There are certain activities that demand absolute focus. The surroundings blur as vision narrows, tension rings in the ears. The closer to danger, the more exciting it gets.&nbsp; Thrill is what adventure sports like mountaineering, canyoning and white water rafting are all about. Now, a new kind of outdoor activity is taking advantage of Nepal’s vertical terrain and scenery: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/wheeling-in-the-woods">mountain biking</a>. The sport is going viral as passionate, trailblazing Nepalis turn what used to be trekking paths into biking trails, and post GoPro videos of their adventures. Now, the sport is going international and at the forefront is Phaplu Mountain Bike Club that held its second <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/yak-attack-single-track-edition">Enduro</a> Ratnange Race in March. “Last year was all about proving the viability of the event. We worked hard to figure out every single detail,” says club founder Ang Tsering Lama, who this year got support from the local government and sponsors.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240406020452_bbe3d7448ec3463a0bffa747ca008bdfbecad75d0b5361e5aeabf4a24975ea91.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20240406020452_bbe3d7448ec3463a0bffa747ca008bdfbecad75d0b5361e5aeabf4a24975ea91" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal pushes mountain bike tourism NT 1"> </figure>  Some of the best mountain bikers in the world attended, among them acclaimed French rider Rémy Absalon, who told us: “Ratnange trails are some of the best in the world, the mixture of loam and dust is just awesome to ride on. I have travelled a lot, but never seen a country like Nepal where we are so well received.”&nbsp; The Ratnange Trail Center is a network of 13 routes spanning 60km used solely for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/bicycling-in-waling">mountain biking</a> with a selection of narrow, technical, wide, or single tracks that need the complete concentration of riders. The rest stops offer stunning views of the Everest region. Lama designed the route on existing foot trails, and works with the local community to maintain them. He raises funds by renting out paths to private companies, who name trails after their brand for Rs20,000 a year.&nbsp; Explains Lama: “The trails roll through the forests and the route is designed based on what you want it to be. Do you want it to flow? Do you want switchbacks? Drops? Jumps?”&nbsp; Flowy trails have kind curves that allow bikers to maintain momentum and a smooth speed, while switchbacks are zig zags built into a steep trail to reduce speed on descent. Drops are where the trail falls away. Jumps consist of takeoffs and landings, and vary in the time the rider is airborne. &nbsp; When blazing a new trail, a good road must always be close by for urgent medical attention. The risk of serious injury is ever present. Safety precautions include helmets, knee and elbow pads, and chest and back guards. Even then, concussions, fractures, discolations, and broken wrists are common.&nbsp; Lama advises matching ability to the choice of trail, but riders always want to push their limits. One way they train, is at <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/kathmandu-gets-first-pump-track">pump tracks</a>, which are artificial dirt circuits. The bike club built one of these in Phaplu where young ‘rippers’ learn to control bikes.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240406020456_fdee77cb19a67c56aa8e9e6aaef197f57e1d53c00b056ae8477d843fc253320c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20240406020456_fdee77cb19a67c56aa8e9e6aaef197f57e1d53c00b056ae8477d843fc253320c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal pushes mountain bike tourism NT 1"> </figure>  Another way to train for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/downhill-all-the-way">the downhill</a> is actually the uphill. “The uphill builds the mental endurance needed for the downhill,” explains Lama. It also builds physical strength. Riders need strong, endurable legs, a sturdy core, and a solid grip. “But on the downhills, a state of complete focus and presence washes over you, and all of your sensations and abilities are heightened. It is taxing on the body, but still meditative.”&nbsp; Lama runs The Happy House in Phaplu, a family lodge where Edmund Hillary used to stay and call his “happy place”. When he formed Phaplu Mountain Bike Club, Lama wrote to bike shops and friends, who donated two-wheelers. Before long, local young children started coming in after school to zoom around the track.&nbsp; Club members did well at <a href="https://enduroratnange.com/">Enduro Ratnange</a>, inspiring a new generation of young riders to dream of careers as mountain bike athletes or biking guides, who make $25 an hour to a trekking guide’s $15.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240406020456_d083b2b6b2f8632e5befa8ec775dcbebdaf5b38e28c9a7b1293f13f37191055f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20240406020456_d083b2b6b2f8632e5befa8ec775dcbebdaf5b38e28c9a7b1293f13f37191055f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1125" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal pushes mountain bike tourism NT 1"> </figure>  Despite the popularity of the sport and possibilities to compete at higher levels, the bureaucracy, government ignorance, and a lack of infrastructure are setbacks. &nbsp; The club makes sure that it is inclusive: there is no membership fee, and bikes are set aside exclusively for girls. The main trainer, Mingma Yangzi Sherpa, is a woman.&nbsp; <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/pedalling-for-life">Mountain biking is also good for the soul</a>, says Lama. “Getting good at this sport requires discipline, and a sense of camaraderie. Bikers seem to develop a deep respect for the environment.”&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240406020456_a61ba3ac33c2daba9f8f516f4e1652051ef4a31788af290397779a67d0780fbf.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20240406020456_a61ba3ac33c2daba9f8f516f4e1652051ef4a31788af290397779a67d0780fbf" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal pushes mountain bike tourism NT 1"> </figure>  Mountain biking tourists are great for Phaplu’s economy as well. Trekkers who pass through Phaplu stay for a day, while bikers may stay for four or five. Mountain biking destinations in Wales, Canada, and the Alps see millions of tourists every year. Nepal already has the terrain, the trails, the hospitality and unsurpassed views.&nbsp; <a href="https://www.facebook.com/phaplumtbclub/">Phaplu Club</a> is already looking forward to next year and hopes to organise Asia-wide events with top talents. There is also potential to stage Ratnange-like projects in Makalu and Ilam.&nbsp; Kathmandu to <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/So-far-so-good/going-to-phaplu-in-winter,1107">Phaplu</a> is a now a nine hour drive on the Sindhuli Highway via Okhaldhunga, or a 30 minute flight to Phaplu. Riders can then pedal up to the start of the trail or take a shuttle for themselves and their wheels. Just so you’re not, you know, two tyred.

Nepal pushes mountain bike tourism

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A reportage by two Nepali journalists about widows of Nepali workers who died during the construction of facilities for the 2022 World Cup are runners up in the Civil Rights category of the Fetisov Journalism Award.
Roshan Sedhai and Samik Kharel won the CHF 10,000 prize for their story titled ‘Nepalis Feel the Human Toll of Qatar’s World Cup’ at the award announcement ceremony in Istanbul on Monday. 
The award has an annual prize fund of 520,000 Swiss francs given across four categories–Outstanding Contribution to Peace; Contribution to Civil Rights; Outstanding Investigative Reporting; and Excellence in Environmental Journalism.
Another story on migrant workers, The Bitter Taste of Kiwi got the third prize for Outstanding Investigative Reporting about how Indian farmhands are exploited in Italy. The story was published in The Wire, Al Jazeera and El País.
The first prize for Outstanding Investigative Reporting went to Hannah Drier for her report on undocumented migrant children in the US working in factories. The second prize went to a team of British and Iraqi reporters for their story ‘The Hidden Casualties of Britain’s War’.

Fetisov Awards

Finance Minister Barsaman Pun met International Finance Corporation (IFC) Vice President Riccardo Puliti to discuss Nepal’s graduation from the Least Developed Country category by 2026. The IFC promised to continue to work with the Nepal government to increase opportunities for employment, sustainable infrastructure, and increase access to services.

FinMin-IFC

The enigmatic #MeintheSun campaign in which models in yellow dresses and sunglasses paraded through Kathmandu carrying yellow umbrellas, has been revealed to be Lakme’s promotion for two new Made in Nepal sunscreens ‘Sun Expert Ultra Matte Lotion’ at SPF30 and SPF50.

Lakme campaign

You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself any direction you choose. Dr Seuss  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024042606044_61c600f8bb63ccfe9faf1348dafd752fc60f8a94dcd7aabb4a9a1a811ebfa1cf.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2024042606044_61c600f8bb63ccfe9faf1348dafd752fc60f8a94dcd7aabb4a9a1a811ebfa1cf" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Miss Moti #1209"> </figure>

You can steer yourself any direction

ISTANBUL — It is hard to imagine that only 200km away from here on Turkey’s Black Sea coast there is a full-scale war going on which has killed 200,000 people in the past two years.
And to the south, the complete destruction of Gaza with unconscionable violence against Palestinian civilians has escalated into a direct Iran-Israel conflict.
In both wars, the protagonists have atomic weapons or are close to developing them. Russia has threatened to use tactical nuclear weapons in Ukraine, while Israel and Iran have both targeted locations of each other’s nuclear facilities in this week’s drone and missile attacks.
Although there are indications Iran and Israel are exercising restraint, a slight miscalculation could result in a regional conflagration dragging in the Saudis and Emirates. If that happens, the US could also get involved.&nbsp;
A bipartisan vote in the US legislature sanctioning $65 billion worth of weapon systems for Ukraine will prolong the war. Hawks on Russian tv talk shows now openly threaten to nuke not just Ukraine but also London and Paris.&nbsp;
<a href="https://thebulletin.org/doomsday-clock/" target="_blank">The Bulletin of Atomic Scientists</a> has moved its <a href="https://thebulletin.org/2024/01/press-release-doomsday-clock-remains-at-90-seconds-to-midnight/" target="_blank">‘Doomsday Clock’</a> to 90 seconds before midnight because of what it called ‘ominous trends that continue to point the world toward global catastrophe’. This is the closest the clock has ever been to nuclear Armageddon.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/at-home-and-abroad">At home and abroad</a>, Editorial
Besides Russia-Ukraine and Iran-Israel tensions, nuclear nation-states have also proliferated. Aside from the US, Russia, Britain and France, Israel has 90 warheads, India and Pakistan have about 170 each, China has more than 400 and North Korea has 30 with ballistic missiles to deliver them across the Pacific.
Although total warhead stockpiles have declined after the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1990, there is now a new three-pronged US-Russia-China Cold War, and the number of nuclear weapons states has increased.
The threat of nuclear conflict is real enough for <a href="https://www.nytco.com/press/new-york-times-opinion-announces-a-new-series-on-nuclear-threats/" target="_blank">The New York Times to launch a series (titled: At the Brink) </a>to look into the new nuclear arms race and ‘what might be done to make the world safer’.&nbsp;
It is a macabre choice about which is a bigger threat to the Earth in the coming years: a planet cooked by global warming, or destroyed by all-out war leading to a nuclear winter. Robert Frost’s poem Fire and Ice comes to mind:
Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favour fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.&nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/year-of-reckoning">Year of reckoning</a>, Editorial
The way we are headed, the world could ‘perish twice’. The two crises are linked, both have their origins in greed, ambition and ultra-nationalism. It is the result of tribalism and the decline of the multilateral approaches needed to address justice, fairness and co-existence.&nbsp;
The Doomsday Clock was moved to 7 minutes to midnight during the Cuban Missile Crisis. All-out nuclear war was so unthinkable then that most people blocked it from their minds. It is the same now with war and warming.
Here in Nepal, global affairs seem remote to people struggling just to get by from day to day. When news of the war in Ukraine and West Asia does reach the public on mobile devices, it could as well be happening on another planet.&nbsp;
Yet, we in Nepal will be affected. The Ukraine war led to a spike in fuel and food prices worldwide, and Nepal’s economy is still reeling from it. Hundreds of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepalis-play-russian-roulette-in-distant-war" target="_blank">Nepalis are fighting in the Russian Army</a>, and at least 33 have been killed in action with dozens out of contact.
<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/a-nepali-s-lucky-escape-from-hamas" target="_blank">Ten Nepali students were killed</a> by Hamas in Israel, and one is still missing. A broader war in West Asia, aside from the impact on the world economy, would directly affect the estimated 2 million Nepalis working in Saudi Arabia, Qatar, UAE, Oman, Kuwait, Israel and Lebanon. The country is just not prepared for their sudden mass return. &nbsp;
A nuclear war between Israel and Iran is not as unthinkable as it sounds. Hardliners in Israel are calling for nuclear hits on Iran’s atomic research facilities before Tehran develops its own bombs. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/the-destroyer-of-worlds" target="_blank">Prevailing winds would blow radioactive fallout</a> from even a tactical nuclear strike to Pakistan, India and over Nepal.
We now live in a global village. War anywhere will affect Nepalis everywhere.
Editorial: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/new-year-same-difference">New year, same difference</a>, Editorial
Kunda Dixit

War and warming

Through the intricate lattice window on the western facade of the palace must have been from where the Malla kings of Patan looked down at the square below.&nbsp; Today, visitors to Patan Museum can sit at the exact corner and see the same square which, several centuries later, remains largely unchanged. Except for the tourists and devotees at Krishna Mandir and other temples.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240329060316_31791a3a564ecaf85ad9e9ee52488bff034a5336f6561a0df2cb6d8e740cacea.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20240329060316_31791a3a564ecaf85ad9e9ee52488bff034a5336f6561a0df2cb6d8e740cacea" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="A portal into Patan’s past and present Page 6-7 #1025 NT"> <figcaption>Keshav Narayan Chok. All photos: SUMAN NEPALI(Photo: suman)</figcaption> </figure>  Inside is the best-designed museum in Nepal, the work of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Back-to-Basics-in-Bhaktapur,1377">Götz Hagmüller</a> and his team of architects, who had made Bhaktapur his home and who died in February. Hagmüller did not just restore the old palace, but also designed the museum interior and curated the exhibits. But most importantly, the team ensured that the museum would have an independent governing body that would use revenue from fees and events for the museum’s upkeep. This has given the museum a rare longevity for an institution in Nepal. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/kathmandu-s-legacy-is-goetz-hagmueller-s-legacy">Kathmandu’s legacy is Götz Hagmüller’s legacy</a>, Kunda Dixit  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240329060316_460c6ade80ae4064d3f761de57b7a004f9b755645db3185366754b1d2ffe82e4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20240329060316_460c6ade80ae4064d3f761de57b7a004f9b755645db3185366754b1d2ffe82e4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="A portal into Patan’s past and present Page 6-7 #1025 NT"> </figure>  The result is more than one of Kathmandu’s most popular destinations for visitors, but a museum that serves an educational function for Nepali students, supplementing what they learn in social studies and history classes in school. The carefully curated bronze, stone and wooden figures span Nepal’s religious faiths, historical periods and geographical zones, providing a striking experience of exploration and learning. Hagmüller led the restoration project of the Keshav Narayan Chok and the dilapidated palace structure, preserving the traditional architecture of the palace while modernising it to suit modern museum necessities. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/learning-from-nepals-past-to-rebuild-its-future/" target="_blank">Learning from Nepal's past to rebuilt its future</a>, Prakriti Kandel  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240329060316_bfc89739080a1339c9db8a83c7bc332aea37893f6cd9cb506b1a369ac9a68d00.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20240329060316_bfc89739080a1339c9db8a83c7bc332aea37893f6cd9cb506b1a369ac9a68d00" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="A portal into Patan’s past and present Page 6-7 #1025 NT"> </figure>  At a time when technology has taken over, and patience to learn through real experiences has decreased, Patan Museum is a space for young students and visitors to learn about Nepal’s glorious past, its culture, and observe intricate Nepali craftsmanship. “Patan Museum is a place of learning regarding two major aspects: heritage and art, specifically relating to Hinduism and Buddhism,” explains Suresh Man Lakhe of Patan Museum. “Students may learn about Buddha’s life in their textbooks, but the museum supplements that learning by letting them visualise his legacy.” &nbsp; Only 200 of the Museum’s expansive collection of 1,100 objects are currently on view, and they are spread across eight themed galleries. Images range from major gods of the Hindu pantheon such as Vishnu, Shiva and Ganesh to benign or fierce representations of Bodhisattvas.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/preserving-patan-post-earthquake">Preserving Patan post-earthquake</a>, Claire Burket  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240329060316_40b0b223afe15566e200ac14f69a527eacc736b040f5b5d982930aa601c51b41.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20240329060316_40b0b223afe15566e200ac14f69a527eacc736b040f5b5d982930aa601c51b41" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="A portal into Patan’s past and present Page 6-7 #1025 NT"> <figcaption>Dipankara Buddha</figcaption> </figure>  The section on Buddhist chaityas has clear explanatory notes about the significance of their design. No student will look at Swayambhu or Boudha after learning why the spire and cupola look the way they do. Indeed, all the exhibits have bilingual captions with comprehensive backgrounds about the myths and symbols present in the art pieces and their approximate age. This helps answer frequently asked questions from students such as the reason behind the multiple heads and hands of deities, the symbolic ornaments of Shiva and Vishnu, and the significance of the stupa design.&nbsp; The composition, medium, symbols, and expressions of bronze gilt copper repoussé are explained in detail, including the craftsmanship of the lost wax process. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/bedrock-of-buddhism">Bedrock of Buddhism</a>, Kunda Dixit  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240329060316_8e1bcf9bace65f4b7ba2c8b05cf92337b1f54d12776ebc0841bd179b56faf7a9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20240329060316_8e1bcf9bace65f4b7ba2c8b05cf92337b1f54d12776ebc0841bd179b56faf7a9" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="A portal into Patan’s past and present Page 6-7 #1025 NT"> <figcaption>Students can learn in detail the process of creating a repoussé mask at the Patan Museum.</figcaption> </figure>  Gallery B has explanations of Ganesh in a military avatar, ablaze with a flaming backdrop, and another of the elephantine god with six heads and six arms. He rests on snakes in one sculpture and is part of an oil lamp in another. There are nuanced variations in the depiction of Ganesh’s eyes and trunks in each of the objects. "Patan Museum, and indeed the whole Darbar Square, is a living heritage where our students learn history through the architecture, art, culture, and festivals,” says Rekha Pandey, a social studies teacher and educator at Rato Bangala Foundation. “It is ideal learning as the museum exhibits provide a multi-sensory experience that cannot be found in textbooks or lectures.” Museum staff are planning interactive worksheets and cards as learning devices with colourful and interactive worksheets ‘Let’s Discover Patan Darbar’ that allow students to navigate the historic square.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/itumbahas-living-museum">Itumbaha's living museum</a>, Sahina Shrestha  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240329060316_1d6a101fa7f8c593070171abbf2866b73497ac3a10f5660bb716f1aa85da9aa6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20240329060316_1d6a101fa7f8c593070171abbf2866b73497ac3a10f5660bb716f1aa85da9aa6" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="A portal into Patan’s past and present Page 6-7 #1025 NT"> <figcaption>A 12th-century limestone sculpture of Uma-Maheswar depicting Shiva’s family on Mount Kailash.</figcaption> </figure>  Lakhe says the museum can expand its instructional function with a separate education department. “With additional resources devoted to education, we can focus on creating much more learning opportunities for students,” he adds. &nbsp; There is a story behind every exhibit at the Museum. Gallery B, for example, hosts a 12th-century limestone sculpture of Uma-Maheswar depicting Shiva’s divine family on Mount Kailash. This statue was stolen in 1982 and then returned by a museum in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/how-did-a-nepali-ritual-altar-end-up-in-berlin">Berlin</a> in 1990. Another piece shows Vishnu carried by the Sunbird, a copper alloy sculpture dating back to the 17th century, adorned with metallic Garuda wings. Students can learn in detail the process of creating a repoussé mask, from an initial pencil design to the feeling of the hammer hitting the bronze sheet. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/remembering-nepals-lost-and-the-found">Remembering Nepal's lost and the found</a>, Ashish Dhakal  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240329060316_4431f200938cef4be6b390dbde827c0973d85c2ab36dcc1669e6b9dc92319f3e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_14" data-image-id="20240329060316_4431f200938cef4be6b390dbde827c0973d85c2ab36dcc1669e6b9dc92319f3e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="A portal into Patan’s past and present Page 6-7 #1025 NT"> <figcaption>Tusha Hiti where King Siddhi Narsingh Malla used to pray and meditate in the 1640s.</figcaption> </figure>  Patan Museum provides an open-air experience, it is not limited to a building but has access to multiple courtyards including the Mul Chok and Sundari Chok with the exquisite Tusha Hiti step well, and the Bhandarkhal Tank. One of the treasures of the Patan Museum is Tusha Hiti step well where King Siddhi Narsingh Malla used to pray and meditate in the 1640s overlooking a gilded copper spout depicting a Garuda and Laxmi Narayan, and embellished by over 50 carved stone deities in thrones of carved foliage. Visitors can retrace the steps of past royals and their court treading the same stone steps that have been polished by the passage of feet and time.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/patan-heritage-in-fantasy-fiction">Patan heritage in fantasy fiction</a>, Trishagni Sakya

