‘Tamar river in Tom’s book, is it the same as Tamor River?’ I texted my editor. ‘Yes, the Limbu pronounce it Tamar,’ he wrote back. ‘You have a lot of catching up to do!’ And I did. The fact revealed itself to me even more as I buried my nose in Thomas Bell’s new book, Human Nature. The book takes the reader on a journey as the narrative spans across four different regions in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-mountains-are-melting">Nepal’s mountains</a> that Bell covered in 2016-2018.&nbsp; The years are not directly mentioned in the narrative, but marked by relating them to major events such as the earthquake and indicated vaguely as ‘two months later, in the monsoon’. The first chapter, Migration, takes the readers though Panchthar-Solu in eastern Nepal. The second walk is a chapter called Agriculture, which covers Chautara to Gorkha or the central hills. The third, Architecture, is all the way to upper Dolpo. The last chapter, Conservation, cuts across Jumla to Rara Lake. As a teenager, the first I saw of Nepal’s hills was the east, so the book immediately had me. It also took me back to my own travels to Dolpo and Jumla, constantly revealing everything I had not noticed during my own travels, fetching me names of places, laying before me a new map of Nepal. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/natures-fragile-gift-to-nepal">Nature's fragile gift to Nepal,</a> Ajay Narsingh Rana In the first chapter, we come across Bell’s companion Rajendra, who becomes a conduit to exploring the complexity of Nepal, including the obsession with casteness. The travesty of small talk in Nepali conversations is never lost even as the author records intriguing ideas connected to indigenous knowledge, myth, folklore, rivers, history, anthropology, science, literature, and art. The book also takes heavily from research, evoking Shanker Lamichhane’s literature to Rousseau’s walks. The walks and the research proceeded ‘hand in hand’.&nbsp; “I’d do a bit of reading, then a walk or two, then a load more reading and writing, and so on,” says Bell. “There was a year between the first two walks and the last two, during which I spent a lot of time reading up and made an early draft of part 1.” Little incidents that occur along the way help build a narrative. In some instances, we experience harsh Nepal truths. Near Salpa, a boy beats a snake to death, saying “it bites”. There are conversations about death and hardships with people along the trail, spoken about as though they were the same thing as ‘someone making you wait till the morning’. It broaches on Nepali stoicism or maybe bravado. The narrative is replete not just with people's stories, but the stories they tell and those that have been passed down. The story of Miyapma launches one into a world of myth and fantasy. There are stories lost to us, like that of Tunilu who learned the trick of dying from a lizard.&nbsp; Then the stories of Nidhini the siren and the Banjhankri. The same stories get told in many communities across the world in different ways, converging stories that represent human nature. Humans create stories so life can make sense. The writing is fast paced because of its mostly journalistic style. The quotes bear the tone of individual speakers, something only good journalists can do. The narrative is frank and honest, alternating between serious scholarship and banter. The mood often slips from profound to jocular. For instance: “नुन खुर्सानी पिरो, खाने मान्छे हिरो,” rhymes a jhankri shaman in the fourth chapter. “The first job for a book like this is giving pleasure and entertainment. People should read it for fun,” Bell tells us. And he makes a serious read, a fun one with anecdotes, hand-drawn maps, photographs, a glossary of 30 words on landscape. The book is an<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/60-years-after-1954-devastating-flood-same-failings-of-government-today-post-quake,2433"> environmental history of Nepal</a>. It details the conquest of Prithvi Narayan Shah, explaining how it hinged on establishing an agriculture system that thrived on rice-plantation, which in turn allowed him to create a land-military system and introduce taxation. There are stories about Prithvi Narayan that get told with some discrepancy as they rove across the mountains, the destiny of all oral history. “I hope the book provides an accessible and attractive telling of some aspects of Nepali history for readers who might not know about all of these things, or who hadn’t thought about them in this way before,” Bell says. About Dolpa, Bell goes into the intricacies of its trans-Himalayan architecture. There are lengthy, art review-like sections on<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/sacred-survival"> thangkas</a>, where he delves into the history of the sacred style, its relation with the community the work takes inspiration from, and how the visualisation of it continues to impact the people.&nbsp; Art is often woven into religious myths, such as the saga of the heroic Milarepa, where we stumble upon philosophy: ‘This body, so hard to obtain and easily broken…’ Also a reminder that we are each a leader with our own set of disciples. Each of us, our own Milarepa. The fourth section is the strongest in rhetoric as it takes on <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/is-trophy-hunting-okay-to-earn-revenue-for-conservation,2591">Nepal’s conservation history</a>. Like in Tom Bell’s first book, Kathmandu, there is sharp, forthright criticism of the system. The chapter points at the flawed conservation approach that has hurt indigenous science and peoples.