THE RITUAL OF HOSPITALITY AND ITS PSYCHOLOGICAL IMPACTS ON GENDER ROLES IN NEPALI HOUSEHOLDS

In many Nepali homes, when a guest arrives, a quiet routine begins. Slippers are offered, water is poured, and the best cups are pulled out. Women quietly head to the kitchen, returning shortly with tea, followed by snacks, and then more tea. Meanwhile, men sit and chat, often representing the warmth of the household. This ritual of hospitality, though simple and generous, is filled with deep cultural codes, especially regarding gender.

To be hospitable in Nepal is to be honorable. The saying “अतिथि देवो भव”—the guest is god—is not just a proverb; it is a moral obligation. It shapes the idea of a "good home." However, beneath this cherished tradition lies a constant expectation: women, especially daughters-in-law and mothers, must handle the emotional and physical work of hospitality. While the ritual may involve everyone, the burden does not.

In most households, even today, hospitality begins with the woman standing. Whether she has just come home from work or is caring for a child, she must quickly switch from her daily chores to hosting duties. She may not even participate in the conversation but is expected to anticipate needs—refilling tea, offering seconds, clearing plates—all while smiling and without being asked. This is a learned routine, passed down through generations.

Men, on the other hand, often perform the verbal hospitality. They offer greetings, make small talk, and greet the guest. Their role is open and public. The women’s role is behind the scenes but crucial. Without her, the home would feel cold and uninviting. With her, it shines, often at her own expense.

This division has psychological effects. From a young age, girls see their mothers and grandmothers jump up when the doorbell rings, while their brothers stay seated. Over time, hospitality becomes more than a duty; it shapes a gendered identity. A good woman is someone who knows how to serve, who smiles through exhaustion, who puts off her own hunger until the guests are satisfied. In contrast, boys are rarely taught the same duties. This imbalance is established early, repeatedly enforced, and deeply ingrained.

For many women, especially daughters-in-law, the pressure goes beyond cultural expectations; it feels like a judgment. Her worth in the family, especially in joint households, often depends on how well she performs this role. Is she quick and respectful? Does she serve enough food? Does she make the right amount of eye contact—not too much or too little? Her smallest actions are examined, compared, and scrutinized. Because the performance is expected to be flawless, the stress remains unnoticed.

Hospitality thus becomes not just a tradition but a test.

Even in educated urban families, these habits continue, although they may appear more modern. Young working women come home only to juggle meetings and meal prep when guests arrive. Men might help set the table, but it’s still the woman who remembers food preferences, apologizes if something is late, and feels guilty if a dish isn’t perfect. The hospitality routine changes, but it seldom balances out.

This gendered work also silences women. As they serve, they often miss out on the chance to speak. While conversations happen in the living room, the kitchen becomes their space—a place of laughter but also exclusion. What should be an act of inclusion ends up reinforcing hierarchy and separation.

However, change is beginning. Younger couples are starting to rethink the tradition. It's not unusual to see a man offering tea or taking the lead in cooking for guests. Some households are beginning to involve daughters and sons equally in hospitality tasks, teaching them that caring is not just a woman's job. These might be small changes, but they show a growing understanding that traditions can evolve.

Nepal’s hospitality is rich, beautiful, and deeply human. It unites people, builds community, and reflects our shared values. Yet, like many cultural practices, it often carries unspoken biases—especially regarding who gives and who serves.

To preserve the heart of this tradition while promoting gender equality, we must first acknowledge the hidden work it requires. Hospitality should be a shared joy, not a quiet sacrifice. It should welcome not just guests into our homes but fairness into our daily lives.

True hospitality begins not just at the door but in the willingness to share space with everyone equally.