A portal into Patan’s past and present

Formal education in schools and universities became available to ordinary Nepalis only 70 years ago. But even then women were not encouraged to get an education.&nbsp; The 1971 Education Plan laid out a strategy to raise literacy levels, and encouraged girls’ enrollment in schools. Over the decades, female teachers were added to school faculties, girls were given scholarships and free basic education and women’s rights were enshrined in the Constitution.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240317070340_f88f873c913f8f2462393927e5e05021cf1f9819eab883262f3e000895765dec.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20240317070340_f88f873c913f8f2462393927e5e05021cf1f9819eab883262f3e000895765dec" data-rendition-name="original" width="6000" height="4000" loading="lazy" alt="age no bar"> <figcaption>ALL PHOTOS: GOPEN RAI</figcaption> </figure>  The progress is undeniable: Nepal now boasts near-equal enrollment rates for both boys and girls at primary level. However, dropout rates for young women is still high in secondary and higher education. The female literacy rate is 69.4% compared to 83.6% for males. Socio-cultural norms, poverty, child marriage and lack of proper sanitation facilities in schools are factors hindering equal access to education.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240317070340_9d99549d1480caacc3aa9ced49dc83cdea6148a5df4a3e53d3297f95e9bf2ff9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20240317070340_9d99549d1480caacc3aa9ced49dc83cdea6148a5df4a3e53d3297f95e9bf2ff9" data-rendition-name="original" width="6000" height="4000" loading="lazy" alt="age no bar"> </figure>  But in a case of better late than never, older women who were denied education when young are enrolling in formal education. “We have studied that men and women are wheels of the same chariot. How can the chariot move forward when one wheel is well oiled and the other is not,” asks Anjana Maharjan, Principal of Shradha Mahila Alternative Secondary School in Swayambhu that offers classes from Grade 1 through 10 for girls 12 years and above.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240317070328_b4438e12d33f45dda5b8f285735c0ffc66230fc2f4e3f27267f4e88da7c1b24d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20240317070328_b4438e12d33f45dda5b8f285735c0ffc66230fc2f4e3f27267f4e88da7c1b24d" data-rendition-name="original" width="6000" height="4000" loading="lazy" alt="Age no bar"> </figure>  “When a man is educated, the house prospers, whereas when a woman is educated, the family prospers. When a family is capable, the village becomes capable. When a village becomes capable, the country develops,” she adds. But the road back to the classroom is not always smooth. Household chores for women often leave little time for studies. The social stigma of starting school later in life or the fear of being judged can be deterrents for some. Many lack of support from their families, and have to lie about going to school.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240317070340_f10385968c6fd0a31856b9e6da39648857c9e039a40265cad19301bbc0cd9a5e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20240317070340_f10385968c6fd0a31856b9e6da39648857c9e039a40265cad19301bbc0cd9a5e" data-rendition-name="original" width="5719" height="3812" loading="lazy" alt="age no bar"> </figure>  “There are students here who come here while telling their family that they are going to work,” says Prabha Chalise, Principal at Prerana Mahila Secondary School in Satdobato that provides classes for young women 14 years and older.&nbsp; Some women stay on after class to finish their assignments and leave their books in school so that no one back home finds out.&nbsp; “Society and family should encourage women, they must inspire them and push them to get an education, not judge them for it,” says Chalise. Meet some of the women achieving their lifelong dream of attending school: Indra Kumari Ale, 71  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240317070320_6074a2419e92ce4ac3d3bf285dd8dcfd6a07121b2622920c64f9acb65919d738.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20240317070320_6074a2419e92ce4ac3d3bf285dd8dcfd6a07121b2622920c64f9acb65919d738" data-rendition-name="original" width="3840" height="2416" loading="lazy" alt="Indra Kumari Ale"> </figure>  Every morning, Indra Kumari Ale takes a half an hour walk from her home in Kusunti to Prerana Mahila Secondary School in Satdobato, carrying a blue and purple backpack. Once inside the brown gates, she makes her way to the second floor and takes her place inside the classroom. Growing up in Syangja, Ale got basic education, but her father thought girls did not need education and married her off at the age of 18. Her husband was in the Indian army, and Ale took care of her in-laws while he was away serving.&nbsp; For 25 years, the two maintained a long-distance relationship and her husband would only be home during holidays. Because she herself could not go to school, Ale made sure all her children did. Her two older daughters were married off after completing high school, and her youngest daughter has completed medical school. &nbsp;&nbsp; During all the time she was home looking after the family, Ale yearned to go to school but that dream never materialised until 2015 when her youngest daughter, convinced her to join the school for women. &nbsp; She started in Grade 1, and excelled in studies, got the highest scores in class skipped grades. “It was easy in the lower classes, even till class 7/8, but it is more difficult now more so because of my age, my eyes and ears have started to fail,” she says.&nbsp; Last year, Ale sat for her SEE exams, which she says was “fun”, giving the test with other students who were her grandchildren’s age.&nbsp; “The students as well as the teachers there showed me love and respect as I was sitting for exams at my age. I did not think I would pass, but I did,” she says.&nbsp; Until then not many outside Ale’s family knew she was going to school. When the results were announced, people from her locality came to know that she had passed the SEE exams, and they came together to honour her for her achievement.&nbsp; Now in Grade 11, she is proud of her decision to go to school. “In the past when my neighbours asked where I was going carrying a backpack, I would say I’m going for a walk,” says Ale. “These days everyone in my community knows I go to school and they love and respect me for continuing my education.” Education has not only given Ale recognition in her family and society but has also helped her become more independent. “From reading signboards to hailing buses, I can do all that by myself now,” she says. “Now, I understand English even if I can’t speak it properly yet, I did not think I’d be able to do all this at this age.” Prem Kumari Rajkoti Magar, 55  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240317070320_2f9f1b34ba9ec0f43524398cea9ef85d1f0864310e2434e522d80c0367278885.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20240317070320_2f9f1b34ba9ec0f43524398cea9ef85d1f0864310e2434e522d80c0367278885" data-rendition-name="original" width="5880" height="3892" loading="lazy" alt="Prem Kumari Rajkoti Magar"> <figcaption>Prem Kumari Rajkoti Magar, 55</figcaption> </figure>  In the mountains of Palpa, Prem Kumari Rajkoti Magar was known for her dulcet voice and an interest in singing. Villagers would invite her to perform in rodhi, dohori and other programs. She happily obliged. Over the years, she published two albums and played small roles in Nepali tele serials but she was troubled by the fact that she did not know how to read or write. She came to Kathmandu 25 years ago, where her husband landed a job. She also looked for jobs in offices, but they said the most she was capable of was cleaning and mopping floors.&nbsp; “I faced a lot of humiliation because I could not read or write,” recalls Magar. Once, while auditioning for a role in a Nepali movie, she was handed her lines. A younger woman read them out for her so she could memorise them, but not before remarking, “Why would a person who cannot even read the lines apply?” &nbsp; She was embarrassed, and the comment damaged her confidence. She fumbled through the audition and was not surprised when she did not get the role. “Even when singing, I kept thinking that if I knew how to read, I wouldn’t have to struggle to memorise all the words, I could even write my own songs,” says Magar. “All of these life experiences taught me the importance of education.” Magar always wanted to study but growing up she never had the chance to because “education was never a priority in the village” and for her parents. Once she was married, she was too busy taking care of the household.&nbsp; Magar had given up on ever learning to read when she learnt of Shraddha Mahila Alternative Secondary School in Swayambhu, and made up her mind to enroll. Her husband and sons supported her decision, and she got enrolled in Grade 1.&nbsp; “I did not feel embarrassed to study with students who were younger than me, plus there were others who were similar to me in age and older learning their alphabets too,” she says.&nbsp; For nearly two years, she has been taking care of household chores and rushing to school every morning. &nbsp;This year she had to take two months off from school when her daughter-in-law gave birth but is now back in class. Now in Grade 2, Magar diligently attends school from 11am to 3pm every weekday and says she can now confidently sign her name in both English and Nepali, and use her mobile phone. She wants to study as long as she is healthy and can move around. “I am happy that I get to study at this age,” says Magar. “Women should study so that they can be financially and socially independent. When they are educated they will know the ways of the world, they won't get cheated, they can maintain their privacy and more importantly they can voice their opinion.” Shobha Thapa, 60  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240317070324_9e63b29002a8c8a3a5b9409716fba9e810ada69adbf6a3e055f50181b1f76553.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20240317070324_9e63b29002a8c8a3a5b9409716fba9e810ada69adbf6a3e055f50181b1f76553" data-rendition-name="original" width="4627" height="3084" loading="lazy" alt="Shobha Thapa"> <figcaption>Shobha Thapa, 60</figcaption> </figure>  When she was young, Shobha Thapa learned to recognise the Nepali alphabets by peeking and eavesdropping on her siblings' lessons. She never got to go to school, and once married got too busy raising children. But she made sure her children would get the best education and enrolled them in English medium schools. “The teachers would talk to me in English,” recalls Thapa. “I couldn’t understand anything but I was too embarrassed to admit it or ask what they meant.” At home, she would often feel excluded when people said she would not understand the issue because she was uneducated. “There are simply too many humiliations for me to recount now. But what they all taught me was that education is important,” says Thapa. She could not muster up the courage to tell her husband about her desire to go to school. But one day he himself brought home a newspaper featuring a story of Prerana Mahila Secondary School. She told him she wanted to enroll, and he agreed.&nbsp; Her youngest son had just come home after graduating from an engineering college, so she asked him to take her to the school for admissions. Thapa finally started school at age 50.&nbsp; “I cannot describe the feeling of happiness on that first day,” says Thapa who is now in Grade 11. “I felt that I had already achieved a lot.” Her zeal was so strong she would have her books open when she was cooking or doing laundry.&nbsp; Thapa was the top performing student till the pandemic hit. “I did not know how to use a laptop, but managed to take online classes,” says Thapa who was much happier when physical classes resumed. She says she still needs to work on her English.&nbsp; After passing her SEE exams last year, she has felt a shift in people’s attitude towards her. “People who called me hariyo kakro (why eat green cucumbers when it’s time to die) now show respect and ask me for help,” she says.&nbsp; Thapa wants to continue in her path and is proud of what she has achieved. She doesn’t hesitate to tell everyone that she is in school or encourage other women to start studying. She adds, “Education opens up the world. It is what makes us human beings and it is especially important for women because she needs to be strong to face the world.” Surya Kumari Shrestha, 67  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240317070344_315fbecadb75acba0c8abd602bcc3d53d5bc0bb98e60ec378e942022b3a9d447.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20240317070344_315fbecadb75acba0c8abd602bcc3d53d5bc0bb98e60ec378e942022b3a9d447" data-rendition-name="original" width="4344" height="2866" loading="lazy" alt="Surya Kumari Shrestha"> </figure>  As a child, Surya Kumari Shrestha never went to school even though there was one in her village. She did attend kindergarten, writing on slates with chalk. But she never continued in school. Later when her contemporaries went on to hold jobs and some worked as teachers, she regretted not studying, and spent most of her life thinking ‘what if’. 20 years ago, she moved to Kathmandu. In her new home, there was a telephone that her family members used often. “Everyone dialed different numbers to talk to different people and I wondered how they did that,” remembers Shrestha. “I had no idea how it worked.” Today, she comfortably uses her mobile and talks to her daughters and video calls her son in Japan. “I dial the numbers myself and call whoever I want to call,” she says. “Maybe I cannot do everything, but I can do more now than when I did not go to school.” A student of Grade 8 at Shraddha Mahila Alternative Secondary School, for Shrestha the decision to join the school was not just to study but also for companionship.&nbsp; With her son abroad and her daughters married, Shrestha lives alone with her dog Pinki. “If I don’t come to school, I don’t have anyone to talk to. Here I have friends and I get to learn new things,” she says.&nbsp; Her children, relatives and neighbours all know that she is attending school and support her decision. On days when she is at home, her neighbours ask why she is missing class.&nbsp; Education has given her the confidence to face the world as a single woman. Recently when she was asked for her thumbprints on a document, she replied that she could sign her own name.&nbsp; Says Shrestha, “I want to sit for SEE exams and then go to college. Education has brought about many positive changes in my life.” Nirmala Chhetri, 56  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240317070324_0335aab1fa79e1f2a4bd421c12538054a5c571d9fec53b1d199c281882781a12.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20240317070324_0335aab1fa79e1f2a4bd421c12538054a5c571d9fec53b1d199c281882781a12" data-rendition-name="original" width="6000" height="4000" loading="lazy" alt="Nirmala Chhetri"> <figcaption>Nirmala Chhetri, 56</figcaption> </figure>  Nirmala Chhetri is a social activist and an entrepreneur. Over the years, she worked at various hotels, opened and operated a women’s cooperative, ran her own tailoring business and is now with the Godavari Chamber of Commerce and Industry.&nbsp; On the outside, her life looked good, but Chhetri secretly yearned to continue her education. After her high school exams, she had learned to type. Her accuracy and speed brought in an offer for a government job, but she had to turn it because her family’s disapproval.&nbsp; In 1985, she passed her SLC exams and joined Namuna Machhindra College for her IA, but she had to put her studies on hold and get married. Her home life took precedence as she brought up her children. Because she could not study to her heart’s content, she made sure all three of her children, especially her daughter went to school. Two of her children are now in Australia and her son works with Nepal Airlines. “I always wanted to continue my studies,” says Chhetri. “But when I joined the Chamber of Commerce and Industry, the men there were much more educated than me. This made me feel a bit inferior, but it also made me more determined.”&nbsp; She joined Prerana Mahila Secondary School in Grade 11 and plans to continue on to do a bachelor’s in law.&nbsp; “I feel happy. I feel proud of myself and have regained my confidence,” says Chhetri. “I now think I can do much more in life.” Chhetri's family is fully supportive, and with her children all grown up, she feels this is the time to invest in her own personal growth. &nbsp; “We women have reached this point by sacrificing a lot, so our family and children had opportunities,” says Chhetri. “Why should we give up opportunities at this point in our lives too? Women are now free, we should make the most of it.”

Age no bar to go to school

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For decades, water scarcity, subsistence farming and debt had been driving farmers away from the village of Aathrai in this district of eastern Nepal. The elderly here tell the true story of one lot of people who decades ago were on their seasonal migration down to Jhapa in the plains. In their four-day trek south, they were spending the first night under a tree by the banks of the Tamor River. As night fell, they heard a crowd of people with their livestock, coming down the path. They held flaming torches, talked loudly and their laughter carried across the river. The travellers thought they were seeing ghosts, and watched warily. The people on the opposite side filled their brass jars with water, the cows drank their fill, then they climbed slowly back up the steep path along which they had descended. &nbsp; The migrants watched the torches until they reached the top of the ridge and disappeared into Terathum district. The next morning they found out those were villagers who came down every night with their cattle to collect water because springs up the mountain had gone dry. That is when the people from Terathum realised that their home villages had it much better because the villagers of their district did not have to make nightly water ferry trips up and down the mountain.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240412100444_18f42bb370b81af9e0d8b06c433b77e7e4986dd1aabb3fc8403ff42570051668.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20240412100444_18f42bb370b81af9e0d8b06c433b77e7e4986dd1aabb3fc8403ff42570051668" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="795" loading="lazy" alt="people and mountains are thirsty in eastern Nepal"> <figcaption>Photos: GIRIRAJ BANSKOTA</figcaption> </figure>  More, but still not enough Till recently, wards in Chhathar village in Terathum used to have such a severe water shortage that families had to borrow water like they borrowed money. The nearest spring was two hours walk away, and there would already be up to 60 jars in the queue. It was the job of women to fetch water, and they would trudge home with two jars in baskets on their backs and two plastic containers in their hands. “This added to the drudgery of women, would delay the preparation of meals for the family and sending children to school, there was no time to clean the house, the livestock were always thirsty and would give less milk,” explains Tara Kharel Dhakal, deputy chair of Chhathar Rural Municipality.&nbsp; She adds: “There are settlements where water shortage is still acute, but we have managed to pipe drinking water to 90% of the households.” Ward 3 Chair Deuman Limbu agrees that drinking water is less of an issue now, but says lack of water is still affecting dairy and vegetable farming which would have improved nutrition and increased cash income of villagers. Chhathar’s water shortage was alleviated by building a channel from a stream 14km away. There are cliffs along the way where pipes have been laid, but these are often damaged by landslides, wildfires, and maintenance is difficult. In large parts of Nepal, including here in the east, the main reason people &nbsp;migrate out is because of the lack of drinking water. And although most people here remember the water crisis being much more serious in the past, there is still not enough in the dry season. There used to be a tradition in Nepal’s mountains that travellers could get free food and lodging for the night from villagers along the way, and this would be reciprocated when they themselves needed to stop for the night. It was the same with water: those walking along foot trails would be offered water for free since people believed it would earn them merit in heaven.&nbsp; But not in villages like Thoklung today, where travellers know how precious water is, and offer to pay for a drink. Springs are going dry across Nepal’s mid-mountains from east to west, partly due to erratic rainfall caused by the climate crisis but also because of over-extraction. Spring water used to be mainly for household use and the extra water would flow down the mountain, seep into the soil and recharge groundwater. These days, farmers pipe water to their homes from nearby springs to irrigate cash crops like cardamom or vegetables.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240412100444_d9353b6fc297e5b547ac683814801bd57d460f2481be475c60c4f6d7e8f5c8d9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20240412100444_d9353b6fc297e5b547ac683814801bd57d460f2481be475c60c4f6d7e8f5c8d9" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="900" loading="lazy" alt="people and mountains are thirsty in eastern Nepal"> </figure>  “New roads drain water away, preventing recharge,” explains watershed expert Madhukar Upadhyay. “Paddy terraces used to store water that slowly seeped into the slopes, but with outmigration there is less rice being planted which in turn has affected the water table.” Read Also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/climate-crisis-drought-food-deficit-migration">Climate crisis → drought → food deficit → migration</a>, Mohan Mainali Power to pump water Necessity is the mother of invention, so desperate villages in eastern Nepal have adopted innovative new ways to ensure water supply. Thirsty families in the parched Kummayak village of Panchthar used to look down longingly at the blue-green waters of the glacier-fed Tamor River. They decided that instead of migrating to the Tarai, they might as well try to pump the water to their village. Nine years ago, they launched a project to dig a well near the river and pump the water up the mountain and distribute drinking water to 2,000 of the 3,200 households in Kummayak. &nbsp; But chronic drought has reduced the dry season flow in the Tamor, and villagers had to divert the river’s channel closer to the well to maintain water supply. The Tamor Drinking Water Pumping Project is now digging another well at a cost of Rs10 million to augment supply.&nbsp; Learning from Kummayak, 11 other projects are planned to pump Tamor water up to mountain villages. Some villages that would have benefited, like Aathrai, have just heard the bad news that the federal government does not have the budget to fund their Rs20 million well and pumping station.&nbsp; Part of the reason there is not enough money is because budgets are also being misused. For example, the central and provincial government are working at cross-purposes and duplicating drinking water schemes. The federal government has a Rs3.5 million pump project in the same place where the Kosi Province has set aside Rs2 million also to lift drinking water. &nbsp;&nbsp; The water shortage is even more severe in Dhankuta district, where in Chaubise village Ward 3, a Rs80 million project is underway to pump water up from a spring down the mountain.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240412100444_d0f87ea50060253998ef932e5c6f30f20912d8733c40014cef4cc8c16e8270ae.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20240412100444_d0f87ea50060253998ef932e5c6f30f20912d8733c40014cef4cc8c16e8270ae" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="795" loading="lazy" alt="people and mountains are thirsty in eastern Nepal"> <figcaption>Before lift pumped water was distributed in Syabrumba of Panchthar district, villages had to wait for their quota of water. Today 60% of the household has piped drinking water. Photo: GIRIRAJ BANSKOTA</figcaption> </figure>  All these districts of eastern Nepal have lost more than a third of their population in the past 20 years, and local governments see improved water supply as a way to bring their people back. The population of Thoklung village of Terathum was 40% less in 2021 than what it was in 2001, so its municipality is working on a pumping scheme to lift water from the Tamor to distribute every household in Ward 7. Ward Chair Rohit Kandengwa, however, is worried that the project’s electricity bill would mean that the household water tariff will be too high.&nbsp; Indeed, spring water can flow down to a village by gravity. But pumping water from a river to a ridgetop village can be expensive. The Kummayak project, for example, has an electricity bill of Rs600,000 per month.&nbsp; “Water has value. We charge 10 paisa per litre of water and that could be expensive to those who are used to free water, but it is better than no water at all, and it is cheaper than water from tankers,” says Nirmal Ghimire, chair of Kummayak Ward 5.&nbsp; But there are other non-monetary benefits from water pumps, like in curbing outmigration. For the past two years, no families have migrated out of Kummayak village since it got regular water supply. To be sure, ensuring water supply alone will not stop people since there are other push factors at play: difficulty to access medical care, low quality of public schools, lack of jobs, the government’s low priority for agriculture driving people away from farming. “Farmers here used to sell milk, but they have not been paid for their milk since nine months,” says Chhathar Ward 4 Chair Pushpa Karki. “They cannot sell their goats, middle men fix the price for cardamom and ginger.” The chhurpi and ghee industries have dried up, and dairy farmers have no place to sell milk. It is also a seller’s market, and farmers have to buy everything, without credit, and cannot determine the price of their produce.&nbsp; Lack of connectivity is another reason people migrate from these remote districts. It has been 12 years since construction began on the bridge at Lumughat across the Tamor River that would have linked Terathum and Panchthar, making it easier to take produce to market towns. &nbsp; Better roads would also improve the quality of instruction – the other reason many families move to Dharan or Kathmandu. Accessibility would motivate teachers to stay in villages. There is also a herd mentality that drives migration. If one household moves out, the entire neighbourhood ups and moves. Ten of former school principal Hari Narayan Bhattarai’s neigbours locked up their homes and moved down to the Tarai partly due to lack of water. Bhattarai lost the support of next door families that he used to rely on, so he also moved to Birtamod of Jhapa in the plains. Households in the mountains need each other to survive. Neighbours help neighbours to plough, plant and harvest.&nbsp; And then there is the litany of woes that all Nepalis face: the delays in getting driving licenses, work permits, and other services. People move to where life is easier. &nbsp; Outmigration also makes pre-existing problems of the mountains worse. Where forests are growing out of fallow terrace fields, with no one to forage for dried undergrowth fire risk has increased, crops are damaged by wildlife, and the decline in livestock has reduced soil fertility. &nbsp; “The main reason for outmigration is lack of water and low productivity,” says Chhathar Deputy Chair Dhakal whose village announced grants of up to Rs500,000 to start up agrobusinesses. Thirty families did return. However, there were no takers for Dhakal’s offer of Rs10,000 to households farming their fallow fields again.&nbsp; Even if rural municipalities find the money to install well and pumps for water supply, paying for maintenance or repairs of broken pipes or pumps can be a problem due to lack of budget. Watershed expert Madhukar Upadhyay concedes that pumping water from a river to villages in the mountains is only a short-term fix, but not a sustainable solution. “Over the long-term we must think of reviving traditional system of ponds near springs where water can collect and re-charge groundwater,” he explains. “That way we address the thirst of both the people and the mountains.” &nbsp; This is the second of a 3-part series supported by Barbara Foundation.The third and last instalment will appear on the 26 April edition.&nbsp;