&nbsp; While there is the seriousness of a heavy topic, the narrative also bears occasional eccentricities, such as: the old man in Jumla has dogs, cats, fleas, hens, rabbits, goats and bees. “I hope that the book has enough layers that different readers find different things in there that interest and entertain them,” Bell says. Me, I came away with history. Told. Forgotten. &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241220171240_52e9bef3b714fbfdfac2dfe9adab3a2df897c0a03ff8c71d5a6829902e0ddada.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20241220171240_52e9bef3b714fbfdfac2dfe9adab3a2df897c0a03ff8c71d5a6829902e0ddada" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Human nature book details"> </figure>  &nbsp;

Pratibha Tuladhar

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Here & Now

The nature of Nepal

Finding Route 1307 in Nan Province, northern Thailand, bordering Laos, is not an easy task. Even Nan native drivers have a hard time in the isolated mountains without any landmarks or road signs.&nbsp; Nestled on the slopes of the 1500 m Phu Phayak mountain, 4km from the Laos border, Ban Nam Ree Phatthana is perhaps the deepest mountain village in Thailand. Phu Phayak, which means ‘a large mountain teeming with tigers’, has long been the home of the Lua and Hmong who came from Laos.&nbsp; These hill tribes, who suffered all kinds of discrimination and persecution, provided the impetus for the armed struggle of the communist in northern Thailand. And Ban Nam Ree Phatthana was the 708th headquarter of the Communist Party of Thailand in the 1970s, the heart of the northern fighting. Ban Nam Ree Phatthana, with a population of 600 and 100 households, traditionally grew poppies on the hillsides. But since the ‘Phu Phayak Royal Project’ was launched in 2003, the villagers have been producing organic vegetables and fruits. The Project was promoted by the Department of Public Relation in accordance with HM King Bhumibol’s Philosophy of sufficiency economy to develop alternative crops.&nbsp; And the Tourism Authority has been promoting Phu Phayak as an eco-tourism with the slogan “Wandering Phu Phayak, eating organic vegetables, tasting aromatic coffee and climbing to the top of mountains. However, there are no visitors and only flies are flying around in reality.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241221021248_7fd5248bbbe7405fe1d5ffab691d8b0ed5029ee36ba96c40bd9ab3e455572eed.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20241221021248_7fd5248bbbe7405fe1d5ffab691d8b0ed5029ee36ba96c40bd9ab3e455572eed" data-rendition-name="original" width="720" height="478" loading="lazy" alt="Ban Nam Ree Pathana"> <figcaption>Opening ceremony-Phu Phayak memorial hall.</figcaption> </figure>  Pham Serao, a former communist says: “We appreciate the royal project but we need road development more than anything. There will never be a tourist who will come all the way to the dead-end border valley along this messy road just to eat organic vegetables.” Although the ideological struggle has now turned into a struggle for survival, the people of Ban Nam Ree Phatthana still live with their own pride in having once been a communist guerrilla. “Now the world has changed and the armed struggle is over, but we never regret the fighting we have had for the people and society in the past. And we will never forget the times we spent with our leader Sahai(comrade) Too Khamtan.” Like Pham Serao, old warriors open their hearts even to strange visitors without any hesitation.” Here, Thai historical figures appear. Sahai Too Khamtan refers to Phayom Chulanont, former commander of the Thai People’s Liberation Army, the armed wing of the CPT. Phayom Chulanont is the father of Gen.Surayud Chulanont, who served as Supreme Commander and Prime Minister of Thailand.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241221021248_62796886234ca7e3647243fc63d53b7b1339463c6dd9176788da15f5980b2fbd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20241221021248_62796886234ca7e3647243fc63d53b7b1339463c6dd9176788da15f5980b2fbd" data-rendition-name="original" width="256" height="386" loading="lazy" alt="Ban Nam Ree Pathana"> <figcaption>Phayom Chulanont</figcaption> </figure>  Lt.Col. Phayom Chulanont joined the coup led by Gen.Plaek Pibulsonggram in 1947 to overthrow Prime Minister Thawan Thamrongnawasawat, but after political differences, he staged his own coup two years later in 1949. The so-called ‘Army Staff School Coup’ ended in failure. Payom soon went into exile in China. In 1957, he returned to his hometown of Phetchabun and entered politics as a member of the House of Representatives. However, when Gen. Sarit Thanarat staged another coup that year to overthrow the Plaek government, Payom joined the CPT and became the commander of the People’s Liberation Army. Since then, Payom, who was called ‘Sahai Too Khamtan’, is known to have led the armed struggle, returned toChina in 1978 for treatment of a chronic illness, and died in the early 1980s. From the beginning, the Communist Party of Thailand hid its organization so thoroughly that even its members did not know who the real leader was, so not only Payom’s death but also his role is still controversial. Phayom left no records or trace. Sahai Too Khamtan remains only in the memories of his comrades.