Permaculture for People with Periods
It’s been a few months since I started “van life” and up until now I’ve had pretty good luck when it comes to Aunt Flo’s monthly visit. Without really trying, I have always managed to score house sits that coincidentally line up with my moon cycle which means I have yet had to deal with menstruating whilst living in a tiny spaceship sans running water.
Until now that is…
A week ago, smack dab in the middle of my two-week permaculture design certification at Keela Yoga Farm, I realized that my period would be starting soon and I wasn’t prepared. I always have period undies handy but because I’m a heavy bleeder, I typically like pairing them with menstrual pads on the first few days. Needless to say, I didn’t have the goods and the nearest town was a 20-minute drive away (and the only “shop” they had was a cafe that carried bags of crisps and chocolate - no period products). There was also very rarely any free time to sneak away and stock up.
I decided to make do with what I had and also use it as an opportunity to bring attention to the fact that we need more period-inclusive spaces, especially in permaculture.
Especially since one of the core principles of Permaculture is People Care - a principle that makes sure to take into account the people who will be impacted by your design. The farm I happened to be taking my permaculture design course at however, was clearly designed by a man who hadn’t taken into account the fact that his female guests would sometimes be bleeding whilst also shoveling sheep shit to make compost.
Take his long drop toilet design for example. To close and open the door you have to lift a giant wooden block thus preventing you from accidentally forgetting to shut the door. He was proud of this detail but failed to think about the fact that a woman on her period might struggle with putting her pants on while holding her bloody moon cup in one hand and trying to simultaneously not get blood on the wooden block so that she could get out and wash up.
He also happened to put the shared hand-washing sink on the outside of the compost toilets, and not one on the inside which meant that if you did manage to get out of the shit machine unscathed, you’d run the risk of having one of your classmates pass you while you’re washing out clots from your moon cup or rinsing off the blood you’d smeared on your hand in the process.
I happened to enjoy the company of nearly every one of my classmates, but it’d be nice to have some privacy when I am vigorously squeezing out the blood from my period underwear.
Not to mention that the compost toilet was quite a long hike from the van parking zone which meant that any time I felt a clot of blood longing to be released I had to waddle to the bathroom hoping that I’d make it there before my period underwear flooded. Spoiler alert - I never managed to get there in time.
In the middle of the night, I opted to pee outside of my van, a detail that was encouraged by the farm. In fact, we weren’t really supposed to pee in the compost toilet because it would promote bad smells. Normally this was fine with me, but on my period, it’s nice to be able to wipe and flush regularly. Instead, I had to wipe myself with the full moon in the sky illuminating my own full moon, and then throw the tissue into a trash bag in my van. The next morning I got in the habit of watering down the clumps of blood that I’d left around.
On the final day of the course, our instructor asked us for feedback. While others used the opportunity to give tips on how to improve the food and curriculum, I spoke honestly about my period-related concerns and recommended that at the very least, he should sell sustainable period products in his shop alongside incense and natural soaps. Though I am unsure he understood the magnitude of the situation, he does seem to be someone who implements feedback regularly. For example, before our group arrived, a group of women volunteers had set up a “pee station” complete with a charcoal pile to absorb smells, a wastebasket, and a roll of toilet paper outside of the community center. The reason was that a few women had complained that there wasn’t enough private areas around the center for them to comfortably pee outside.
Even if nothing comes of my outspokenness, I am happy that I had an opportunity to share my stance as well as speak honestly about this topic. It’s not necessarily the fault of men for designing an inconvenient world. Instead, I think it’s the lack of awareness around the kinds of spaces we need. I believe it’s the responsibility of women to speak up or hell, even take it upon themselves to design spaces that are more inclusive.
The moral of the story - I got my Permaculture Design certificate and if I ever decide to bring my project to fruition, I will make sure that it is an inviting place for those who bleed on the reg.