People and mountains are thirsty in eastern Nepal

Rainfall data from eastern Nepal collected over the past 70 years point to a strong <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-waste-land">correlation between chronic drought and outmigration</a>. Repeated and more frequent monsoon failures forced more and more people to abandon villages.&nbsp; Terathum, Dhankuta, Panchthar and Taplejung districts lost more than 40% of their population between 2001 and 2021. Archival data of the Department of Hydrology and Meteorology shows that rainfall was below the annual national average for almost every year since the 1960s in what is supposed to be the wettest part of the country.&nbsp; In Panchakanya village of Terathum 40% of residents left in those 20 years. A nearby village, Thoklung, lost 42% of its population. Across the Tamor River, 44% of the people left the village of Kurule. A third of the inhabitants of Symbarumba in Panchthar left for the plains or cities.&nbsp; “People are still leaving. Those who have not migrated are also thinking about going down to Dharan or Damak,” says Chathar Ward 4 Chair Pushpa Karki, who says there were 2,500 votes cast in this ward in 2017 and in the 2022 local election there were only 1,125 ballots.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-climate-crisis-is-a-water-crisis-in-the-himalaya">The climate crisis is a water crisis in the Himalaya</a>, Sonia Awale To be sure, there are other factors behind this exodus which is happening right across Nepal’s mountains, such as a dearth of well-paying jobs, poor health care, and few opportunities for higher education. But the main reason is that <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/high-and-dry">droughts</a> destroy crops.&nbsp; “There was a severe drought in the summer of 2018, the maize plants dried in their stalks and turned to straw,” remembers Tara Kharel Dhakal, Deputy Mayor of Chathar in Terathum. “People ran out of food and were desperate. We declared an emergency.”&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240406020432_abeec2acd7e0b1986c5a101109365ea57f70e81925fb522a5e2edf191eefbd98.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20240406020432_abeec2acd7e0b1986c5a101109365ea57f70e81925fb522a5e2edf191eefbd98" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Climate → crisis → drought → food → deficit → migration"> <figcaption>HIGH AND DRY, LOW AND WET: Parched fields above the Tamor River in Panchakanya village in eastern Nepal in March (above) and irrigated bamboo-fringed terrace farms in Taplejung.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240406020432_d56cdd7be3761fac279a5add402d766cceef89bf1a535066acd30576e81b8613.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20240406020432_d56cdd7be3761fac279a5add402d766cceef89bf1a535066acd30576e81b8613" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Climate → crisis → drought → food → deficit → migration"> </figure>  Rainfall data for Terathum in 2018 corroborates that there was almost no rain in winter, and to make things worse, the district only saw half of its usual rain that monsoon.&nbsp; The rainfall gauges are located near the tops of mountains, where there is usually more precipitation. So the slopes below likely got even less rain than was recorded.&nbsp; Farmers had no irrigation systems to fall back on. <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Recharging-the-mountains,3465#google_vignette">Springs are rare and have gone dry,</a> and the Tamor River is too far down the mountain.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240406020444_9d23945324a19dfcecf26cafe19a9ac9cc4a11abfde5bde9e4bbbea9c64ca916.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20240406020444_9d23945324a19dfcecf26cafe19a9ac9cc4a11abfde5bde9e4bbbea9c64ca916" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Climate → crisis → drought → food → deficit → migration"> <figcaption>BROWN AND GREEN: Constrasting colours of fields in Terathum between those without irrigation (foreground, above), and with irrigation from a side stream. The glacier-fed Tamor River has plenty of water in the dry season (below) but it is too far down to be pumped up the mountain.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240406020444_d31629e168b47eb330543f3f3ac992778bccea52fe32446a776580194b143214.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20240406020444_d31629e168b47eb330543f3f3ac992778bccea52fe32446a776580194b143214" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1018" loading="lazy" alt="Climate → crisis → drought → food → deficit → migration"> </figure>  Prevailing wisdom suggests that Nepal is drier the more west you go, and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/how-the-climate-crisis-adds-to-child-marriage-in-nepal">the Karnali and Sudur Paschim regions are most drought prone</a>. Outmigration due to water scarcity in Mustang district has emptied villages. But it looks like the climate crisis is causing dry spells even in the usually wet mountains of eastern Nepal.&nbsp; Only a quarter of arable land in Nepal is irrigated, and most of that is in the Tarai. Subsistence farmers in the mountains depend on rain-fed agriculture, so when it does not rain their only option is to migrate for work. Rainfall data from measuring stations over the past 50 years or more across the eastern mountains shows that winter rain and monsoon failures have become more frequent.&nbsp; y nly 80% of the normal annual rain fell in 2018 in Mulghat, and the corn and buckwheat harvests were reduced in nearby Kurule. The local government gave cash handouts to farmers, but this did not convince people to stay. <div class="embed-block"><iframe title="Tamor river discharge at Mulghat" aria-label="Interactive line chart" id="datawrapper-chart-8t8ts" src="https://datawrapper.dwcdn.net/8t8ts/2/" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" style="width: 0; min-width: 100% !important; border: none;" height="396" data-external="1"></iframe><script type="text/javascript">!function(){"use strict";window.addEventListener("message",(function(a){if(void 0!==a.data["datawrapper-height"]){var e=document.querySelectorAll("iframe");for(var t in a.data["datawrapper-height"])for(var r=0;r<e.length;r++)if(e[r].contentWindow===a.source){var i=a.data["datawrapper-height"][t]+"px";e[r].style.height=i}}}))}(); </script></div> In an average year, Jhapa and Ilam in the east get about 3,300mm of rain. Kathmandu Valley sees about 1,400mm, and Darchula in the far-west receives 700mm. The least precipitation is in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/mustang-forced-to-adapt-to-climate-crisis">Mustang</a> and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/climate-change-is-a-disaster-in-the-nepal-himalaya">Dolpo in the trans-Himalayan rainshadow</a>, although even these districts have seen some freak rainfall of late.&nbsp; Even though the total annual precipitation may still be the same, often the quality of rain is different: there are damaging torrential downpours and then weeks of no rain at all.&nbsp; Watershed expert Madhukar Upadhya describes eastern Nepal’s micro-climates, where wide variations exist even within small geographical areas: “The clouds tend to drop most of their moisture on the southern slopes of the Mahabharat Range, so there is less rain on the other side.”&nbsp; Dharan, for instance, gets 1,700mm of rain, but 15km to the north in Mulghat, the annual precipitation is half that.&nbsp; Elderly farmers can recite from memory the years in which rains have failed: 1961, 1965, 1972, 1975, 1982, 1994. Their recollections tally with archival precipitation data for the region. For example, there was a downpour that dumped 385mm of rain on 23-24 June 1961, but for the next two months there was only 180mm. “I was young in 1961 and there was always either too much rain or too little, the fields were fallow and we had no food,” remembers Dikura Devi Thapaliya in Terathum. “Only those who had springs and could irrigate their fields had harvests that year.”&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/first-drought-then-downpour">First drought, then downpour</a>, Smita Magar Four years later, there was another drought that caused a famine, forcing families to forage for wild roots. In Iwa, the town council asked households that had extra grain to sell it to neighbours, but no one was willing. The villagers did not have food for the 10-day trek down to Dharan to collect government rations, so food was air dropped by the state.&nbsp; Even worse was the nationwide drought of 1972, when the British Royal Air Force helped Nepal with Hercules aircraft to drop grain by parachute in what it called Operation Khana Cascade. Some 52 tons were dropped on Taplejung and Terathum alone.&nbsp; This was the Panchayat era, and even the usually-understated government controlled news agency, RSS, filed a report from eastern Nepal about the terrible conditions: ‘The harvest of corn and buckwheat has failed in villages around Dhankuta. Rice harvests are one-third of normal. There is starvation in Terathum. Many have migrated to the Tarai or elsewhere, or are working as coolies along the Dharan-Dhankuta road.’ <div class="embed-block"><iframe title="The Rain in Dhankuta" aria-label="Interactive line chart" id="datawrapper-chart-gKSl5" src="https://datawrapper.dwcdn.net/gKSl5/2/" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" style="width: 0; min-width: 100% !important; border: none;" height="423" data-external="1"></iframe><script type="text/javascript">!function(){"use strict";window.addEventListener("message",(function(a){if(void 0!==a.data["datawrapper-height"]){var e=document.querySelectorAll("iframe");for(var t in a.data["datawrapper-height"])for(var r=0;r<e.length;r++)if(e[r].contentWindow===a.source){var i=a.data["datawrapper-height"][t]+"px";e[r].style.height=i}}}))}(); </script></div> The next serious drought was in 1982, with Terathum getting a record low of only 254mm of rain – only 38% of normal monsoon precipitation.&nbsp; The Tamor had never been so dry before that, nor has it since. Hydrological data acquired by Nepali Times show that in September 1982 river flow was only 15% of mean for that month. Ninety percent of the maize crop in the east was destroyed, paddy wilted before it could be transplanted. The rice terraces were barren.&nbsp; Nepal’s two neighbours donated grain so that villagers would not starve. More than 2,500 farmers from Terathum made the four-day trek down to Dhankuta to collect 100kg sacks of wheat from India, or maize from China. Even the desert kingdom of Saudi Arabia donated 5,000 tons of rice and 2,500 tons of wheat.&nbsp; Not much has changed in the villages of Terathum and along the banks of the Tamor since – except that there are fewer people. Farmers who remain still depend on timely and adequate rain to keep their soil watered.&nbsp; “If the gods send rain, we get to eat. Otherwise we starve,” Naramaya Tamang in Terathum puts it simply. Her farm grows enough food to feed the family for only half the year.&nbsp; Those who have property have sold it to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/unthinkable-in-the-current-climate">move to the plains</a>. The government has stopped food aid, citing new roads and letting market forces ensure supply. However, there are many like Naramaya who have fallen through the social safety net. The other thing that has changed in these mountains is that people are migrating not just to the plains, but overseas to the Gulf or Malaysia. The villages on both sides of the Tamor River are devoid of young men, and increasingly, young women. Every family has a member abroad. It is the money they send back that helps the elderly relatives survive.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240406020436_9619e4536523960ebe2edf86de43c389ba054b3dd32c5752e5bcc7d9fac9d83f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_15" data-image-id="20240406020436_9619e4536523960ebe2edf86de43c389ba054b3dd32c5752e5bcc7d9fac9d83f" data-rendition-name="original" width="640" height="713" loading="lazy" alt="Climate → crisis → drought → food → deficit → migration"> </figure>  Over the last 20 years, Panchthar saw the second highest number of permits to work overseas in proportion to the district’s population. Terathum ranks third on this metric and Dhankuta is sixth. The adjoining district to the west, Khotang, is number one.&nbsp; Dhanusha in the Tarai has the highest numbers of people migrating out, but most of those workers return. Here in Dhankuta, Terathum, Panchthar and Taplejung, when young people leave, most leave for good.&nbsp; The main result of the climate breakdown is the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/borderlines/grain-drain">lack of water</a>. Deficient rain and springs going dry are the main reasons why farmers are migrating, explains the Chair of Ward 3 of Chaubise village, Madan Tumsa.&nbsp; He says: “These are climate migrants. The soil is too dry to farm, and there is nothing to eat. People are not leaving to earn more, up to 80% are leaving because they cannot grow food due to the lack of water.”&nbsp; Research for this three-part series was supported by the Barbara Foundation. This is the first of a three-part series in Nepali Times analysing meteorological, hydrological and demographic data from eastern Nepal, showing the impact of the climate crisis on rainfall, farming and outmigration. The second and third installments will appear on 12 and 26 April respectively.

Climate crisis → drought → food deficit → migration

Five-time Everest summiter and climate activist David Breashears died on 14 March at his home in Massachusetts in the United States, aged 68. Breashears shot the IMAX film Everest about the 1996 tragedy when eight climbers were killed, and also <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z01ve9gV4y8" target="_blank">co-produced the movie Everest</a> in 2015 starring Jake Gyllenhaal and Josh Brolin about the 1996 deaths. While shooting another documentary in 2015, he had to be rescued by helicopter from Camp I when an avalanche triggered by the earthquake killed 19 people at Base Camp. <div class="embed-block"><iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/z01ve9gV4y8?si=MvVVH0MERMdK_qia" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen></iframe></div> Breashears specialised in repeat photography of old images of the Alps and the Himalaya to visually document the impact of climate breakdown, and through his group GlacierWorks took part in the multimedia <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/living-through-the-himalayan-thaw" target="_blank">Climate+Change exhibition</a> in Kathmandu in 2014. The exhibition had Breashear’s before and after photography of Himalayan glaciers, comparing pictures taken in 1921 by George Mallory of the Rongbuk Glacier on the north side of Mt Everest to show how much it had shrunk by 2009.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240316030312_6d5b0461ee77deda302ea6f97ed3da6ab23f94cfdc326c863a2a59c894139a2d.png" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20240316030312_6d5b0461ee77deda302ea6f97ed3da6ab23f94cfdc326c863a2a59c894139a2d" data-rendition-name="original" width="998" height="976" loading="lazy" alt="david bearshears"> </figure>  Breashears was worried what the Himalaya would look like in 100 years, and <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/interview/What-will,423" target="_blank">told Nepali Times in an interview</a> ten years ago: ‘Those of us who have climbed Everest for the past 33 years have seen the changes taking place under our own feet. Now our crampons scrape and scratch across hundreds of feet of exposed rock and the snow arête that Hillary climbed no longer exists. The route is entirely on rock.’&nbsp; Himalayan glaciers are <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/here-today-gone-tomorrow" target="_blank">retreating and shrinking</a> much faster than what was forecast ten years ago, and just as Breashears predicted garbage and bodies of dead climbers are being <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nepali-times-buzz/climbing,424" target="_blank">exposed by thawing ice</a> high on the mountains. In the spring climbing season, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iMKRC7oZhpY&amp;t=51s" target="_blank">a river now runs through Everest Base Camp</a>. <div class="embed-block"><iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/iMKRC7oZhpY?si=qi36WvBaA8Texx1U" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen></iframe></div> <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nepali-times-buzz/climate-change-exhibition-icimod,1248" target="_blank">Reviewing the Climate+Change</a> exhibition at the Nepal Art Council in 2014, Nepali Times wrote: ‘It was the top floor, with <a href="http://nepalitimes.com/page/living-through-the-himalayan-thaw" target="_blank">GlacierWorks</a>’ sweeping Himalayan vistas … which really brought home the reality of climate change in Nepal – a veritable Damocles’ Sword if there was one.’ In a brief statement to <a href="https://www.outsideonline.com/outdoor-adventure/everest/david-breashears-dies/" target="_blank">Outside Magazine</a>, Breashear’s family said: ‘It is with tremendous sadness that we share the news of David Breashears’ untimely passing. David was a beloved brother, uncle, father, friend, and colleague and a caring, impassioned advocate of adventure, exploration, and the health of our planet.’ The statement added: ‘What fulfilled him the most – where he’d want his legacy to lie – is his non-profit organization, GlacierWorks, which he founded in 2007 to highlight the Himalayan glaciers through art, science, and adventure. He used his climbing and photography experience to create unique records revealing the dramatic effects of climate change on the mountain range.’ Breashears once said in a Reddit interview: "Nepal is my favourite place on earth."

Climber-activist David Breashears, 68

Frontpage topic

"I shut down my poultry farm as the villagers did not buy fresh chicken from me,” sums up a Dalit farmer from Arghakhanchi district why he had to leave for work.&nbsp;
Most people can sell fresh meat in their villages and make a good profit but Dalits still cannot because people will not buy from them due to caste stigma. Dalits have no choice but to sell their poultry to outside suppliers for lower profits.&nbsp;
“Other hoteliers found out my caste and used it to push me out of competition. They informed my customers of my caste and discouraged them from staying at my hotel,” a Dalit hotelier shares.&nbsp;
The hotel was close to a medical school and had earned a good reputation among hospital visitors, at least until they discovered his caste.
As ‘higher’ caste customers stopped coming, he moved his hotel to the East-West highway, where customers, in a rush, do not have time to worry about the caste of the owner.&nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/nepal-looks-at-alternative-investments">Nepal looks at alternative investments</a>, Siddhant Raj Pandey
“They will knock me out of the business if they know my caste,” says a Dalit who owns a pipe manufacturing business in Western Tarai. He has been in the business for several years. Due to fear of ostracisation from non-Dalits who dominate the industry, he has erased his caste name from all his documents and uses a non-Dalit surname.&nbsp;
These three incidents illustrate deeply rooted caste barriers blocking Dalits from entering and thriving in business even as they make up 14% of Nepal’s 29 million population.
Yet, due to Nepal’s hierarchical caste system, Dalits continue to be looked down upon as ‘untouchable’ and of ‘lower’ rank, and non-Dalits, as per caste norms, do not eat food and beverage items touched by them.&nbsp;
In a 2018 Tribhuvan University study, even seven years after anti-caste discrimination laws were passed, 34% of Hill Dalits and 28% of Madhesi Dalits reported routinely facing caste-based discrimination.&nbsp;
Caste-based barriers obstruct Dalits from freely participating and thriving in business, yielding at least three distinct types of market and non-market barriers.&nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/success-in-nepal-means-not-having-to-work">Success in Nepal means not having to work</a>, Anil Chitrakar
First, caste bias means ‘higher’ caste groups avoid buying goods and services from Dalits, except for menial labour. In their 2019 book Good Economics for Hard Times, Nobel laureates in economics Abhijit Banerjee and Esther Duflo show that social norms such as caste and patriarchy, and not just price, shape business decisions.&nbsp;
In Nepal’s case, ‘upper’ caste customers examine not only the price and quality of what they are buying but also the social value of goods and services.&nbsp;
Second, companies use caste norms to sideline Dalits out of competition. Development economists confirm that firms often deploy caste and ethnic discrimination to remove their competitors from the playing field.&nbsp;
Third, Nepal’s Dalits do not have easy access to resources such as land, capital, and networks that are usually a precondition to enter and thrive in business. Impoverished by decades of exclusion and discrimination, Dalits do not have collateral for loans. They face social stigma and stereotypes and do not get access to idea-and-trust-based loans.&nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/invest-in-investment">Invest in investment</a>, Nepali Times
As a result, they are forced to get by with low capital and higher interest rates. Dalits also do not have strong business networks, nor do they have access to the social spaces where business decisions are made. They do not have a strong community support system, which could compensate for low capital and weak policy networks.&nbsp;
These caste barriers not only block the entry of Dalits into business but also create market failures. Just like the Dalit hotelier in Bhairawa who was pushed out of the market, discriminatory practices allow only a few castes to dominate, forcing customers to buy in a market not governed by price and quality but by non-market measures. Eventually, such caste-based business practices create conditions for cartels and monopolies, blocking the free market.&nbsp;
Caste-biased business practices also yield inefficient resource allocation. Caste-based preferences in recruitment mean businesses are forced to draw from smaller talent pools, and Dalits miss out on opportunities for human development. Resources such as land and capital do not move across social groups, ultimately leading to unequal income distribution and lower economic growth.&nbsp;
Despite the challenges, Nepal is committed to ending discrimination in employment and business. In 1974, Nepal ratified the ILO Convention 111–Discrimination (Employment and Occupation) Convention, 1958. In 2002, the country enacted the Bonded Labour (Prohibition) Act, formally ending forced labour such as Kamaiya, Haliya and Haruwa-Charuwa. In 2020, Nepal Rastra Bank issued a guidance note to encourage loans to Dalits of up to one million rupees on concessional interest rates.&nbsp;
While the commitments on paper have been swift, they have not led to tangible results. In 2023, the ILO Experts’ Committee called for Nepal to implement Convention 111 to address discrimination against Dalits and to promote their access to productive resources such as land and capital.
Read Also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/caste-aside">Caste Aside</a>, Nepali Times
Ahead of its upcoming graduation to middle-income country status in 2026, Nepal has prioritised private sector-led development, hoping to increase investment from domestic and international investors. The Nepal Investment Summit this weekend is designed to attract investments.&nbsp;
While these are welcome moves, Nepal should not miss the opportunity to free itself from barriers holding back the Dalit community. By unlocking Dalits from discrimination, Nepal can add to its human capital, ensure fair income distribution, increase resource allocation efficiency, and augment economic growth.&nbsp;
We need research on how caste-based discrimination has reinforced market failures. The business development capacity of Dalits needs to be enhanced by creating better access to information and business networks. Nepal’s macro and micro-economic policies should combat visible and invisible caste-based business barriers.&nbsp;
Monetary policies can grant Dalits access to non-collateralised finance at concessional interest rates, and tax exemptions can create a level playing field. Finally, there could be a policy guarantee that the government, as one of the largest buyers, purchases goods and services from Dalits.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/dalit-lives-must-matter">Dalit lives must matter</a>, Shristi Karki