&nbsp; “No matter what anyone says, our leader is Sahai Too Khamtan. We went to the frontline with him and followed his orders. He was a man whose words and actions were always consistent, and treated everyone without discrimination. Sahai Too Khamtan is the one who made me proud to be a communist.” Phi Tak Pisatchan, who followed Payom on the Nan front for four years, expressed deep respect. According to the old guerrillas, it is certain that Payom led the armed struggle as the commander of the Thai People’s Liberation Army, as has been known. However, nothing has been revealed about Payom’s political role within the CPT other than the fact that he was a member of the Central Committee.&nbsp; It is possible to infer that Payom played an important political role through a document from the Democratic Kampuchea (Khmer Rouge) government in 1976 that records him as ‘secretary-general of the Thai Communist Party, Khamtan’.&nbsp; It is not official but it is known that within the CPT, Charoen Wan-Ngam served as secretary-general from the 1960s until his death in 1979. After that, Udom Srisuwan succeeded him as secretary-general.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241221021248_26eacdec4af27e76828b6059d5fd0705046fabbdc2fb3a2ac5d4f756d894c82a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20241221021248_26eacdec4af27e76828b6059d5fd0705046fabbdc2fb3a2ac5d4f756d894c82a" data-rendition-name="original" width="4254" height="2760" loading="lazy" alt="Ban Nam Ree Pathana"> <figcaption>Phu Phayak memorial hall, Ban Nam Ri.</figcaption> </figure>  At this point, it is worth seeing Payom’s son, Gen Surayud Chulanont. He was born into a military family. Surayud’s maternal grandfather was Gen. Si Sitthisongkhram, who served as the commander of the Army Operations Command. His father was Payom, who served as a lieutenant colonel in the Thai Army and then as the commander of the Thai People’s Liberation Army of the CPT.&nbsp; He himself served as Supreme Commander of the Royal Thai Armed Force, Prime Minister and then President of the Privy Council now. Also his son Non Chulanon is taking the military path, passing down the military lineage to the fourth generation. However, Surayut’s memories of his father Payom seem to be few. When Payom went into exile in China after the failed coup in 1949, Surayut was only six years old. Then eight years later, in 1957, Payom returned to Thailand, but he said goodbye to his family again when he joined the CPT that year. After that, Surayut graduated from the Chulachomklao Royal Military Academy, the military’s most elite course. As soon as he was commissioned as a second lieutenant in 1965 when the CPT started the armed struggle, he was sent to the Northern Anti-Communist Front. The cinematic imagination of a father and son pointing guns at each other has become a situation that can happen in reality. But they had never met on the frontline and such a serious affair did not happen.&nbsp; Nevertheless, Suryaut’s experience of having to show loyalty by pointing a gun at his father was not only a personal affliction but also a social tragedy. Through this tragic story of father and son, we can see one of the great strengths of Thai society.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241221021248_d0b74320b05fba1cca59fac9a42f6baa9e6556ecc08023cbe9a60637cdd7dc12.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20241221021248_d0b74320b05fba1cca59fac9a42f6baa9e6556ecc08023cbe9a60637cdd7dc12" data-rendition-name="original" width="3648" height="5472" loading="lazy" alt="Ban Nam Ree Pathana"> <figcaption>Phu Phayak memorial hall, Ban Nam Ri.</figcaption> </figure>  So, the son of a commander of communist party entered the highest royal military academy. Even though the Cold War is over, this is a story that certainly symbolises the inclusiveness of Thai society. That very symbol stands tall on the ridge of Ban Nam Ree Phatthana. It is called the Phu Phayak Memorial which opened in December 2005. Perhaps, those who visit this place will feel a little bored because there are only photos of maps, poems and history of the CPT on the wall without a single gun or uniform. However, it is an important place in the lives of the villagers.&nbsp; Every year on December 1, the founding anniversary of the Communist Party of Thailand, old guerrillas gather at the Phu Phayak Memorial to pay tribute to the leader and those who died on the front line. As Pham Serao said, it is a place where souls are gathered and commemorate the fallen comrades. The leader here is, of course, the commander of the Thai People’s Liberation Army, Payom, who is enshrined on the altar in the middle of the memorial hall. “As a son, I am proud of my father and mother who gave birth to me. At least my father fought according to his beliefs. To me, my father is a hero. He taught me to be a good soldier and a good citizen,” recounts Gen Surayut of his father. No one knows what his intentions are and society and history will judge whether he is a good soldier or a good citizen. The same goes for Surayut’s life and that of his father, Payom.

