<article>During the decade-long Maoist insurgency, many fled to the cities and India for fear of being recruited. A majority ended up in Kathmandu, some forced to take up sex work to survive. This was also the time of the HIV/AIDS epidemic.Excerpts of the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=3570">report</a> published 20 years ago this week on<a href="http://himalaya.socanth.cam.ac.uk/collections/journals/nepalitimes/pdf/Nepali_Times_190.pdf"> issue #190 2-8 April 2004</a>: An increase in the influx of people from the districts fleeing the conflict, the lack of jobs and poverty have all contributed to a new surge in prostitution in Kathmandu Valley. But two months ago, the police started cracking down, especially along stretches of street around Tundikhel, Khichapokhri and Sundhara. But that just shifted the action indoors: to massage parlors, cabin restaurants and cheap lodges. At a cabin restaurant in Maiti Devi, several girls and women told us that they fled their villages fearing the Maoists who were trying to force them to join military training. “My parents are still in the village, but I took the risk and came to Kathmandu, even though I know no one here,” says 17-year-old Sarita Chettri from Makwanpur.Two of Sarita’s friends also joined her and they all work in the cabin restaurant, which is a front for prostitution. The three don’t get a salary, but the tips are enough to make a living. There hasn’t been a formal study of cabin restaurants in the valley, but one estimate puts the number of girls at up to 30,000. After 7PM, the streets of Gaushala, Baneswor, Maiti Devi, Kalanki, Rato Pul and Chahabil are bright with the glittering lights of restaurants blaring Hindi songs. Inside, the restaurants have wooden cubicles with a girl already inside each of them.Meanwhile, in the tourist hub of Thamel, local residents are worried that massage parlours are fronting as sex shops… It’s not the humiliation, but the threat of HIV infection that is of major concern. Migration, prostitution and unprotected sex are a deadly combination in a valley that is already known for 50 percent HIV infection among injecting drug users. For archived material of Nepali Times of the past 20 years, site search: <a href="http://nepalitimes.com/">nepalitimes.com</a></article>

During the decade-long Maoist insurgency, many fled to the cities and India for fear of being recruited. A majority ended up in Kathmandu, some forced to take up sex work to survive. This was also the time of the HIV/AIDS epidemic.
Excerpts of the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=3570">report</a> published 20 years ago this week on<a href="http://himalaya.socanth.cam.ac.uk/collections/journals/nepalitimes/pdf/Nepali_Times_190.pdf"> issue #190 2-8 April 2004</a>: 
 
An increase in the influx of people from the districts fleeing the conflict, the lack of jobs and poverty have all contributed to a new surge in prostitution in Kathmandu Valley. But two months ago, the police started cracking down, especially along stretches of street around Tundikhel, Khichapokhri and Sundhara. But that just shifted the action indoors: to massage parlors, cabin restaurants and cheap lodges. 
 
At a cabin restaurant in Maiti Devi, several girls and women told us that they fled their villages fearing the Maoists who were trying to force them to join military training. “My parents are still in the village, but I took the risk and came to Kathmandu, even though I know no one here,” says 17-year-old Sarita Chettri from Makwanpur.
Two of Sarita’s friends also joined her and they all work in the cabin restaurant, which is a front for prostitution. The three don’t get a salary, but the tips are enough to make a living.&nbsp;
There hasn’t been a formal study of cabin restaurants in the valley, but one estimate puts the number of girls at up to 30,000. After 7PM, the streets of Gaushala, Baneswor, Maiti Devi, Kalanki, Rato Pul and Chahabil are bright with the glittering lights of restaurants blaring Hindi songs. Inside, the restaurants have wooden cubicles with a girl already inside each of them.
Meanwhile, in the tourist hub of Thamel, local residents are worried that massage parlours are fronting as sex shops… It’s not the humiliation, but the threat of HIV infection that is of major concern. Migration, prostitution and unprotected sex are a deadly combination in a valley that is already known for 50 percent HIV infection among injecting drug users. 
 
For archived material of Nepali Times of the past 20 years, site search: <a href="http://nepalitimes.com/" target="_blank">nepalitimes.com</a>

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20 Years Ago This Week

Selling Sex

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

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?

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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