Putting Dalits back in business

In the run-up to the third Nepal Investment Summit this weekend, there have been seminars, conferences and workshops where the discourse has revolved around the economy and the investment climate.
The consensus that Nepal needs foreign direct investments (FDI) to grow was repeated, and the familiar litany of reasons about why it has not been able to was discussed.&nbsp;
Policy advocates and regulators have understood that the lack of urgency is compounded by procedural inconsistencies, on top of the already deficient investment environment in the country.
It is a welcome change from what used to be flippantly accepting matters as given. There now seems to be a sense of urgency, with procedural inconsistencies and lack of harmonisation between various Acts and regulations openly discussed.&nbsp;
Government stakeholders also appear more willing to learn and attempt to be part of the solution. Whatever policy changes have been introduced in the past have been piecemeal and address the few rather than the entire industry. This left dual regulatory approaches aimed at similar players.&nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/killing-investment-in-nepal-in-10-easy-steps">Killing investment in Nepal in 10 easy steps</a>, Dibesh Karmacharya
This time, unlike in the past two Summits, the government seems to be committed to amending 9 Acts, a positive step towards showing commitment to change. However, the deadline to do so during the winter session of Parliament is over. The option mooted has been to have it passed through ordinance, a lesser appealing step; albeit, a positive one moving forward.&nbsp;
To attract FDI in a competitive global market means that Nepal has to demonstrate that it is serious about bringing in investments with a more consultative and collaborative approach with investors. A departure from procedural to a result-oriented focus is needed.&nbsp;
To put issues in perspective, Nepal needs US$20 billion in investments to meet the UN’s Sustainable Development Goals (SDG) targets by 2030. If net-zero decarbonisation targets are to be met by 2045, another US$7 billion will be required annually.&nbsp;
Looking at our investment history and poor government capital expenditure, the gap is long and wide. In fiscal year 2022-23 Nepal booked a lamentable ~$59 million in FDI (equity). Nepal is in fact the lowest market in South Asia for FDI with 0.3% of the regional average.&nbsp;
What is it that we can do to fill the gap?&nbsp;
First, we need to move away from the notion that Nepal only needs large investments. This has proven to be a mistake, and time series data have proven that smaller investments, in aggregate, make a larger impact on economies.&nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/poor-cash-rich-nepal">Poor cash-rich Nepal</a>, Sonia Awale
We talk about an ‘enabling environment’ but without the right tools. We place restrictions on interest on debt ceiling (SOFR +5.5), without risk premium adjustments, we do not have an active secondary market for bond trading, nor do we have a yield curve, an integral part of the bond market, which is inhibiting us from tapping into the trillion dollar green bond market.&nbsp;
In order to attract green financing, Nepal needs to develop its bond market. Sovereign risk rating has been mooted and was expected to be operationalised before the Investment Summit.&nbsp;
However, to be rated in an adverse economic environment could further deteriorate investment potential due to a lesser-than-expected rating.&nbsp;
Hedging is another instrument that needs further research on. A commercial bank last year showcased the first risk-hedging mechanism for an investment of $8 million. This can be the beginning to expand on its modality. &nbsp;
Subordinated debt instruments have been introduced, but on a special nod basis, this now needs to be institutionalised as it is the most applicable form of investment after equity in a market that has volatile forex reserves.&nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/invest-in-investment">Invest in investment</a>, Nepali Times
Viability Gap Funding has been introduced by multilateral development agencies implemented in solar installations. It is a tool to incentivise the private sector to invest in projects that are not financially lucrative initially, but have potential for profitability in the long run. This needs to be scaled up and replicated in sectors like infrastructure, where returns may not be immediate.
Moving forward, to attract FDI, Nepal needs to tap into the funds that are available for the growth of small and medium enterprises (SMEs) and climate change. Alternative investments such as Private Equity Venture Capital (PEVC) have been around in a structured manner in Nepal for nearly a decade now.
These funds have blended finance components and have attracted climate funding as well. PEVC is a new asset class and can address the issues of penetrating into SME financing by incorporating environment, social and governance issues into their investment process.&nbsp;
SMEs are the backbone of any economy, PEVC comes with the ability not only to scale up the enterprise with risk capital, but with the ability to bring technical knowhow to enhance not only the enterprise but also the entrepreneur.&nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/success-in-nepal-means-not-having-to-work">Success in Nepal means not having to work</a>, Anil Chitrakar
A differentiator from all other forms of financing available till date in Nepal. Blended finance is a way of de-risking investments, especially in frontier markets. Business Oxygen (BO2) is an example of blended finance with subordinated debt investments of IFC (World Bank Group) taking the lead and Climate Investment Funds along with FCDO as co-investors.&nbsp;
On a larger scale, the 216MW Upper Trisuli 1 is another example of blended finance with IFC, a Korean consortium and local investments. So far, we see that development finance Institutions have been taking the lead in Nepal as their risk appetite is greater than commercial investors and they are eager to help develop the financial markets.&nbsp;
In order to be sustainable, we need to step on this and attract commercial capital from all over the world. To do this there has to be political will to make that pivot.&nbsp;
Instead of being a means to an end, the two previous Investment Summits turned out to be intermittent and cosmetic, providing hardly any results. The third one’s success will depend on how the event will be implemented as a platform for continuous marketing for the country and facilitation for investors in future.&nbsp;
Nepal has outdone many countries in its macro-economic indicators, with sound forex reserves and a stellar history of debt payments to its creditors. This story needs to be propagated along with the drive for change to attract potential investors.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/alternative-investments-to-attract-fdi">Alternative investments to attract FDI</a>, Siddhant Raj Pandey

Nepal looks at alternative investments

The fall of dropping water wears away the stone. -Lucretius  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240418180440_1a0c9016ae5d1fcbdd79dd613f102474cf6e7ca3bf5d578bcf71ee50cb23f75f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20240418180440_1a0c9016ae5d1fcbdd79dd613f102474cf6e7ca3bf5d578bcf71ee50cb23f75f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Miss Moti #1208"></figure>

Dropping water wears away the stone

The natural world does not respect manmade boundaries. We demarcate rivers as the frontiers between nation states, but they change their course in open defiance of cartographers and politicians. Air pollution also <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/one-atmosphere">travels across national boundaries</a> with impunity. Industrial and vehicular emissions from the Gangetic plains are carried by prevailing winds to Nepal and the Himalaya. In November, north India and the Nepal Tarai is shrouded in a thick blanket of smoke from crop-residue burning on both sides of Punjab and other Indian states. These past weeks, the sky over Nepal has been thick with haze from <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/nepal-is-going-up-in-smoke">wildfires fanned by winds</a>, burning out of control on mountain slopes and along the East-West Highway. But travelling along that highway this week, we saw another source of smoke, acres upon acres of wheat stalks set on fire after harvest in the fields. Those fires we photographed in Simraungad on Monday correspond to red dots at that exact spot in the NASA infrared satellite image taken from space that very morning. There is another very large patch of red in Uttar Pradesh across the border in India.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240417090412_82b61db932d186206e9eacd57bdb277a22a9182e41e0b5b54bbffc6e0790751c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20240417090412_82b61db932d186206e9eacd57bdb277a22a9182e41e0b5b54bbffc6e0790751c" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="902" loading="lazy" alt="Wildfires in Nepal"> <figcaption>FLAME THROWERS: Groundview of stubble burning in Simraungad near Birganj on Tuesday. Photo: CHANDRA KISHORE</figcaption> </figure>  Nepal is vulnerable to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/unthinkable-in-the-current-climate">climate breakdown</a>, and a part of the reason for the wildfires is the long winter drought and deficient rainfall this month that failed to moisten the soil enough. No major rainfall is forecast for the coming week, and the temperature in the Tarai is reaching the upper 30s Celsius. With an average per capita carbon footprint of 0.03 tons per year, whatever energy Nepalis use will not reduce the global impact of the climate crisis. However, there are some things governments on both sides of the border can act on — <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/epicentre-of-pollution">air pollution</a>. It poisons the air we breathe and affects everyone: rich and poor, with the elderly and young most at risk. In the past three weeks, the AQI that measures the concentration of hazardous suspended particles in the air in the Nepal Tarai has remained above 200 µg/m3. The WHO’s threshold for air safe to breathe is 10 micrograms per cubic metre. All across the fertile Tarai plains of Nepal, farmers have just finished harvesting the winter wheat crop. Many farms are now mechanised with threshers, but while reducing the drudgery for farmers these machines have created another problem. The stalks of the wheat that emerge from the threshers remain in the fields. Because most young men have migrated, farmers find it easier to just burn the stubble. This is a widespread practice in northern India, and now <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/how-transboundary-haze-affects-nepal">stubble burning</a> has become common on the Nepal side as well.&nbsp; Instead of feeding the straw to livestock or burning it to cook, farmers set fire to their fields because the population of livestock has also decreased with the rise in migration.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240417090416_c81606760ddf50dcc7c3d176bbee986319d0910acda1c93de310e70e740550d1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20240417090416_c81606760ddf50dcc7c3d176bbee986319d0910acda1c93de310e70e740550d1" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1047" loading="lazy" alt="Wildfires in Nepal"> <figcaption>A NASA FIRMS infrared satellite image of Nepal and adjoining parts of India on 16 April. Each red dot is a wildfire, or farms burning stubble after wheat harvest.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240417090416_719866206a264a7a6e9600e470d13d2912b35b6d02c7656e61535fbed7283ba8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20240417090416_719866206a264a7a6e9600e470d13d2912b35b6d02c7656e61535fbed7283ba8" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1163" loading="lazy" alt="Wildfires in Nepal"> <figcaption>The whole of Nepal was covered in thick smoke on 16 April up to an elevation of 2,500m.</figcaption> </figure>  Another reason Nepal’s farmers started burning the stubble is because of stricter border controls which has made it difficult for Indian traders to come over to buy straw from Nepali farmers, who now have no other option but to burn what is left in the fields hoping the ash fertilises the soil for the paddy season. “We are no longer burning straw and dung for domestic fuel, we have fewer livestock, so we do not really need the straw and that is why the farmers are burning them in the fields,” explains Rameswar Mehta of Simraungad Municpality.&nbsp; Contrary to some who think the ash is a fertiliser, farmers say the fires actually blacken and destroy the soil by killing nutrients and beneficial microorganisms, reducing harvests. A Facebook post this week shows a wheatfield ready of harvest on fire after sparks from nearby stubble burning ignited the field. It is obvious that unless farmers see alternative uses for their crop residue, like in industrial-scale composting or <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/more-bullshit">biogas generation</a>, they will keep burning stubble.&nbsp; Manual harvesting used to leave only a few inches of stubble off the ground which the cattle fed on, now with the threshers there is just stubble lying around, which is too much trouble to pick.&nbsp; Madhes Province government has no record of the area of wheat fields that are being put to the torch. It must come up with a strategy to make farmers aware of the impact from crop residue burning on public health through pollution and the fall in productivity due to decline in fertility of the soil. There needs to be more intense public debate about the harmful effects of stubble burning and its trans-boundary impact. Chandra Kishore is a Birganj-based commentator who writes this monthly column Borderlines for Nepali Times.

Going up in smoke

Your direction is more important than your speed. -Richard L. Evans  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024041213040_eb9aac90577bc486d76b913a1e411257073f47ae1e47fee0da21a942f338cf28.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2024041213040_eb9aac90577bc486d76b913a1e411257073f47ae1e47fee0da21a942f338cf28" data-rendition-name="original" width="2700" height="2700" loading="lazy" alt="miss moti"> </figure>

Your direction is more important

Nepali Times #1209 26 April - 2 May 2024

When one thinks about South Indian food in Kathmandu, the image that comes to mind is the usual vegetarian fare: dosa, idli, vada served with sambhar and coconut chutney. But what if we told you that even non-vegetarians can get their fill of South Indian chicken, mutton or fish dishes? Named after the Arabian Sea coast region of Kerala, Malabar Groove on the ground floor of Chhaya Centre in the heart of Thamel is serving this South Indian cuisine known for its rich and unique flavours.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240403080424_1f45a52bc7256c33d03fbd3109734384b572650b8949cdf530d32fde058bbdf8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20240403080424_1f45a52bc7256c33d03fbd3109734384b572650b8949cdf530d32fde058bbdf8" data-rendition-name="original" width="1467" height="882" loading="lazy" alt="malabar groove"> </figure>  The space is cosy and the decor is minimal with vibrant wall art featuring Pacha, a character from the popular dance drama Kathakali. The staff guides you through the menu, explaining the specialities. At Malabar Groove the menu is all about flavour and textures featuring a selection of South Indian specialities that are both familiar and exciting, like the range of dosa, light and crispy fermented rice and lentil crepe and vada, savoury fried snack made of lentils or sooji as well as a variety of curry including Malabari Prawn Curry, Kottayam Coconut Chicken, Mutton Coconut fry and Kerala Fish Moille.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240403080424_22769f3875bd0cc6e5751f7d267c1dccee308a4ff8a3b32d74210e094d5489d9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20240403080424_22769f3875bd0cc6e5751f7d267c1dccee308a4ff8a3b32d74210e094d5489d9" data-rendition-name="original" width="3234" height="2074" loading="lazy" alt="malabar groove"> <figcaption>Chef J Ekambaram</figcaption> </figure>  Stewarded by chef J Ekamabaram, who has been working in kitchens all over India since 1997, dining at Malabar Groove is a taste extravaganza and culinary experience.&nbsp; Dive into the chicken dosa, crispy and filled with spiced minced meat, it is ideal for dipping into the coconut chutney and tangy tomato pickle that accompanies it. The sambhar here is a good balance of savory and sweet making it a good accompaniment to the main meal. For a lighter appetiser opt for fried idli that comes with the chef’s special podi masala, a combination of lentils, spices and chilli.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240403080424_3e7aac4ded3ea7268ab8859f14d49e77116170e9b95cd0135bdd9d0bab93c65b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20240403080424_3e7aac4ded3ea7268ab8859f14d49e77116170e9b95cd0135bdd9d0bab93c65b" data-rendition-name="original" width="5388" height="3616" loading="lazy" alt="malabar groove"> <figcaption>Chicken Thali set</figcaption> </figure>  Malabar cuisine is influenced by many cultures, the incorporation of which is clearly visible in the range of preparations. Popular amongst guests at Malabar Grove seems to be the Thali set, options include vegetable, chicken, mutton, fish and prawn and diners can choose between rice, chapati and Malabar paratha. The chicken thali comes with chicken cashew curry, rasam, sambhar, beetroots, coconut chutney, achar, papad, salad, dahi and rava halwa.&nbsp; The standout in the thali set apart from the creamy chicken is the beetroot, diced and tossed in spices, it eliminates the earthy taste of the vegetable so much so that a guest who ordered a vegetable set confused it for chicken. Wash it all down with a glass of chaas, spiced buttermilk made of yogurt, spices and herbs, to cleanse the palate before the next course  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240403080424_a3bf24ff96e112dc700e46494656be9071f7c3e03141728fecea984f52ceca6c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20240403080424_a3bf24ff96e112dc700e46494656be9071f7c3e03141728fecea984f52ceca6c" data-rendition-name="original" width="5232" height="3460" loading="lazy" alt="malabar groove"> <figcaption>Glimpse of a tiffin box combo and filter coffee.</figcaption> </figure>  .For those looking to sample multiple favourites, a tiffin box combo would be the best option with four different combos to choose from.&nbsp; No South Indian meal is complete without a cup of strong and creamy filter coffee. What makes the coffee at Malabar Groove unique is that the restaurant imports the beans from South India itself, making it a must-try for coffee enthusiasts looking for something different from the usual cuppa.&nbsp; With accessible locations in Thamel and now also at Bagaicha in Naxal, Malabar Groove is a must-visit for anyone looking to be transported from the Himalaya to the Nilgiri.&nbsp;

