issues one can notice in any part of our country, I commend the director Tracy Holsingher and the cast for utilizing physical theatre and non-verbal techniques. The use of trilingual dialogue (which was kept at a minimum) and symbolism enabled the audience to perceive the themes and the story without difficulty. I also appreciate the fact that the director used local folktales, traditions, dance, music and story-telling techniques to tell a story that was quite local to its very core.
As I mentioned before, Maya was of course a visually stunning performance. But what captivated me the most was the parallels between the island of ‘O’ and our own little island. I am impressed by the writer’s ability to convey a very real issue via a world of fiction and fantasy.
In conclusion, I’d like to go back to the scene where The Prince used theatre as a tool to terrorize the locals of menstruation. As the audience noticed, the locals were indeed successfully brainwashed to think that women are demonic and that menstruation is indeed ‘monstruation’.
But as depicted in the story itself, I am glad that the director understood the power and influence of theatre and used Maya as an opportunity to talk about stigma that surrounds menstruation and the effects of patriarchy on women-headed households. Once again, kudos to the director, cast and crew for their efforts! I truly hope that that local theatre will continue to create more opportunities such as this one for our society to realize that Sri Lanka is not too far away from the island of ‘O’
(This review was written exclusively for bakamoono.lk)