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Ban Nam Ree Pathana

The Golden Triangle, where the Mekong River divides the borders of Thailand, Burma, and Laos, was once the world’s largest drug producing area and is still a romantic destination for tourists. The term Golden Triangle originally came from a nickname that Burmese drug warlords used to exchange opium for gold in Tachilek, Burmese border town with Thailand in the 1950s.&nbsp; Then, the Golden Triangle became the official name when US Under Secretary of State Marshall Green first used it at a drug-related press conference in 1971. Since then, the Golden Triangle has been used as a term to refer to the poppy-growing region encompassing Chiang Rai Province in Thailand, Shan State in Burma, and northern Laos. Nowadays, some researchers extend the Golden Triangle to include the entire northern part of Thailand, Yunnan Province in southern China, northern Laos, and northern Vietnam for huge drug zone spanning 950,000㎢. Because of its name, many tourists come to the Golden Triangle imagining it as a place overflowing with drugs and filled with poppies. However, there is no trace of drugs or poppies nowadays due to the Thai government’s anti-drug policy, except the ‘Opium Museum’ in Ban Sop Ruak, just on the Thai side of the Mekong River basin.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241220161252_c260136fb4d158a54e306b9cedf63f8825e2edab20bc59e3eaec673be08f239d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20241220161252_c260136fb4d158a54e306b9cedf63f8825e2edab20bc59e3eaec673be08f239d" data-rendition-name="original" width="696" height="392" loading="lazy" alt="The Golden Triangle "> <figcaption>Anti-drug campaign</figcaption> </figure>  The Golden Triangle Viewpoint is right in front of this Sop Ruak village, where the mighty Mekong River flows. The 300m-long riverbank road lined with a large Buddha sitting on a treasure ship, souvenir shops, restaurants, and hotels is where many tourists gather to take selfies. However, tourists will encounter an unexpectedly awkward landscape at the Golden Triangle viewpoint which is a rare place where they can see three countries from one point. To the north of Burma, there is a casino that resembles a military fortress, and to the east of Laos, there are some buildings under a large sign that says ‘Golden Triangle Special Economic Zone’, run by the Chinese capitals.&nbsp; For discerning tourists, the incongruity between capital and nature in a remote border area can be disappointing. But, there is no need to give up in advance. Tourists can relax at the ancient city of Chiang Saen, located 10km south of the Golden Triangle on the banks of the Mekong River. This ancient city, founded in 545 by the Tai monarch Singha Nuwat from Yunnan, China, disappeared into the back alleys of history after being conquered by the Lanna Kingdom(1292-1775), which ruled northern Thailand in the 13th century.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241220161252_513ec96f360ac1196a8edaa1eb2435842f298df27cc27833773227865769f6ba.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20241220161252_513ec96f360ac1196a8edaa1eb2435842f298df27cc27833773227865769f6ba" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="The Golden Triangle "> <figcaption>Wat Pasak, Chiang Saen</figcaption> </figure>  Anyone can feel the traces of ancient history walking along the ruined walls. Wat Pa Sak, ruins of a Buddhist temple situated outside the city walls with an impressive, well-preserved Chedi with a square base in the Mon style. Wat Phra That Chedi Luang, ruins of Chiang Saen&amp;#39;s main temple. Chiang Saen National Museum with an important collection of Chiang Saen style Buddha statues and many more. The coffee shop on the bank of the Mekong River is also a sacred place that cannot be missed. If you sit down at the riverside coffee shop, you will be able to enjoy the time flowing slowly along the Mekong River. It is a place where only travelers can experience the leisure romance. Next, you will be greeted by bizarre views of Laos across the river. Beyond the small island of Don Sao, you will see a very unrealistic building with a large crown on the head called the Kings Romans Casino. It is one of the main businesses of Kings Romans International, which acquired 102 square km of land in the Golden Triangle Special Economic Zone for 99 years with a $3 billion investment.