Kerala to Kathmandu

Patan Museum is a repository of Kathmandu Valley heritage, but in its gallery wing is a temporary multimedia exhibition devoted to the indigenous Tharu people of Nepal’s southern plains.&nbsp; As the largest ethnic group in the Tarai, and because of their connection to US-funded malaria eradication in the 1960s, trans-migration of mountain dwellers to their forests in the Rapti Valley, as well as the Maoist conflict, the impact on the Tharu has been extensively analysed. But most of this research has come from non-Tharu academics. Now, the exhibition Daule Daule aims to highlight the history, culture and inter-generational knowledge and skills of the Tharu people by the Tharu themselves. “Exhibitions about the Tharu community were mostly from other people and sometimes they gave <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/5-myths-about-the-tharu">wrong information</a>,” says Birendra Mahato, one of the curators. “We thought it was important to tell our stories on our own.”&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024032709034_e78efaffd168f3d150ed3afdc0c41d7429f09f9d4a26687e9a9559bb36058dbe.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024032709034_e78efaffd168f3d150ed3afdc0c41d7429f09f9d4a26687e9a9559bb36058dbe" data-rendition-name="original" width="5435" height="3623" loading="lazy" alt="Daule daule"> </figure>  The exhibition starts with a section dedicated to the Tharu women because it is the women who carry forward the culture. Says another curator Lavkant Chaudhary: “When you enter a Tharu village women are the first people you see and even inside the house from cooking to medicine, they are the ones who have the responsibility.” Indeed, the very first photograph by Vivek Chaudhary is of Tharu women walking on a foggy morning in Dang with firewood balanced on their heads. Other images play with the same theme: women carrying a water pitcher, grass, baskets.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024032709034_f398e9467dfd175f507f34cd5e6bfbfff923f74a467e021ebb8529ca3b9ae5c8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2024032709034_f398e9467dfd175f507f34cd5e6bfbfff923f74a467e021ebb8529ca3b9ae5c8" data-rendition-name="original" width="6000" height="4000" loading="lazy" alt="Daule Daule"> </figure>  Tharu women are perceived to be freer and more empowered because they do not face gender restrictions prevalent among Nepal’s other ethnic groups. Researchers have even called Tharu society matriarchal.&nbsp; Indu Tharu in her note accompanying the photographs begs to disagree. She writes that Tharu women are not so much free as ‘persistent’. They &nbsp;women still need a husband's permission to decide matters, and the Tharu are not matriarchal unless matriarchy means ‘leaving parent’s house and staying at the husband's house after marriage … or giving birth to as many babies as the family wishes … or until a son is born’.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024032709030_05c859c3ed5461b358647a8cc0630a96e9d0da7c6ad15f2517cdda1be4c0feb1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2024032709030_05c859c3ed5461b358647a8cc0630a96e9d0da7c6ad15f2517cdda1be4c0feb1" data-rendition-name="original" width="5113" height="3409" loading="lazy" alt="daule daule"> </figure>  Tharu women are often photographed in full traditional regalia of ornaments. But the exhibition has pictures of Tharu women working at home, in fields and participating in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-karjahi-movement">political movements</a> from the abolishment of the Kamaiya and Kamlari system to the Tharuhat movement, showing their resistance.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024032709030_b55a2b2c289871e199e1eed2f95293fc01ab7d3c71c049d496e8a20a46613cc9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2024032709030_b55a2b2c289871e199e1eed2f95293fc01ab7d3c71c049d496e8a20a46613cc9" data-rendition-name="original" width="5911" height="3941" loading="lazy" alt="daule daule"> </figure>  In the corner of the exhibition hangs a painting of a Tharu woman, Parbati Chaudhary with her baby on her back. During the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/tikapur-s-protracted-trauma">Tikapur riots</a>, Parbati’s husband, who has a disability, was also apprehended by the police. Parbati then joined the movement carrying her baby with her. The photos from the movements and the painting serve as a reminder of the historical injustices in the hands of the state.&nbsp; Tharu women are now venturing into fields that were once male-dominated. There are photos of female mahouts bathing elephants, showing the continuity of the human-animal relationship that the Tharus traditionally practiced.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024032709030_4fd80ef1e2f427c02bb83a614234c3be7ddb0b23bf775bb117f2453f885733bf.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="2024032709030_4fd80ef1e2f427c02bb83a614234c3be7ddb0b23bf775bb117f2453f885733bf" data-rendition-name="original" width="4917" height="3278" loading="lazy" alt="Daule Daule"> </figure>  Also included in the exhibition are photos of body art that adorns the back, hands and legs of the Tharu women. In the community, tattooing is a skill passed to daughter by their mothers and is not only an art form but is also used as therapy, the belief that it eases pain.&nbsp; “Tattoos are not only an important way of sharing inter-generational knowledge but there is also a belief that when one dies, the tattoo travels into the afterlife,” explains Lavkant Chaudhary.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024032709030_95fb44a92c69e6d87cf7014afaa25a05755390dd9608b39cb3c52bb2a770d862.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="2024032709030_95fb44a92c69e6d87cf7014afaa25a05755390dd9608b39cb3c52bb2a770d862" data-rendition-name="original" width="6000" height="4000" loading="lazy" alt="Daule daule"> </figure>  One wall of the gallery is festooned with fishing nets and tools, providing a glimpse of the Tharu lifestyle in forests, grasslands and rivers. With changing times, traditional Tharu fishing areas are protected, threatening a way of life and the skills and knowledge amassed through generations. Most of Tharu activities are collective, and are sustainable. They do not fish alone, the women go to the forests in groups to collect clay which they beat into pottery. This skill is dying which is why photographic documentation is so important.&nbsp; The curatorial team is later planning on taking the exhibition to other parts of Nepal as well. Younger generations of Tharus who grew up in the capital and non-Tharus not able to visit the Tharu museum in Chitwan will learn a lot from this show. Daule Daule&nbsp; Curated by Birendra Mahato, Indu Tharu, Sanjib Chaudhary, Lavkant Chaudhary, Arnab Chaudhary, Maria Bossert and Tom Robertson&nbsp; Patan Museum, Until 31 March

The Tharu story by the Tharu

A dedicated exploration of natural dyes in artwork. Reusing discarded items to produce art. The Kala Salon in Chhaya Centre in Thamel is the newest haven for art lovers with green hearts.&nbsp; On a lower level is Foraging Chroma by Nepali fashion designer Meena Gurung. The exhibit reminds one of a home décor store with the walls adorned in intricately artful fabric, only much more vibrant. Meena Gurung has woven each fabric from natural materials such as plants, leaves, and barks of trees.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240313130332_551179ef18cd10564eaf3494c266a476a050d528c0246db9d98ae58171e98a9a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20240313130332_551179ef18cd10564eaf3494c266a476a050d528c0246db9d98ae58171e98a9a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1920" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Alternative lifestyle, alternative art"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240313130332_3230c3fdd554c738005845b7c50477d6a538e4016388860cd82e37ff28019611.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20240313130332_3230c3fdd554c738005845b7c50477d6a538e4016388860cd82e37ff28019611" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="1920" loading="lazy" alt="Alternative lifestyle, alternative art"> </figure>  Founder of Bora Studio, Gurung studied fashion design in Ireland and was set to follow in her chosen path. But when the Rana Plaza garment factory in Dhaka that was supplying apparel to Louis Vuitton and Zara collapsed in 2013, killing 1,134 mainly women workers, everything changed. Wracked with guilt, Gurung realised she was part of an industry that promoted wasteful and exploitative fast fashion, contributing to a superficial lifestyle and to environmental degradation and climate breakdown.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240313130332_8d25202f8e710866a100698106daf5055bfe878eb87071bf3baad0a4dc35bdd9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20240313130332_8d25202f8e710866a100698106daf5055bfe878eb87071bf3baad0a4dc35bdd9" data-rendition-name="original" width="1920" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Alternative lifestyle, alternative art"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240313130336_bd7bf478a859d6f341f63173dae68fb6f888ca389ba8ae40258e4444a0eafab4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20240313130336_bd7bf478a859d6f341f63173dae68fb6f888ca389ba8ae40258e4444a0eafab4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="1920" loading="lazy" alt="Alternative lifestyle, alternative art"> </figure>  Upon returning to Nepal, Gurung started experimenting with natural dyes. Through trial and error, she mastered the techniques to produce vibrant organic colours and textures. She uses naturally dyed cotton sheets made via an iron bath process as her canvas. Eucalyptus and guava leaves and invasive species are then used as printing tools. Over the past seven years, Gurung has moved through Dolakha, Nuwakot, Tanahu, and Chitwan collecting materials and inspiration.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240313130336_5076ef43a3401f0246f95198a04d80be869c1e3686e65cb682e3383381c40b17.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20240313130336_5076ef43a3401f0246f95198a04d80be869c1e3686e65cb682e3383381c40b17" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Alternative lifestyle, alternative art"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240313130332_3a1b407b27102ca63c0c9d9a5cb95cbb252191c120bf5e78bd58f2d9c908a2a6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20240313130332_3a1b407b27102ca63c0c9d9a5cb95cbb252191c120bf5e78bd58f2d9c908a2a6" data-rendition-name="original" width="1920" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Alternative lifestyle, alternative art"> </figure>  Fallen leaves of invasive species are a prominent theme in her work: collected from paths inside Nepal’s community forests. The dyes are also on display at the exhibition, and Gurung is on hand to explain her techniques.&nbsp; “In today's world, we need to think critically about what we're leaving behind for future generations. How are we shaping the world, and how can we live more consciously,” says Gurung. “There are always alternative solutions available. By being more mindful of our behaviour and attitudes towards living, we can make a positive difference.” Gurung credits Sophia L Pandé, a fan of her work on Instagram, for encouraging her with the exhibition. Pandé who is also the founding director of The Kala Salon recognised the artistry in Gurung's creations.&nbsp; Says Pandé: “Meena’s work transcends fashion, it's art. People need to see this.” Gurung herself hopes that seeing the work firsthand will spark lifestyle changes that are required for human beings to have smaller ecological footprints. On top of the airy expanse of the Salon, Italian artist Cinzia (pictured below) awaits with her exhibit Zero to Sunya, a mixed-media exhibit using photography, paperwork and copper. &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240313130336_debb223c76b896d38be0bc20db59e5f8191a40a342ca0a0299714a3af0764444.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20240313130336_debb223c76b896d38be0bc20db59e5f8191a40a342ca0a0299714a3af0764444" data-rendition-name="original" width="1920" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Alternative lifestyle, alternative art"> </figure>  Cinzia, a globetrotter originally from a now-deserted village in Italy, finds herself constantly drawn back to Nepal. Her travels fuel her artistic spirit, she collects unique items and transforms them into captivating creations. The copper jewelry she crafted in Italy has journeyed with her across the world and now finds a home in this exhibition. Cinzia defies categorisation as a mere jewelry designer or artist, embracing all art forms. A standout piece is a surprising combination of hard paper, a face mask, and cable wires found on a busy road in Kathmandu. These transformed elements create a captivating figure with "hair" fashioned from the wires, resembling a tree with leaves (top photo).  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240313130336_eaca6a2dcc5ab617b21b2dd861ecc8b4e273864550850cd3bb9ebd02693ec293.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20240313130336_eaca6a2dcc5ab617b21b2dd861ecc8b4e273864550850cd3bb9ebd02693ec293" data-rendition-name="original" width="1920" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Alternative lifestyle, alternative art"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240313130340_c896522d4b48ce53dac516b20770d069d627c00b0d49f49c6e072b5563c717d1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20240313130340_c896522d4b48ce53dac516b20770d069d627c00b0d49f49c6e072b5563c717d1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Alternative lifestyle, alternative art"> </figure>  &nbsp;“Wherever I travel, I carry a piece of myself. And I seek out kindred spirits, people who share my passion for creation,” Cinzia explains. “This exhibition isn't just a showcase of my efforts, but a testament to the collaboration with my friends who have refined my work and introduced me to new techniques.” Another installation here titled Purusha-Prakriti is crafted from salvaged cardboard and metal mesh from a construction site, showcasing beauty in unexpected places.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240313130336_0fc2dd72680fc89e6a9c453f0cb5ecaa36a3afb549eef8e015e9a78978c0d0d8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20240313130336_0fc2dd72680fc89e6a9c453f0cb5ecaa36a3afb549eef8e015e9a78978c0d0d8" data-rendition-name="original" width="1920" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Alternative lifestyle, alternative art"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240313130336_d6b364dce649d425f0caf9d56f093981352ac554096f33fcc00353a7e9a2e460.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20240313130336_d6b364dce649d425f0caf9d56f093981352ac554096f33fcc00353a7e9a2e460" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Alternative lifestyle, alternative art"> </figure>  Both exhibitions at the Chhaya Centre leave a lasting impression and invite open interpretation, prompting viewers to question wasteful and energy-intensive modern lifestyles, demonstrating the potential for artistic expression to inspire positive change. Says Sophia Pandé: “Cinzia's exquisite jewelry and Meena's hand-dyed shawls transcend mere function. These wearable artworks hold a value equal to that of a traditional canvas, serving as powerful reminders of the transformative power of artistic expression.” Foraging Chroma by Meena Gurung Zero to Sunya by Cinzia Everyday 11am to 6pm Until 24 March The Kala Salon, Chhaya Centre

Alternative lifestyle, alternative art

A 4-day family trek last month was vivid proof of the truth in the old adage: it is the journey and the people that truly matter, not just the destination. It was word-of-mouth recommendation that brought us to the sustainable tourism company Three Sisters, owned and run by women. The guides assured us our children would be well taken care of and our group of novice trekkers would not be rushed. As we negotiated the uphill steps, passing gushing waterfalls and forests ablaze with rhododendron, we had plenty of time to get to know our two experienced guides and the eight support staff. Their life stories highlighted the transformative power of sustainable, ethical, and empowering tourism in shaping lives and journeys. THE GUIDES Yasudhara is literally a trailblazer. A mother of a 7-year-old, she has had to seamlessly blend her caring role at home with her professional responsibilities as a guide in a male dominated and uncertain industry. Besides leading the pack, Yasudhara kept our children motivated and entertained, leaving an indelible mark on them. By the journey’s end, the little ones of our foreign friends soaked Nepali phrases. “hfd hfd” became their spirited rallying cry as we moved up and down the trails. Even as Yasudhara sometimes told them to slow down with “la:tf/} la:tf/}” it was the rhythmic chant of “hfd hfd” that followed.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240427020412_b57170cc61b35c07e370e48b7e93d916e4cd9bfa72d7230b93a39eedd8e5a48e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20240427020412_b57170cc61b35c07e370e48b7e93d916e4cd9bfa72d7230b93a39eedd8e5a48e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1125" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Sustainable tourism in Annapurna"> </figure>  When she first became a guide, Yasudhara recalled she had to defy her family’s wishes. They were skeptical of her choice of career to lead foreigners through Nepal’s remote, rural landscapes. The workplace was equally challenging. At that time, no one was accustomed to female guides, and accommodations were scarce. Yasudhara slept in dining rooms and outdoors, keeping her distance from male guides who often drank and indulged in unwelcome behaviour. But times have changed. Female-led teams from Three Sisters now guide trekkers all over Nepal. But now, Yasudhara grapples with the guilt of leaving her child behind, even though she is shaping a future where her son will understand the power of gender equality and women’s economic empowerment. “I want to earn my keep, without having to rely on my brothers and husband,” Yasudhara tells us during a rest stop. Tila is in her mid-30s, and thrived as a guide before the pandemic, navigating and overcoming many gender stereotypes and challenges in her profession. Starting as an assistant at the agency, she steadily climbed the ranks to become a permanent guide, earning a modest base salary and commissions. She enjoys preferential access to trips involving foreign visitors. During peak seasons, work flows steadily, allowing her to hibernate during quieter times. She also seized learning opportunities provided by her employer. She participated in courses on the ecosystems of trekking regions, cultural sensitivity, first aid and emergency response, navigation and route knowledge, and sharpening her English proficiency.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240427020412_5fbd0826aaa69f65f3872bf89fce702ad6391fec4fb2e51bb101101ce3a9225d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20240427020412_5fbd0826aaa69f65f3872bf89fce702ad6391fec4fb2e51bb101101ce3a9225d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1125" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Sustainable tourism in Annapurna"> </figure>  Then, the pandemic struck. Trekkers vanished. Tila’s gratitude for finally returning to work is tempered by the reality that Nepal’s trekking industry has not fully recovered. This was her fourth consecutive trek, leaving her cautiously optimistic. Yet the trail ahead remains uncertain. &nbsp;THE ASSISTANTS The eight assistants who accompanied us, three women and five men, were more than ‘porters’. This was a group of eight remarkable individuals, distinct from traditional porters found on trekking trails and their significance extended far beyond carrying our gear. Kusum, 19, harbours dreams of being the first in her family to pursue a Bachelor’s degree in Commerce from a college in Pokhara. Her motivation for joining the trek was twofold: to earn enough to pay for her accommodation expenses, and eventually to earn the experience to be a guide herself one day. With every step she took, she carried not only her backpack but also her aspiration for a brighter future. Sita, 36, is a single mother with three children. She is from a landless Dalit family, and lives in a rented house by the highway. Entrusting her 17-year-old to care for younger siblings, she works for Three Sisters during peak trekking season and returns to her village to take up the odd agricultural work with meagre wages. Despite challenges, she finds solace in the decent work provided by the trekking company. For women like her from disadvantaged backgrounds, these opportunities are lifelines. “There is so little work in my village, and the money I earn on these treks helps educate and feed my children,” she says. Yogesh, like many young Nepali men, wants to migrate abroad. He is at the crossroads of his past and an unwritten future. “Our villages are empty, there are few young people left,” he says. “All my friends have gone overseas for work. I am thinking of doing the same.” For Yogesh, this trek symbolised a bridge between two worlds, a chance to bear the costs of recruitment fees for a job overseas instead of his family having to pay.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240427020412_4c1b49b4b9dd64a53a9cc7b0403373cbcf15f7f6b3ba87d8597cb0d8d512a107.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20240427020412_4c1b49b4b9dd64a53a9cc7b0403373cbcf15f7f6b3ba87d8597cb0d8d512a107" data-rendition-name="original" width="2911" height="1089" loading="lazy" alt="Sustainable tourism in Annapurna"> </figure>  Khem is an older migrant returnee. His weathered hands bear the calluses of hard labour, each crease etched with memories from 15 years at a construction site in Dubai and two years in Qatar. He recounts how limited opportunities in Nepal drove him out, and his experience in the Gulf: “It was backbreaking work, so far away from my loved ones.” Dhak Bahadur is in his late-40s and carries the weight of responsibility for his Dalit family back home. His two sons and daughter, on the cusp of adulthood, look up to him. “I want my children to have a better life, they should not endure the hardship I have known,” he says. His broad shoulders carry not only our rucksack, but dreams of education, stability and dignity for the next generation. Three Sisters upholds a strict rule: Assistants carry no more than 10-12kg each. As customers, we also left a small space in our own rucksacks for their belongings. However, this essential work practice remains far from universal. Despite laws against heavy loads, most ‘porters’ are made to carry 30kg or more of trekking gear. After decades of carrying heavy loads up and down mountains, many have chronic spinal problems and headaches. At rest stops, the men conversed among themselves, and I glimpsed the value they embraced: women led the way. The Three Sisters are leaving a legacy. Dhak Bahadur confides, “I want my daughter to be fluent in English and become part of a women-led tourism company too.” A Nepal trek gives visitors a glimpse of the impact of migration and remittance on rural areas. Nearly half of the households have at least one family member working abroad, or someone who has returned from overseas or India. They are predominantly men aged 20-44, and form the backbone of the country’s most productive workforce.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240427020412_3e8f08df5ed34e991aebd9e314c3903b90fbc80c2d146694493608e31d42c0a7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20240427020412_3e8f08df5ed34e991aebd9e314c3903b90fbc80c2d146694493608e31d42c0a7" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Sustainable tourism in Annapurna"> <figcaption>Bimbika Sijapati Basnett (far left) with Three Sisters trekking guide. Sijapati is a researcher and practitioner working on gender and social development.</figcaption> </figure>  Along the trail, we can see evidence of newfound prosperity from remittances, allowing many families to break free from poverty and deprivation. Yet migration is far from being a seamless journey. It begins with the challenge of pooling resources to cover direct and indirect costs. Upon return, a lingering question returns, 'what next?' as migrant returnees grapple with reintegration. Migrants, dreamers, carriers of hope shuffle along with silent footsteps along stone steps amidst a stunning backdrop of Annapurna and Machapuchre suffused in the golden light of sunrise. Each step is a promise that every ascent, every descent, is a collective endeavour towards a world where equality, opportunity and compassion bloom brightly like the rhododendron.

What sustainable tourism means in practice

In the first two episodes of this series, we looked at how <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/people-and-mountains-are-thirsty-in-eastern-nepal">climate breakdown has worsened the water shortage in eastern Nepal</a>, with rains failing and springs going dry.&nbsp; But there is a flipside. In the monsoon, there is also the curse of too much rain leading to destructive landslides, floods driving people out.&nbsp; <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/climate-crisis-drought-food-deficit-migration">Analysing meteorological and hydrological data from the past half-a-century in eastern Nepal’s Tamor River basin</a>, the big floods of 1963 and 1968 stand out with other less destructive monsoons in between.&nbsp; Nepal’s monsoons usually last 112 days from mid-June to mid-September, and its clockwork arrival and departure has inspired Nepali poetry and song. But climate breakdown has disrupted the timetable, and there have been years with highly unusual monsoons and floods. In 1968, the monsoon delivered more rain than usual in some places and less than normal in others, and the big floods actually came after the monsoon is supposed to have retreated.&nbsp; The national news agency RSS reported a damaging flood in Sunsari, the district in the plains where the Kosi River disgorges into the plains after confluence of the Arun, Sun Kosi and Tamor. Three days later, RSS reported that 500 cattle and 1,500 goats had drowned in Sunsari, and a child’s body had been found. And upstream in Leuti Khola, three people and seven houses were swept away. A week later, RSS reported again that seven people and 14 livestock had been killed by floods, and bridges as well as paddy ready for harvest were swept away. Even upstream in Olangchung Gola, three people were killed.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240427010452_9fe3ea424cd644cb1f5a06a731f44d466d70216f39d943e0bd4a5f6f13fdf90d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20240427010452_9fe3ea424cd644cb1f5a06a731f44d466d70216f39d943e0bd4a5f6f13fdf90d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1688" height="1088" loading="lazy" alt="Water crisis in Eastern Nepal"> </figure>  Laxmi Prasad Siwakoti was a boy in 1968, and remembers enormous boulders thundering down rivers. One boulder the size of a house luckily was pushed to the banks before it could destroy a key bridge below Taplejung. All this water created even more death and destruction in the inland delta of Sunsari, also washing down the bodies of people and livestock from upstream. The 1968 post-monsoon flow of the Kosi reached 23,106 cumecs – four times the volume in the 1963 flood. Some researchers attributed the 1963 flood to the bursting of Tiptala Glacial Lake in the Kangchenjunga area, and that the 1968 flood was also caused by another moraine collapse on the same lake.&nbsp; But analysis of precipitation data of the Department of Hydrology and Meteorology shows that the reason for the catastrophic floods of 1968 was unusually heavy post-monsoon rainfall in the Tamor basin. Archival records of rainfall at Mulghat below Dhankuta shows that there was 162mm of rain on 3 October and another 158mm on 4 October. This meant that one-third of the total rainfall during four monsoon months fell in just two days. Never had Mulghat recorded so much rain in such a short time, and in the 55 years since there has been that much rain only twice. On 4-5 October 1968, Dhankuta received 300mm of rain. It had never received so much rain in the autumn before or since. Similarly, Taplejung recorded 231mm of rain in the same two days – it has never received so much rain in the post-monsoon since. Hydro-meteorological stations across eastern Nepal in Panchthar, Taplejung, Dhankuta and Sankhusabha all show data of record-breaking post-monsoon precipitation on 3-4 October 1968. In fact data shows that except for northwestern Nepal, there was heavy unseasonal rain all over. Dhulikhel near Kathmandu recorded 221mm rain that day, and even Jomsom in the trans-Himalayan rainshadow got 58% of its annual rainfall in just one week. In a paper titled Heavy Monsoon Rainfall in Nepal, J L Nayava dug up an archival weather map from 1968 that showed a cyclone develop in the Bay of Bengal a week after the official retreat of the monsoon from Nepal in conjunction with a low pressure area over southern India. Both systems moved northwards, and it could have been the combination of the two that dumped the record rainfall in Nepal.&nbsp; Nayava notes: ‘On 29 September, a small low appeared over the Bay of Bengal at about 10°N, 90°E. During the next two days, the circulation of this low expanded as it moved north-eastwards into central India and intensified into a depression. By 3 October, Nepal and much of India had come within the circulation of this depression… During the next two days, a sharp 500mb trough passed through Nepal and central India and as the polar westerlies at 200mb intensified and moved equatorwards, bringing the subtropical westerly jetstreams ever closer to Nepal. As the depression moved north, the anticyclonic circulation at 200mb over the depression intensified and became orientated in a south-west-north-east direction. Associated with these developments, widespread rain fell in most parts of Nepal…’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240427010452_6fc01e56307dfd3c43e58d7170346d11a1fd8ee2a748074b22aa84bcfdab8369.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20240427010452_6fc01e56307dfd3c43e58d7170346d11a1fd8ee2a748074b22aa84bcfdab8369" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Water crisis in Eastern Nepal"> </figure>  It was not just eastern Nepal that suffered destruction, many people were killed in Bhojpur, Khotang and Solu to the west. If this was indeed a glacial lake outburst flood, the destruction would not have been so widespread. The hydrological data of the Tamor of 3-5 October 1968 are also not commensurate with a flash flood triggered by a glacial lake burst. The Mulghat hydrological stations showed that on 4 October, there was 3,060 cumec of flow (volume of water never recorded before) which decreased only slightly over the next few days and returned to a more normal 636 cumecs only on 9 October.&nbsp; By the time the rains stopped that October, 60 people were dead in Kosi zone alone, thousands of livestock were killed and houses swept away. The new bridge over the Tamor and other suspension bridges were destroyed. But that was not the end of the story. On 29 October 1968 came news that 91 people had been killed in Taplejung, 60 in Terathum, 30 in Panchthar and three in Dhankuta. Just in the Tamor watershed, 184 people were killed and thousands made homeless. Nepalis have learnt over the years to be prepared for disasters during the monsoon, and to breathe a sigh of relief when the rains end. But the 1968 floods hit after the monsoon, when people felt safer. Floods were nothing new in the Tamor. There was an unimaginable one five years earlier on 15 August 1963 that swept away 16 houses in Olangchung Gola, and this flood was different from the one in 1968. Locals remember an air blast preceding the flash flood, and an approaching roar that shook the mountains like an earthquake. Houses shook, cattle cowered and goats ran for cover. Upstream, villagers saw clouds of dust and spray, and there was a smell of gunpowder in the air as enormous boulders collided with each other. Although this was the monsoon period, the precipitation in the day preceding the debris flow was normal. This could not have been caused by a cloudburst. Alton C Byers, the American glaciologist who has researched historical glacial floods in the Kangchenjunga region, used satellite imagery and interviews with local villagers to pinpoint the flood to the bursting of Tiptala glacial lake at 4,900m. “The gunpowder smell and the wind preceded the arrival of the debris flow,” remembers Nil Limbu of Chhiruwa of Taplejung, an eye witness of the 1963 event. “It destroyed everything, took away all the trees, left just rocks and boulders.” The flood washed away the mule trail along the Tamor, and swept away the flat meadow along the river where there used to be a weekly market. Today, the trail is higher above the river, but for years later, there used to be rockfalls from above. The debris flow raced downstream destroying houses, trails, bridges, farms, livestock. The flood made national news, and RSS reported that below Dhankuta, the Tamor destroyed the trail to Taplejung and washed away seven bridges. The glacial lake outburst flood on the Tamor met the Arun and then the Kosi where the river flow spiked to 6,371 cumecs. Further downstream in the plains, the flood destroyed the western embankment of the Kosi Barrage, inundating villages in more than 1m of water. A month later, the government released the death toll: 32 killed, unknown number of livestock, standing crops, and causing damage equivalent to 1.6% of Nepal’s annual budget that year. Nepal’s famous eye doctor Sanduk Ruit’s family also had to leave their home in Olangchung Gola after that flood and settled down in Dhankuta. The combined result of the record rainfall-induced floods of 1968 as well as the glacial lake outburst flood of 1963 could have been early examples of climate-induced floods, which have become more frequent in recent years.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240427010456_c6e6182935c1704629e175dc351f79b74367824a14be020d0b05bdda201a2747.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20240427010456_c6e6182935c1704629e175dc351f79b74367824a14be020d0b05bdda201a2747" data-rendition-name="original" width="1036" height="1184" loading="lazy" alt="Water crisis in Eastern Nepal"> </figure>  On 17 June 2023 Memeng station in Panchthar recorded 230mm rainfall in a 24 hour period, the highest rainfall ever recorded in that station (second highest was 148mm in July 2002). Nearby Dovan of Taplejung experienced 106mm on 18 June and 102mm on 19 June. The basin-wide floods on the Tamor and its tributaries caused damage worth at least Rs8.5 billion on 30 hydropower plants in Sankhuwasabha, Taplejung and Panchthar. Eighteen workers were killed. Half of these schemes were under construction, but plants generating 130MW were knocked out of action. Some, like the Upper Piluwa Khola 2 and Super Hewa Khola have still not been repaired. While these were all caused by extreme rainfall events, on the Sikkim side of Kangchenjunga a post-monsoon disaster on 4 October 2023 washed away several hydropower plants on Teesta and its tributaries, and killed nearly 100 people downstream. The 1,200MW Chungthang Dam built at a cost of $1billion was destroyed. It was later revealed that extreme rainfall on the South Lhonak Glacial Lake, north of Kangchenjunga, caused the collapse of a lateral moraine which allowed a wave to breach the terminal moraine. The lateral moraine could have been weakened by thawing permafrost, and collapsed during heavy rainfall on the night of 4 October.&nbsp; The Sikkim disaster was an important lesson for Nepal, which has invested heavily in infrastructure on this side of the border. More than a dozen medium and large hydropower plants have been built or are under construction along the Tamor alone. The 1960 Tiptala and the 1980 Nangama glacial lake bursts are further proof that such disasters can happen again without warning because of climate breakdown. Besides droughts and floods, landslides are also the reason many people from eastern Nepal have migrated to the relative safety of the plains. A huge landslide in 1946 in Hangdeva in Taplejung is still displacing many people. East of Hangdeva, another landslide in 1977 killed 25 people and the rest of the village just moved out. It is clear that with the climate crisis, extreme weather events and glacial lake bursts will be more serious and frequent, affecting lives and livelihoods, contributing to outmigration.&nbsp; This is the final of a three-part series supported by the Barbara Foundation.

Either too little, or too much water

The oil on canvas shows an artist painting an image of Lord Brahma on a clay pot.&nbsp; The One Who Creates a Creator is the work of Tej Bahadur Chitrakar, considered the pioneer of contemporary art in Nepal.&nbsp; The painting was bought from a gallery in Darbar Marg by former Danish diplomat and anthropologist Dr Michael Vinding in 1986. It remained in Denmark until Rajan Sakya of the Museum of Nepali Art (MoNA) bought the painting and brought it back to Nepal this year.&nbsp; Tej Bahadur, who died in 1971, &nbsp;was himself the son of artist Shiva Das Chitrakar. Tej's son Madan Chitrakar, who is also an artist and art historian, unveiled the painting at MoNA this week. Vinding, now in his seventies, was also present.&nbsp; Vinding had contacted Madan after reading his books on the painting that he bought, and their mutual admiration for Nepali art kept them in touch. &nbsp; “One of my very favourite paintings of my father’s is right here after a long absence from Nepal,” said an emotional Madan at the unveiling. “I have a special attachment with this series of paintings, which is a celebration of Nepal’s art heritage and social life.” Madan was back home from college in Bombay in 1967, and his father was planning to work on a series depicting the lives and struggles of Nepal’s mountain communities.&nbsp; Madan felt it was important to document the heritage and the profession that the Chitrakar community had inherited. When he suggested this to his father, Tej Bahadur agreed to do it right away, and depicted pottery, paubha, and wooden strut paintings in his series.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240426060416_b4d75ebfac77bfe5e660996da861f95b59e4ecb6b86c0ad0b3a72b10d93c2309.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20240426060416_b4d75ebfac77bfe5e660996da861f95b59e4ecb6b86c0ad0b3a72b10d93c2309" data-rendition-name="original" width="2100" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Painting a Painter Page 9 NT #1209"> <figcaption>The first painting in the Tej Bahadur Chitrakar series, Tribute to My Forefather (left) and Ancestor at work, the third in the series documenting the heritage of the Chitrakar community. Photos: FUKUOKA ASIAN ART MUSEUM (left)/MUSEUM OF NEPALI ART (right)</figcaption> </figure>  But Tej Bahadur needed a reference for his work. So Madan sat his father down as a model and made various sketches of his face, as well as hand, eye, and sitting positions. Tej Bahadur did his paintings based on those sketches of himself, and this became a collaborative project between father and son.&nbsp; The three paintings in this series, of which The One Who Creates a Creator is the second, took Tej Bahadur six months to complete. The first, titled Tribute to My Forefather, depicts a man working on a paubha, and is at the Fukuoka Asian Art Museum. The third, Ancestor at Work, shows an artist painting a temple strut was the only one in the series still with Madan Chitrakar. The second and third paintings are now reunited and are on display at MoNA. “I was in tears when I saw the painting,” Madan told Nepali Times, “I recalled sketching my father, and he creating these paintings all those years ago. It all flashed before my eyes.” Rajan Sakya got in touch with the Vinding family, who agreed to sell it to MoNa. &nbsp; “Luckily it belonged to a collector who has deep roots in Nepal, and he had taken care of it,” says Sakya. “This is the homecoming of a painting that started the contemporary art movement in Nepal.” &nbsp;

Painting a painter

For Prime Minister Pushpa Kamal Dahal the past week has been eventful in more ways than one. His Home Minister Rabi Lamichhane’s troubles is shaking the coalition, and there are rumours of the NC and the UML in talks. By-elections in Ilam and Bajhang are set to become a referendum on legacy parties.&nbsp;
In the midst of all this, there was the overnight state visit of the emir of Qatar which was so epic the government declared a national holiday. Qatar and Nepal signed a commerce agreement, and to sweeten the deal the emir was gifted two elephants.&nbsp;
The Qatari visit set the stage for the third Nepal Investment Summit on 28-29 April that will showcase 150 projects for potential investors, including schemes for hydropower, transport, tourism, and agriculture.
Previous investment summits in 2017 and 2019 pledged $13.5 billion and $17 billion respectively, of which not much ever materialised. This time, the investment climate is worse because of political instability, too few laws, and too much red tape. &nbsp;
“The state of Nepal’s economy, combined with bureaucratic hurdles and the challenges faced by foreign investors in land and resource acquisition, has made attracting FDI difficult,” says Pushkar Bajracharya, formerly of &nbsp;the National Planning Commission.&nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/nepal-looks-at-alternative-investments">Nepal looks at alternative investments</a>, Siddhant Raj Pandey
The same woes from the last two investment summits persist. Nepal has had three coalition governments in the last two years, banks are flush with cash because no one is borrowing, &nbsp;and there is a mass exodus of skilled Nepalis.&nbsp;
“Lack of political stability results in policy instability,” explains economist Posh Raj Pandey. “This is why Nepal’s FDI has not lived up to commitments. Potential investors have decided that internal risk factors outweigh any business opportunities.”&nbsp;
Everyone went to sleep after the last investment summit, and there was little preparation for this hurriedly planned one. Nepal’s private sector has long urged the government to amend laws to improve the investment climate. The government did amend nine out of dozens of laws, but through ordinance on Tuesday. &nbsp;
“What kind of message are we sending to internationals when we amend laws through ordinance rather than Parliament?" asks Pandey. “Amendment will not inspire confidence unless they are put into practice, which we historically have not done.”
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/invest-in-investment">Invest in investment</a>, Nepali Times
While some experts think ordinances speed things up, they admit most legal changes brought to address Nepal's investment environment have been ad hoc and limited to paper.
Forget foreign investors, even domestic businesses face obstacles and corruption. Nepal’s internet service providers (ISPs) and the Nepal Telecommunication Authority are on the warpath.&nbsp;
ISPs have been unable to pay Indian firms that provide &nbsp;bandwidth after the government refused to provide them with INR, citing unpaid royalties and taxes.
Such stonewalling is present in just about every sector, dissuading investors in IT, banking and the service industry. Most investors are in natural resource extraction, which has little value added.&nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/invest-in-investment">Invest in investment</a>, Nepali Times
This time the government is &nbsp;giving investors a shopping list that includes 18 hydropower projects and 19 transport schemes.&nbsp;
“While hydropower may create short-term jobs, efficiency-seeking investment in the manufacturing, agricultural, and other sectors will create more long-term opportunities for Nepalis, and will be in our best interest,” says Pandey. &nbsp;&nbsp;
Although the summit will have attendees from over 50 countries, most potential investors are from India and China.
“Current investment summits seem to be guided by India and China’s vested interest in Nepal rather than the market and economic possibilities here,” notes Bajracharya. However, Nepal can leverage its proximity to hitch its wagons to these two giant locomotives.&nbsp;
Adds Bajracharya “Our long-term prospects look good, because India and China are set to overtake the US as the world's biggest economies over the next few years, which will attract investors from elsewhere. Our immediate goal must be to first create a conducive investment climate. After that, investments will come.” &nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/killing-investment-in-nepal-in-10-easy-steps">Killing investment in Nepal in 10 easy steps</a>, Dibesh Karmacharya

Why invest in Nepal?

For most Nepalis, the arrival of the emir of Qatar to Kathmandu in four jets on Tuesday was marked by just one matter of importance: the government declared it a holiday. The decision was greeted by howls of ridicule in the Nepali cybersphere with posts poking fun at a former monarchy pulling all stops to give a lavish welcome to a foreign monarch. To be sure, Qatar is economically important because there are an estimated 400,000 Nepalis working in the Gulf emirate and an important source of remittance to families back home.&nbsp; However, working conditions for Nepalis in the Gulf in general and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/rights-referees-blow-whistle-on-world-cup-fouls">Qatar in particular</a> are said to be poor with few safeguards on labour rights. Migrant worker welfare was said to be high on the agenda in meetings between Sheikh Tamim bin Hamad Al Thani and Nepal’s Prime Minister Pushpa Kamal Dahal. Dahal is also said to have brought up the issue of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/hamas-releases-thais-but-where-is-bipin">Nepali student Bipin Joshi</a> believed to have been among those abducted by Hamas in its 7 October attack on southern Israel in which 10 other Nepalis were killed. It is not clear how effective this will be since Qatar’s mediation in the Israel-Hamas conflict has been deadlocked as Israel disregards international pressure to stop killing Palestinian civilians. Sheikh Hamad al-Thani arrived in Kathmandu from a visit to <a href="https://www.dhakatribune.com/bangladesh/foreign-affairs/342874/ministry-qatar-emir%E2%80%99s-visit-to-strengthen" target="_blank">Bangladesh</a>, another country with a sizeable migrant worker population in Qatar.&nbsp; In a statement prior to the Qatar emir’s visit to the two countries, the New York-based group Human Rights Watch (HRW) urged Qatar to take labour rights and welfare more seriously. ‘It is important for Qatar, Bangladesh, and Nepal to go beyond exchanging diplomatic pleasantries over their longstanding labour ties and seize this moment to publicly commit to concrete, enforceable protections that address the serious abuses that migrant workers in Qatar continue to face,’ said <a href="https://www.hrw.org/about/people/michael-page" target="_blank">Michael Page</a> of HRW.&nbsp; He added: ‘The Qatari emir should not just meet heads of state, but also visit dialysis centres filled with migrant worker returnees from Qatar and speak with the families of workers who died in Qatar to see the grave consequences of inadequate Qatari labour protections.’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024042322044_22180746f870255db298aec402e8ec0da6bdbaeacf50649a98ffb0c4b7472aef.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2024042322044_22180746f870255db298aec402e8ec0da6bdbaeacf50649a98ffb0c4b7472aef" data-rendition-name="original" width="1800" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="Qatari leader in Nepal reminded of workers’ rights NT"> <figcaption>Emir of Qatar Sheikh Tamim bin Hamad Al-Thani arrived in Kathmandu on Tuesday on a two-day state visit. Photo RSS</figcaption> </figure>  Migrant workers from Bangladesh, Nepal and other labour-exporting countries play a vital role in Qatar’s economy and were instrumental in the construction of the 2022 World Cup.&nbsp; ‘The Qatar-to-Nepal and Bangladesh routes that the Qatari leader is taking are well-trodden, with thousands of workers making this journey daily,’ the HRW statement said. Although Nepali workers send back remittances from Qatar, many end up deeper in debt to pay back unscrupulous recruiters and employers who cheat them of promised salaries. Heat stress from global warming has also made working conditions impossible, and many Nepali workers <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/too-hot-to-work">return with kidney failures</a>. HRW says some workers also have been deported for <a href="https://www.hrw.org/news/2022/10/12/qatar/fifa-address-demands-migrant-worker-strikes" target="_blank">demanding</a> wages and benefits promised by contractors, and there have been thousands of <a href="https://www.hrw.org/news/2019/10/10/qatar-urgently-investigate-migrant-worker-deaths" target="_blank">unexplained deaths</a> of young, healthy migrant workers in Qatar. Nepal ends up paying compensation to the families of many migrant workers who have lost their lives, not Qatar. HRW says it has documented cases of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/world-cup-ending-without-migrant-relief">Nepali families who received no support </a>from Qatari authorities or employers after losing the worker supporting them.&nbsp; Only some Qatari companies complied with a directive making contractors provide life insurance for migrant workers, even during the construction spree for the 2022 World Cup.&nbsp; The climate crisis is increasing outmigration from Nepal at a time when it is also making Qatar too hot to work in.&nbsp; HRW said the Qatari authorities have <a href="https://www.hrw.org/news/2020/09/24/qatar-significant-labor-and-kafala-reforms" target="_blank">introduced</a> labour reforms, but they came too late and were too little and too narrow in scope. “The labour agreement to be signed during the emir’s visit should incorporate concrete provisions to <a href="https://www.hrw.org/sites/default/files/related_material/Protecting%20Asian%20Migrants%27%20Rights.pdf" target="_blank">address</a> these issues,' the HRW statement read, adding that the best way for the emir to mark his trip would be to guarantee migrant worker welfare. Meanwhile, an <a href="https://thediplomat.com/2022/11/nepalis-feel-the-human-toll-of-qatars-world-cup/">investigative story by Nepali journalists Samik Kharel and Roshan Sedhai</a> on widows of Nepali workers who died during the construction of facilities for the 2022 World Cup was runner-up for best story in the civil rights category of the Fetisov Awards given in Istanbul on Tuesday.

Qatari leader in Nepal reminded of workers’ rights

Sudarshan Dhakal crouches next to a motorcycle, carefully runs his fingers over its engine, finds the faulty part and removes it.&nbsp; He gets a spare part and replaces the component. He tests the engine, which roars into life emitting blue smoke from the silencer. Sudarshan, 54, owns and runs Dhakal Motorcycle Workshop with his wife Kamala Aryal. It is like thousands of other repair shops along the highway. What makes this one different is that Sudarshan cannot see. It was 1996 when Sudarshan was in a group ferrying brand new Honda motorcycles from the warehouse in Hetauda to the Dharan showroom. Near the Kosi Barrage, the car in front of him braked abruptly. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/an-eye-for-two-eyes">An eye for two eyes</a>, Yugottam Koirala  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240422070424_969d8d0e572373724f57e022fd67e925f03e134406cc0e2849fa7b3ae7926898.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20240422070424_969d8d0e572373724f57e022fd67e925f03e134406cc0e2849fa7b3ae7926898" data-rendition-name="original" width="800" height="421" loading="lazy" alt="Sudarshan Dakhal"> </figure>  The last thing Sudarshan ever saw was the car’s red brake light before he lost his vision. He had managed to pull over by the side of the road when his friends came back to look for him.&nbsp; “When they found me that day, I could just make out the white of the highway centreline, and car lights,” Sudarshan recalls. Ever since, Sudarshan can only see dimly during the daytime, and not at all in the dark. “Everything looks foggy, and I wondered if there was a treatment,” adds Sudarshan, who still bumps into things but has learnt to get around.&nbsp; Doctors at Tilganga Hospital had told him after the accident that his optic nerves had been damaged and there was nothing they could do. He went to India for a second opinion, but the diagnosis was the same. &nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/touching-others-with-words">Touching others with words</a>, Nepali Times  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240422070424_cce29890f3fda45a0b4afd611fb5b2cd01019309e313ec089d3b13399a369513.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20240422070424_cce29890f3fda45a0b4afd611fb5b2cd01019309e313ec089d3b13399a369513" data-rendition-name="original" width="1390" height="893" loading="lazy" alt="Sudarshan Dakhal"> </figure>  Sudarshan was not one to lose hope. He might have lost his eyesight, but not his passion for motorcycles. He can tell what is wrong just by revving the engine. In case the motorcycle cannot start at all, he uses his tools deftly to get to the bottom of it. For electrical faults, he needs his wife or son to help him with the colours of the wires. He can also assemble small parts of motorcycles without help. “It might take me a few tries, but eventually, the parts fit where they are supposed to,” he says.&nbsp; As a young boy, Sudarshan realised that he did not have much of an aptitude for academics after failing his Grade 9 exams. So, at age 16, he taught himself to repair Japanese cars simply by looking at catalogues. &nbsp; Today at his garage, Sudarshan takes care of maintenance while Kamala handles customers and does procurement. When there is a heavy workload, Kamala joins her husband and gets her hands dirty as well.&nbsp; Read also:<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/seeing-the-unseen-in-nepal"> Seeing the unseen in Nepal</a>, Asmi Ghimire  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240422070424_d4db6ac44283a687ad477de4b3a5a9e88ca571962097e0761bdf36a711632704.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20240422070424_d4db6ac44283a687ad477de4b3a5a9e88ca571962097e0761bdf36a711632704" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="900" loading="lazy" alt="Sudarshan Dakhal"> </figure>  Their son Rajiv has also been trained in repairs. If a bike needs a test run, Rajiv takes it out for a spin. Rajiv is actually a priest, and is mostly away from home officiating rituals. But whenever he is free he helps out his parents. “I wondered why this pundit in his white robe, his Sanskrit hymns and the smell of incense would want to work in a greasy, dirty garage that reeks of kerosene,” says Sudarshan. “It took some time for him to adjust, but now he enjoys this work as well.” It has been 27 years since Sudarshan lost his eyesight, but he has not let this stop him from continuing with his profession. The Dhakal family makes a decent living, and Sudarshan attributes this to his passion, skill and experience. "No job is too big or small," says Sudarshan, “what is more important is dedication, integrity and a sense of fulfilment from helping others.” Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/nepals-far-sighted-eye-care">Nepal's far-sighted eye care</a>, Sonia Awale

Zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance

Kathmandu’s other jazz festival, KatJazz, returns for its sixth iteration this month, blending contemporary tunes with the rich traditional music of Nepal and beyond. This eight-day music fest starts on 22 April and concludes with a grand celebration of a finale on the UNESCO recognised International Jazz Day on 30 April. The very first KatJazz in 2017 had jazz education as its objective. The festival has come a long way since and has been integral in further lifting Nepal’s jazz scene, perfectly aligning with the theme this year ‘The Jazz Trail to Kathmandu: Past Voices. Global Sounds. Future Harmonies.’ “This festival is a two-way thing. It brings Western jazz music to Nepal but it simultaneously puts Nepal’s music to world music,” says Abhisek Bhadra, academic director of Kathmandu Jazz Conservatory (KJC), co-organiser of the festival.&nbsp; This year’s lineup features 15 international and 12 Nepali musicians as well as 11 women musicians of KJC Rajamati Choir. “Our emphasis has been on local artists and the collaboration that will take place between the ensemble,” adds Bhadra.&nbsp; The ‘Taking the Lead: The Diverse Voices of Women in Jazz’ session scheduled for 27 April is set to be the highlight of the entire festival. The session will celebrate female musicians in the jazz scene with performances from Juliana Rodrigues, Enji and Maria Fajardo. The artists have all worked extensively, blending jazz with the traditional and folk music of their homelands. Says Abhisek Bhadra: “We are celebrating contemporary jazz music while acknowledging and appreciating traditional music of Nepal and elsewhere.” &nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/jazzing-up-the-mandu-for-20-years">Jazzing up the ‘Mandu for 20 years</a>, Aïsha MacDougall <h2>Ben van den Dungen Quartet &nbsp; (The Netherlands)</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240421110428_3f2422989e2c43c002aed73545f7e411557af406286338f37011c3334d8352e6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20240421110428_3f2422989e2c43c002aed73545f7e411557af406286338f37011c3334d8352e6" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1133" loading="lazy" alt="Ben van den Dungen Quartet"> </figure>  Ben van den Dungen is an acclaimed Dutch Jazz saxophonist who started his concert career in the early 1980s and has since performed in 6,000 concerts in 70 different countries. His band, Ben van den Dungen Quartet, has regularly toured South America, Russia, Indonesia, South Korea, China, India and Europe.&nbsp; At KatJazz, the quartet is paying tribute to the legendary saxophonist John Coltrane, one of the most influential saxophonists of all time. In this dazzling ode, they present a contemporary interpretation of a repertoire that has rightly been labelled as 'classics'. Ben van den Dungen – Saxophone | Miguel Rodriguez – Piano | Steve Zwanink – Bass | Mitchel Damen – Drums <h2>Enji&nbsp;</h2> <h2>(Mongolia/Germany)</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240421110432_e4450b10ff9a05f5cd70cd02e96b9acfa2ea78da9e4b54f50695c22e8a4d293b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20240421110432_e4450b10ff9a05f5cd70cd02e96b9acfa2ea78da9e4b54f50695c22e8a4d293b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Enji"> </figure>  Enkhjargal Erkhembayar ‘Enji’ is a Mongolian-born Jazz singer and songwriter. As such, there is a touch of Mongolian folk to her music. Enji’s previous album, 'Ursgal,' received acclaim from The New York Times, The Washington Post and The Guardian, making it to the Best Jazz Albums of 2023. She was also invited to perform for COLORS in Berlin. For this year’s lineup, she is joined by Martin Zenker on double bass and Paul Brandle on guitar, adding new dimensions to her already extraordinary sound. Enji - Voice | Martin Zenker - Bass |Paul Brandle - Guitar Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/bass-and-no-treble">Bass and No Treble</a>, Sajeet M Rajbhandari <h2>Gyan Residency</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240421110432_1e921a7a3312bd71d0950142c655c7a71ff2abbfb63b20e2205f774d2a582dce.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20240421110432_1e921a7a3312bd71d0950142c655c7a71ff2abbfb63b20e2205f774d2a582dce" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1468" loading="lazy" alt="Gyan Residency"> </figure>  The Gyan-KJC Residency, a crucial part of the KatJazz festivals, has been providing a space for collaborative dialogue through music. This year, it brings together Nepali maestros Shree KC (dhrupad vocals), Santosh Bhakta Shrestha (esraj), and Jagannath Dhaugoda (tabla), alongside international artists from Chile (Tomas Carrasco, Moa Edmunds), Brazil (Juliana Rodrigues), Spain (Javier Galiana, Javi Delgado, Guillermo Martín-Viana, Pedro Cortejosa), Mongolia (Enji Erkhem), and Nepali folk musicians, including Pushpa Palanchoke. Before 22 April, these participating artists will discuss Hindustani music, Nepali folk, and Western music in workshops aimed at deepening the understanding of Hindustani music among Western performers and vice-versa, fostering cross-cultural learning. In the next phase from 23-25 April, all the artists will collaborate and put together a blended music piece which will be showcased at the Gyan-KJC Residency concert on 30 April at Moksh in Jhamsikhel.&nbsp; <h2>Jhuma Limbu and Raithane Music&nbsp;</h2> <h2>(Nepal)</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240421110436_d8598c4ceaa57272816d15a9d77c9f8ecf174f3e1a36df270737016d6b7b4ff3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20240421110436_d8598c4ceaa57272816d15a9d77c9f8ecf174f3e1a36df270737016d6b7b4ff3" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Jhuma Limbu"> </figure>  With over two decades of experience in the Nepali music industry, Jhuma Limbu is a highly skilled folk singer renowned for her performances across diverse genres including cultural, folk, playback, patriotic, and modern music. Limbu is dedicated to preserving and promoting Nepal's rich indigenous musical traditions. This concert is a fundraiser for her ongoing album-recording project in collaboration with Chilean musicians Tomás Carrasco and Moa Edmunds, and Nepali producer, keyboardist and arranger Abhisek Bhadra. Jhuma Limbu - Voice | Manice Gandarva - Sarangi | Tomás Carrasco - Flutes | Moa Edmunds - Guitar | Abhisek Bhadra - Piano | Sudhir Acharya - Percussion | Javier Delgado - Upright Bass Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/orchestrating-cross-cultural-collaboration">Orchestrating cross-cultural collaboration</a>, Tayama Rai <h2>Juliana Rodrigues&nbsp;</h2> <h2>(Brazil)</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240421110436_94f1cfbe5ec5e59a7930ef9482b9786a2b0dad9f7bc35bae1c0849d9e28170d4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20240421110436_94f1cfbe5ec5e59a7930ef9482b9786a2b0dad9f7bc35bae1c0849d9e28170d4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1750" height="745" loading="lazy" alt="Juliana Rodrigues"> </figure>  A pianist and composer from Sao Paulo, Juliana Rodrigues has released two albums, Vive and Mnemosine, showcasing her unique and diverse musical background. Her team of three performs with excellent cohesion, bringing her compositions to life with a repertoire of rhythms, phrasing, and collective improvisation.&nbsp; Rodrigues is also a member of the women-only samba group Dona da Rua, which recently released singles Filha da Luta and Que Venha em Mim. She has performed at Sala São Paulo, Festival Jazz al Este, Instrumental SESC Brasil, Savassi Festival, and Sonamos Latinoamérica. Juliana Rodrigues - Piano | Rajat Rai - Bass | Prajwal B.K. (Punku) - Drums <h2>Samyog Regmi and Co. (Nepal/Spain)</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240421110432_b1e551e11fa610c40a01c8ba51544fa8b8d91998faf649ca437d0e197ad4d62d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20240421110432_b1e551e11fa610c40a01c8ba51544fa8b8d91998faf649ca437d0e197ad4d62d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="997" loading="lazy" alt="Samyog Regmi"> </figure>  Samyog Regmi, born in Nepal, was immersed in diverse musical influences from an early age, including local traditional music, jazz, and Eastern classical music. An alumni of the Kathmandu Jazz Conservatory (KJC), Regmi pursued musical studies in the Netherlands. His compositions span various ensembles, including his quintet (a group of five playing music/ singing together), septet (a group of seven playing music/ singing together), and the Conservatory of Amsterdam Big Band.&nbsp; Recently, Samyog released his album Unpopular Opinion. At KatJazz 2024, get ready to witness his musical craft accompanied by international artists from Chile and Spain. Guillermo Martín-Viana (Spain) - &nbsp;Drums | Tomás Carrasco (Chile) - &nbsp;Flute/Sax &nbsp;| &nbsp;Pedro Cortejosa (Spain) - Saxophone | Javi Delgado (Spain) - Upright Bass <h2>Versados Despistados Quartet&nbsp;</h2> <h2>(Spain)</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240421110448_71b6459b542f238634cf7f154404667f9988999f3b671d330e4dd93b369c7818.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20240421110448_71b6459b542f238634cf7f154404667f9988999f3b671d330e4dd93b369c7818" data-rendition-name="original" width="4100" height="1050" loading="lazy" alt="Versados Despistados Quartet"> </figure>  The four Andalusian (south of Spain) musicians that make up Versados Despistados Quartet have been in the national and international scene for years. With their own voice and classic jazz instrumentation, this quartet explores the fusion between different forms of Andalusian and Afro-American music. Featuring Pedro Cortejosa on saxophone, Javier Galiana on piano, Javier Delgado on double bass, and Guillermo Martín-Viana on drums, Versados Despistados, which translates to ‘versed scatterbrains’ takes the audience on a dynamic journey of sound with freshness and a sense of humor that catches one by surprise. Pedro Cortejosa - Tenor saxophone | Javier Galiana - Piano | Javier Delgado - Double Bass | Guillermo Martín-Viana - Drums Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/in-nepal-east-meets-west-musically">In Nepal, East meets West musically</a>, Shrijan Pandey <h2>SCHEDULE</h2> Piano Explorations with Javi Galiana and Juliana Rodrigues&nbsp; Monday, 22 April&nbsp; 7PM onwards&nbsp; Rs800 Alliance Française, Pulchok&nbsp; Samyog Regmi and Co.&nbsp; Tuesday, 23 April 7PM onwards&nbsp; Rs800 Jazz Upstairs, Lazimpat&nbsp; A Tribute to Coltrane by Ben Van Den Dungen Quartet&nbsp; Wednesday, 24 April&nbsp; 7PM onwards&nbsp; Rs800&nbsp; Dhokaima cafe, Patandhoka&nbsp; Enji (Enkhjargal Erkhembayar) Thursday, 25 April&nbsp; 7PM onwards&nbsp; Rs800&nbsp; Moksh, Jhamsikhel&nbsp; Versados Despistados&nbsp; Friday, 26 April&nbsp; 7PM onwards&nbsp; Rs800 EDN Sanepa&nbsp; Taking the Lead: The Diverse Voices of Women in Jazz with Juliana Rodrigues, Enji, Maria Fajardo&nbsp; Saturday, 27 April&nbsp; 6PM onwards&nbsp; Rs1000 Yellow House, Sanepa&nbsp; Jhuma Limbu and Raithane Music Monday, 29 April 7PM onwards&nbsp; Rs1000 Mandala Theatre, Thapagaun International Jazz Day Concert Tuesday, 30 April&nbsp; 7PM onwards &nbsp; Rs1200 Moksh, Jhamsikhel&nbsp;

Jazzing up Kathmandu again

The 7.2M Taiwan earthquake on 3 April was a reminder for us here in Nepal about the importance of preparation with up to code infrastructure, earthquake early warning sensors hooked to mobile &nbsp;networks, seismic risk education in schools, and swift emergency response.&nbsp;
Although 13 people were killed, readiness saved lives. Skyscrapers shook and swayed but did not fall, high-rises tilted but did not collapse. A similar intensity earthquake in Taiwan in 1999 had killed 2,400 people. &nbsp;
This week marks nine years since Nepal’s 2015 earthquakes that killed nearly 9,000 people. It has been four months since a 6.4M quake <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/learning-from-jajarkot-what-we-didnt-after-2015-695vpzle">struck Jajarkot and West Rukum</a> near midnight on 3 November, claiming 153 lives.&nbsp;
In the immediate aftermath of 2015, building codes, earthquake-resistant designs and retrofitting became high priority. But as memories fade, so does the fear. Nine years on, buildings <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-rise-of-high-rises">including high-rises that flout zoning and building codes</a> have come up in Kathmandu while <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-occupation-of-tundikhel">open spaces have further shrunk</a>.&nbsp;
Himalayan seismologists have warned that 2015 was not the Big One, the kind of quake that hits central Nepal every 80 or so years. Neither was Jajarkot the megaquake scientists had expected in western Nepal’s seismic gap. As we have been saying in this paper for the last 24 years, the next big earthquake is ‘not a matter of if, but when’.
While the 14 districts affected by the 2015 disaster have now mostly been rebuilt, and are better prepared, the rest of the country is not. A &gt;8M megaquake in Western Nepal would be a trans-boundary disaster of unthinkable proportions.
In Jajarkot and West Rukum, many <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/jajarkot-survivors-show-collective-resilience">survivors spent the winter </a>without a roof over their heads, and they still await relief to rebuild. The National &nbsp;Reconstruction Authority (NRA) might have taken nine months to set up after the 2015 earthquake, but that disaster should have been a lesson for timely assessment for earthquake relief at the very least.
Nepal is a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/lost-and-damaged">landmine of disasters</a>. Nearly 350 people have died just in the past year in floods, landslides, lightning, and forest fires, and not including Jajarkot. We are now in the thick of wildfire season. Hundreds of forest fires are burning across the country, some for weeks. Three fire-fighting soldiers and three children picking mushrooms were killed by wind-fanned flames just in the past week.&nbsp;
The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-suffers-another-winter-drought">prolonged winter drought</a> should have warned us that this year, the fires would be much worse. But adding fuel to the fires, as it were, is the new trend of burning wheat straw after harvest by farmers.&nbsp;
Fire is always followed by flood, and this year, weather models predict above-normal monsoon precipitation. As it is, monsoons have become erratic with extreme downpours followed by weeks without rain. Mohan Mainali’s ongoing series in Nepali Times <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/people-and-mountains-are-thirsty-in-eastern-nepal">analysing meteorological, hydrological and demographic data from eastern Nepal </a>shows that Nepal has always suffered from either too little or too much water, and this has contributed to outmigration.
Landslides triggered by heavy rainfall along Nepal’s <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/roadkill">poorly designed roads</a> in never-ending states of construction magnify the risk. Landslides can also frequently block rivers, which raises the need for early warning systems.
And if all this was not bad enough, we have the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/sikkim-flood-is-warning-to-nepal">threat of GLOFs </a>from glacial lakes swollen with ice melted by climate breakdown. The water level in the Tso Rolpa glacial lake in Rolwaling was reduced by 3m in 2002, and the water level of Imja Lake was lowered after the 2015 earthquake to mitigate the risk of GLOFs. But these lakes continue to expand as the Himalaya warms 0.7oC faster than the global average.&nbsp;
Thulagi glacial lake below Himalchuli is another one in danger of bursting, and would wash away four hydropower projects downstream on the Marsyangdi River. A GLOF from the precariously situated Lake 464 in the Hinku Valley would race down the Dudh Kosi Valley, into the Sun Kosi and right down to the Tarai.&nbsp;
While these lakes are all dangerous by themselves, they could burst simultaneously during a major earthquake. Which means Nepal must be prepared not just for earthquakes, but the co-seismic risk of catastrophic debris flows along its rivers.&nbsp;
Disaster preparedness means knowing and acknowledging potential without spreading panic and crying wolf. And:&nbsp;
<ul>
 <li>Stockpiling and pre-positioning food and other relief materials</li>
 <li>Investing in search and rescue equipment and training</li>
 <li>Safety drills and earthquake education in schools</li>
 <li>Decentralised first responders with aerial medevac</li>
</ul>
Shristi Karki

Disastrous preparedness

Top news

20 years ago as the protests against the monarchy gained momentum, we wrote what it could mean for the institution and who were likely to benefit.
In a little less than a year, King Gyanendra once again dismissed Prime Minister Sher Bahadur Deuba and his cabinet, and assumed direct power. In April 2006, after two weeks of sustained protests, Gyanendra was forced to step aside, and the Maoists made it to mainstream politics. There was hope that democracy would change things, but political infighting and instability has continued for the past two decades as Nepal becomes a 'Banana Republic'.&nbsp;
Excerpt from the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=3313">editorial</a> published 20 years ago this week on <a href="http://himalaya.socanth.cam.ac.uk/collections/journals/nepalitimes/pdf/Nepali_Times_193.pdf">issue #193 23-29 April 2004</a>: 
 
It is up to the king, as a first step in unlocking this stalemate, to make the move to set up an inclusive interim government. And it is up to the parties to offer solutions instead of creating more street mayhem. The king could be looking for a way to roll back October Fourth without losing face. For the sake of the country, the parties have to give him that option. It may also come to a point where it is smarter to risk losing face than to let this drag on with all its unpredictable consequences. Admission of a mismove can be easily made to look like a royal, statesmanlike effort to remove obstacles on the path to democratic renewal.
The street agitation is essentially friendly fire. Have they forgotten who the real enemy is? Are they trying to provoke a mass uprising, and play right into Maoist hands?
The Maoists have filled the vacuum left behind by the absence of the political parties at the grassroots and the absence of parliament at the centre. Each day that passes by without a representative government will only strengthen their revolution.
Democratic pluralism, with all its flaws, is the only bulwark against extremism and totalitarianism. It is the buffer the monarchy needs to return to its constitutional role. That is when the monarchy will again have continuity, be respected, and-like in Thailand-re-earn its role of being the final arbiter in times of deep national crisis. 
 
For archived material of Nepali Times of the past 20 years, site search: <a href="http://nepalitimes.com/" target="_blank">nepalitimes.com</a>

Banana Republic

Born in Khandbari in eastern Nepal, Parashuram Pathak helped his family around the farm, sold what they grew in the market and lent a hand in the kitchen.&nbsp; After working as a chef in Dubai, San Francisco, Denmark, Australia, and on cruise ships, Pathak has now brought back what he has learnt to the Tusa Restaurant in Bhaktapur that opened on Nepali New Year on 13 April. Tusa uses fresh indigenous ingredients from various parts of Nepal, and fuses them with international methods to produce unique dishes. Pathak is a global Nepali, and is introducing global Nepali cuisine to his homeland. Pathak left an executive chef job to intern at three-Michelin-starred Noma in Denmark, named the best restaurant in the world five times. Noma runs on a philosophy of foraging to rediscover wild local ingredients, and Tusa’s mission is similarly noble: preparing dishes with Nepali ingredients using modern techniques and equipment. “We are taking Nepali food beyond dal-bhat and momo, we are taking it international,” Pathak said on the phone from Sydney. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepali-baker-rises-to-the-top-in-denmark">Denmark’s best baker is a Nepali</a>, Vishad Onta  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240419180424_1312bc016cbb2fe59c6d4a78d1f8b463af4a10b3f79559a2405fd54ea5b3197a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20240419180424_1312bc016cbb2fe59c6d4a78d1f8b463af4a10b3f79559a2405fd54ea5b3197a" data-rendition-name="original" width="801" height="802" loading="lazy" alt="The return of the natives Page 12 NT #1208"> <figcaption>Photo: PARASHURAM PATHAK/FACEBOOK</figcaption> </figure>  Pathak’s team in Nepal includes chefs Rupesh Bohara and Sagar Shrestha who have also worked extensively in Dubai and Australia, and share his vision. The three realised they shared the same dream, and over the past five years have travelled across Nepal to research their menu, collecting ingredients and ideas from homestays, food carts, and nature. The team then scouted for Nepal’s best architect, and zeroed in on Bhaktapur-based heritage conservationist Rabindra Puri who designed the Malla-era house for Tusa in the Nag Pokhari neighbourhood. Bohara and Shrestha have moved back to Nepal for good, and Pathak arrives in September. “I made dishes from all over the world, but when someone asked what Nepali food was like, I had no answer,” says Bohara, “I came back to find out.” &nbsp;“You can get citizenship, a green card, big houses and cars, but where is the self-satisfaction?” asks Shrestha, who has a red-and-blue chef’s knife with the sun and moon of the Nepali flag tattooed on his right forearm.&nbsp; Read also:<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/diaspora-diaries/the-return-of-a-master-baker"> The return of a master baker</a>, Raju Pakhrin  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240419180424_c601264463e5a28d4e71a46781f340a53619a08d00949a7aaebfef84e75a319d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20240419180424_c601264463e5a28d4e71a46781f340a53619a08d00949a7aaebfef84e75a319d" data-rendition-name="original" width="6000" height="4000" loading="lazy" alt="The return of the natives Page 12 NT #1208"> <figcaption>Photos: TUSA</figcaption> </figure>  Bohara and Shrestha passionately recount stories of their trips across Nepal, speaking of generous lodge owners who introduced them to local ingredients. Tusa can seat 28, and dining here is a sensory experience with a live kitchen. The chefs cook and place dishes on a large granite countertop with induction sections built in. Behind the counter is a grill on an indoor fire with pulley control to adjust the fire. Everything that can be made in Nepal — chairs and tables, ceramic dishes, the grill — is locally sourced. The executive kitchen/laboratory is downstairs. It is spacious, spotless, and contains appliances rarely seen in restaurants here: a sous vide machine that cooks vacuum-sealed packets at consistent temperatures, and a dehydrator for sisnu nettles. A fresh batch of deep purple kimbu (mulberry) muffins has just come out of the oven. Fridges have dry-aged fish and marigold kombucha. Fermentation seems to be the theme at Tusa, and Pathak explained: “Fermentation takes away the natural sugars in food, leaving behind a true, umami taste.”&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/vikings-khukri-passion">Viking's khukri passion</a>, Alisha Sijapati  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240419180424_c59e2b4230864f646bc36108adb951e95ec85da6156740294b1ec715b86acf89.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20240419180424_c59e2b4230864f646bc36108adb951e95ec85da6156740294b1ec715b86acf89" data-rendition-name="original" width="5895" height="3930" loading="lazy" alt="The return of the natives Page 12 NT #1208"> </figure>  Tusa itself means ‘shoot’ in Nepali, and can be a dish of fermented bamboo shoots. The restaurant serves a tasting menu with six courses, plus surprises. It starts with a fermented potato and millet roti with charred green garlic and tomato chutney. The bread tastes like a mix of alu paratha and kodoko roti with a satisfying, mild flavour. The chefs do not show off, and overdo it. Dishes are tastefully simple and faithful, a theme that runs through the meal. The second course is a filet of fish charred on one side and placed in a broth. It is delicate and smokey, and does not mask the character of the fish.&nbsp; The next is Batuk Chukauni, a Magar dish with a lentil snack and a yoghurt-based potato achar. The batuk, made of lentil batter, is light and the chukauni has potatoes and peas. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/money-is-not-everything-but-you-need-money-for-everything">"Money is not everything, but you need money for everything"</a>, Rohit Shrestha  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240419180424_e3f51228ff792e8d4297f81f8e67d138584e922ae035d131977494219e5e85c5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20240419180424_e3f51228ff792e8d4297f81f8e67d138584e922ae035d131977494219e5e85c5" data-rendition-name="original" width="1333" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="The return of the natives Page 12 NT #1208"> <figcaption>Batuk Chukauni. Photo: VISHAD ONTA</figcaption> </figure>  Next is a skewer of jackfruit with a tamarind and mustard glaze that has the texture of a slice of sausage and melts in the mouth. Then comes the first off-menu item: a steak of watermelon, glazed and grilled, tasting sweet, sour and smokey. After that a palate cleanser sorbet made with laligurans syrup adorned with a frozen candied rhododendron petal. Finally the main course: barbeque chicken and chyakla coarse corn grits. The chicken has been brined, marinated, cooked sous-vide and seared on the grill. The delicate consistency of the chicken stands out. Desert is a smooth, creamy cheesecake that uses the local juju-dhau yoghurt. And the last course is a moist, moss-green sisnu cake laced with mulberry jam and cream.&nbsp; There is nothing gimmicky about Tusa. It is the coming together of skilled Nepalis with international exposure who have mixed what they have learnt abroad with the flavours of home.&nbsp; The tasting menu is Rs3,500, and it may take some time before Nepalis develop a predilection for some of its items. The chefs are excited, vindicated, and relieved. Coming back to Nepal, uprooting successful careers abroad to take a chance on Nepal must not have been easy.&nbsp; Tusa had a soft launch on New Year’s day with Kathmandu-based diplomats. Australian Ambassador Felicity Volk was one of them, and wrote on a Facebook post: ‘Chefs who honed their skills in Australia and returned to Nepal to give back. We call it fine dining, they call it #cominghome.’ Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/the-baker-of-barpak">The baker of Barpak</a>, Tara Aryal Pandey

The return of the natives

For a year or two after the 25 April 2015 earthquake, the residents of Kathmandu were too terrified to return to their high-rise apartments. None of them collapsed in the 7.8 disaster, but many sustained serious structural damage. &nbsp;
Fast forward nine years, and they have all but forgotten that frightful day. Kathmandu is back to building substandard structures, even as land prices drive developers to build taller.&nbsp;
With no more space to spread horizontally, Kathmandu is going vertical. But structural engineers say most of the high rises do not take into account seismicity, soil condition, construction methods, quality of raw materials, fire hazard, and search and rescue in collapsed concrete structures.
“Much of our focus since the 2015 earthquake has been on building and construction, but not as much on where we are building,” warns Sangeeta Singh, Professor of Urban Planning and Deputy Director of Centre for Disaster Studies at the Institute of Engineering.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/in-a-disastrous-state">In a disastrous state</a>, Sonia Awale
She adds: “Kathmandu is not really suited for high-rises. We have to first test the condition of the soil, but building permits are being issued without this fundamental step.”
Kathmandu Valley is a former lakebed with soft topsoil prone to liquefaction and excessive shaking, as seen during the 1934 megaquake. Many ruptures tore up the surface in 2015. &nbsp;
During an earthquake, the rock layers below Kathmandu ring like a bell and the vibrations on the surface take between 0.5 to 2 seconds for one oscillation. Buildings also vibrate, but at different frequencies depending on their height, construction material, and arrangement of their structural components.
At five floors, the vibration period of a building is 0.5 seconds, which is the same as that for Kathmandu Valley, and this could cause more damage, says structural engineer Surya Narayan Shrestha at the National Society for Earthquake Technology - Nepal (NSET).
“Building anything that is five storeys or higher in Kathmandu needs special design and structural considerations,” says Shrestha.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/shaking-things-up">Shaking things up</a>, Editorial
Technologies exist to reduce seismic risk in high-rises, and these are used in earthquake-prone cities like Tokyo, Los Angeles, Jakarta or Mexico City.&nbsp;
Base isolation, for example, separates the vibration of the land and the building, reducing damage from soil-building resonance. Base isolators move and stretch under pressure, absorbing much of an earthquake's impact by reducing swaying and shaking. &nbsp;
Seismic dampers change the pattern of vibration altogether, dissipating energy as vibrations move across a structure. But these are all expensive technologies, and none of the high-rises in Kathmandu use them.
However, Nepali engineers who can help with technology transfer are working in the field in Nepal and overseas. Kathmandu’s high-rises are already very expensive, and making them seismic-resistant would be an incremental cost.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/learning-from-jajarkot-what-we-didnt-after-2015-695vpzle">Learning from Jajarkot what we didn't after 2015</a>, Sushil Gyewali
The shape of high-rises also matters. Reinforced concrete buildings with asymmetric designs of the kind that are seen in newer structures in Kathmandu experience more torsion and shear during quakes. High-rises with regular geometry are stronger. &nbsp;&nbsp;
An even bigger concern is that of emergency evacuation and rescue in case of fire or earthquake. Kathmandu fire services do not have ladders that reach the higher floors of most new structures.
“High-rises mean more people and potentially higher casualties,” explains Shrestha. “We need immediate evacuation routes, fire escapes, emergency ladders, and fire trucks that can reach higher. Right now, safety features are voluntary and not mandatory.”
The street access, shelters, open spaces, and evacuation routes are integral to disaster preparedness and the safety of neighbourhoods and not just buildings. Most new high-rises in Kathmandu have narrow access roads.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/rebuilding-resilience-7-years-later">Rebuilding resilience 7 years later</a>, Anil Pokhrel
Since most of the buildings that survived the 2015 disaster were reinforced concrete structures, it fed the misconception that they are safer. But Himalayan seismologists say that if the intensity and duration of the shaking had been just a little higher, many substandard concrete structures would have collapsed.&nbsp;
And that is the final gap: Nepal’s limited expertise and equipment for search and rescue inside collapsed concrete structures. Kathmandu’s high-rises need to be better prepared for the next Big One.
“Structural safety and design were at the front and the centre after the 2015 earthquake, we also revised some building codes but we are back to square one with contractor-driven construction, especially in peri-urban areas,” says Sangeeta Singh, who is also with the National Planning Commission. “We need to monitor construction as much as design.”&nbsp;
Shrestha at NSET agrees there have been improvements in building practices in the past nine years, but adds, “We have both learnt and unlearnt lessons from 2015. The awareness hasn’t yet translated into action on safety.”
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/lessons-not-learned-from-2015-o2etq6zu">Lessons not learned from 2015</a>, Sonia Awale

The rise of high-rises

Midway along the stretch of the ancient trade route between Tibet and India lies the Kel Tol neighbourhood. The name is derived from the original Koligrām, and it is believed the Koli people, who were originally from Rāmagrām in present-day southern Nepal near the Indian border, settled here. The Koli were the maternal ancestors of none other than the Buddha. Kel Tol is famous for the Buddhist monastic complex of Kanak Chaitya Mahāvihar, featuring the majestic two-tiered gilded temple of the white god Karunāmaya.&nbsp; This elaborately decorated courtyard is a bustling centre of the Vajrayāna sect of Buddhism, practised widely by the indigenous Newā people of Kathmandu Valley. Karunāmaya, also known as Ārya Avalokiteshwor, is defined in great detail in the 1st century CE Buddhist text Sadharmapundarikā where he liberates all sentient beings from suffering. He helps rid the eight external fears metaphorically equated with their equivalent internal states of mind: lions (pride), wild elephants (ignorance), fire (anger), snakes (jealousy), floods (attachment), imprisonment (miserliness), thieves (wrong views) and cannibals (doubt).  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240418130432_fe370cbee75003cd3eb5dccc7c3b2671630da193b0744db2aeac1bab3ff4a85c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20240418130432_fe370cbee75003cd3eb5dccc7c3b2671630da193b0744db2aeac1bab3ff4a85c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1338" height="2000" loading="lazy" alt="Seto Machhindranath"> </figure>  In the Pancha Rakshyā Sutra, a Buddhist scripture from 200 CE, Ārya Avalokiteshwor was counted among the eight major deities. Followers of the Brāhminical god Shiva worship Ārya Avalokiteshwor as Seto Machhindranāth. For Shaivites, Machhindranāth is the Indian saint who founded the Nāth cult in the 10th century CE. He is the guru of saint Gorakhnāth. During the reign of Yakshya Malla (1428–1482 CE), a beautiful image of Ārya Avalokiteshwor was dug up by a farmer in present-day Jamal, which was then a cultivated area outside the city. The farmer, known as a Jamami (meaning the one from Jamal) took the image home for safekeeping. That night, Ārya Avalokiteshwor appeared in the farmer’s dream and told him that the proper place for him to reside is at the confluence of two rivers. The nearest confluence was at present-day Wongha (Indrachok) and the image was installed in the Kanak Chaitya Mahāvihar complex in Kel Tol near Wongha. This made it easier for city residents to pay homage to Ārya Avalokiteshwor and spread compassion. Soon, the deity came to be revered highly as Jamaleshwor, the one found in Jamal. Eventually, the name got corrupted, as happens often in Nepāl Bhāsā, to Janabahā Dyo. The courtyard where his temple is located is now popularly known as Janabahā.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240418130432_5c9b219530e400445ef4e7f64856b43e7cdb756be26d9ed4565c84044c178a7e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20240418130432_5c9b219530e400445ef4e7f64856b43e7cdb756be26d9ed4565c84044c178a7e" data-rendition-name="original" width="2500" height="1668" loading="lazy" alt="Seto Machhindranath"> </figure>  The gilded temple of Janabahā Dyo, first built in the early 16th century CE, is adorned with wooden and metal artefacts that symbolise 108 forms of Ārya Avalokiteshwor. It stands out as the most decorated temple of its kind in Kathmandu. Today, Janabahā is a living heritage site where many ancient customs and rituals are widely practised as per Vajrayāna Buddhist tradition. Devotees throng the Janabahā Dyo shrine for daily worship and to receive Karunāmaya’s blessings. Being the compassionate one, Ārya Avalokiteshwor goes around town every year in his tall wooden chariot to allow sick and physically disabled devotees to pay homage to him from the comfort of their homes. One could say it is a door-to-door visit by the Compassionate One.&nbsp; For the pragmatic minded, the chariot festival is an annual renewal of communal harmony, validation of our ancient mathematical supremacy and demonstration of the need to keep practical skills alive, including the craft of building earthquake resilient houses.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240418130432_fc8b234ceca87dee4b99e897a485cef121fb953857fb61492a413fbfcc48360c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20240418130432_fc8b234ceca87dee4b99e897a485cef121fb953857fb61492a413fbfcc48360c" data-rendition-name="original" width="2500" height="1667" loading="lazy" alt="Seto Machhindranath"> </figure>  The Janabahā Dyo chariot is pulled from Jamal, where his image was found by the farmer, through the historic heart of Kathmandu in a gala parade every year. The procession, accompanied by folk music ensembles and revellers, starts on the eighth day of the bright half of the month of Chaitra, and lasts up to a week (ending on Saturday this year). Hundreds of devotees pull the chariot along the streets as a way of expressing their gratitude to lord Karunāmaya for blessing them with compassion and well-being. Purna Ratna Vajrāchārya is an ordained priest who belongs to the clan responsible for taking care of Janabahā Dyo. He has been studying the design and architecture of the chariot for the past 40 years, and overseeing its construction for the past 15. He has learnt that the engineering principles of building the chariot are based on the mathematical system in which Buddhism is taught. For example, 365 pieces of wood are used in the chariot, each representing a day of the year. Each of the four wheels consist of 25 pieces of wood, totalling 100, representing completeness or fulfilment. The chariot is vertically divided into 13 sections, a parallel to the Buddhist concept of Trayodashi Bhuvana that describes the 13 steps that one must take to achieve the state of Nirvana.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240418130432_36d9964c9845f6d9a074786361fc5ab7d49138503ad162086998b731349b0ec0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20240418130432_36d9964c9845f6d9a074786361fc5ab7d49138503ad162086998b731349b0ec0" data-rendition-name="original" width="2500" height="1668" loading="lazy" alt="Seto Machhindranath"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240418130432_2662753a9514a682ccdfd17bf05e2be3771183a68dc86b717ab67d9aad894563.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20240418130432_2662753a9514a682ccdfd17bf05e2be3771183a68dc86b717ab67d9aad894563" data-rendition-name="original" width="1668" height="2500" loading="lazy" alt="Seto Machhindranath"> </figure>  &nbsp;Exactly nine types of wood are used, which is the sum of the four base elements that make up the universe (earth, water, fire and air) and the five human senses. The height and length of the chariot is 32 arm’s length (hāt in Sanskrit), 14.8m. The number 32 represents the maximum number of auspicious and physical qualities one could possess to be considered an outstanding human being.&nbsp; Says Vajrācharya, “Observing how the chariot is built helps one learn the fundamental pillars of the Buddha’s teachings, and find an easier path to Nirvana.” The structural design of the nearly 15m wooden chariot is not only awe-inspiring but also gravity-defying. It leverages the pliancy of the materials used in its construction -- flexible joints tied with cane soaked in water for several days. The precise proportions of the chariot ensure great manoeuverability in the narrow streets along the route of the chariot procession that include some 90° bends, without colliding into houses.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240418130432_9f5c2943f5d6b3f0010d3d5213697549945e87a6f7d3d8cbadd69f0dea6c6e2c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20240418130432_9f5c2943f5d6b3f0010d3d5213697549945e87a6f7d3d8cbadd69f0dea6c6e2c" data-rendition-name="original" width="2500" height="3750" loading="lazy" alt="Seto Machhindranath"> </figure>  Driving and steering the chariot with brute muscle power of the mirthful crowd is a seemingly impossible task. But this has been achieved year after year, despite the fact that the devotees who tug wildly at the ropes lassoed to the two front wheels, are most likely in high-spirits (pun intended). Sanjay Manandhar, a US-based technology entrepreneur, recounts how his high school physics teacher from Canada asked his students to go observe the locals build the chariots of Karunāmaya if they were interested in becoming engineers in the future.&nbsp; “That made no sense to me then, but, after all these decades, I now see clearly how the structural design of the chariot, adopted early on by our ancestors is full of earthquake-resilient properties that need to be applied in building houses in an earthquake-prone zone like Nepal,” says Manandhar. A highlight of the chariot festival is that human goddess Kumari makes an appearance at the final destination in Lagan, usually on the third day. This is only one of the 13 times that people get to see the Kumari outside her temple abode.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240418130432_08aa39f3f004a212b33c60a2840d6013110de15dd34a0288f699dd5fda8957ab.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20240418130432_08aa39f3f004a212b33c60a2840d6013110de15dd34a0288f699dd5fda8957ab" data-rendition-name="original" width="2500" height="1667" loading="lazy" alt="Seto Machhindranath"> </figure>  On the last day of the festival (Saturday), the image of lord Karunāmaya is carried on a palanquin by priests from Janabahā in a gala procession and brought back to his permanent residence at the temple in Kel Tol.&nbsp; The chariot festival is thought to have started during the reign of King Pratap Malla of Kantipur in the 17th century CE. For close to four centuries, the construction of the chariot and its operation has proven to be a phenomenal engineering feat, and the people’s faith in divinity means the tradition is alive.&nbsp; The essence of the colourful rituals and the religious beliefs of this ancient chariot festival is now all but lost. The logic, technology and practicality must be brought back to light, as they reflect the high civilisation and wisdom of our ancestors that we can leverage in modern times and into the future. &nbsp; Alok Tuladhar is a culture and heritage documentarian.

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