&nbsp; This Hong Kong-based company has built a ‘Chinese Empire’ in the Golden Triangle. All the businesses, including casinos, hotels, bars, and restaurants, are run by Chinese. Even Chinese police cars drive around on the streets. Meanwhile, the King’s Romance Casino became notorious for drug trafficking, prostitution, human trafficking, and even selling tiger and bear dishes, eventually earning it the nickname of ’Crime City’.&nbsp; The US Treasury Department and the DEA placed it on financial sanctions for child prostitution, drug trafficking, and wildlife trafficking. The Kings Romans area is called Ban Kwan where the hidden history of the Golden Triangle lies. This is where the Battle of Ban Kwan took place, the fiercest battle of the ‘1967 Opium War’.&nbsp; Tourists can freely cross the river to Ban Kwan nowadays, but there is no trace of the history left. After Kings Romans came and destroyed the entire area of Ban Kwan to build roads, hotels and casinos. Although traces cannot be found, history cannot be buried. The ‘1967 Opium War’ in northwestern Laos between February and August 1967.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241220161252_2c5d938d6d0728233e60eb27b4b0616195a1f607d156c6a28e53b9da73fa5d2d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20241220161252_2c5d938d6d0728233e60eb27b4b0616195a1f607d156c6a28e53b9da73fa5d2d" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="The Golden Triangle "> <figcaption>Kings Roman Casino</figcaption> </figure>  The actual fighting took place in Ban Kwan. A mule train, led by Khun Sa, carrying 16 tons of opium crossed into Ban Kwan, where they were attacked by rival drug smugglers from the 3rd and 5th Armies of the Kuomintang’s remnants, Chinese nationalist. In June 1967, Khun Sa sent 16 tons of opium on 300 mules led by 800 armed convoys to Ban Kwan, 320km from Shan State of Burma.&nbsp; The opium, worth $500,000 at the time, is equivalent to $5 million today. For Khun Sa, that was an ambitious deal, enough to buy 1,000 carbines and turn his 2,000-strong army into 3,000 to stand up to the 3,200-strong remnants of the Kuomintang. The person who ordered the opium was Maj.Gen. Ouane Rattikone, the Laotian Army Chief of Staff who had a drug refinery in Ban Kwan. Khun Sa’s convoy safely arrived in Ban Kwan on July 17. However, on July 24, the joint forces of the 3rd and 5th Armies of the Kuomintang sent 1,000 troops to Ban Kwan and attacked Khun Sa’s convoy. That day, Gen. Ouane Rattikone issued an ultimatum to the remnants of the Kuomintang and Khun Sa’s convoy to leave Laos. However, the two factions ignored the warning and fought fiercely for five days.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241220161252_3adbf695b0109ceed86e1654c1a51c56c424b4a9b16d408759256e43cdd5c4ec.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20241220161252_3adbf695b0109ceed86e1654c1a51c56c424b4a9b16d408759256e43cdd5c4ec" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="836" loading="lazy" alt="The Golden Triangle "> <figcaption>Khun Sa's army</figcaption> </figure>  Then Gen Ouane Rattikone launched six Air Force T28 fighter jets to indiscriminately bomb Ban Kwan, and then deployed the 2nd Airborne Battalion to the south of Ban Kwan, two infantry battalions to the north, and two marine ships to attack the two factions. The Laotian army, remnants of Kuomintang, and Khun Sa’s army fought a three-way battle in tiny Ban Kwan.&nbsp; Finally, the drug convoy of Khun Sa, betrayed by Gen.Ouane Rattikone, escaped across the Mekong River to Burma, leaving behind 82 dead and the opium. The remnants of the Kumintang, who suffered 70 dead, paid Gen Ouane Rattikone $7,500 in compensation and retreated across the Mekong River to Sop Ruak. Then returned to Doi Mae Salong, the headquarters of the 5th Army, with the help of the Thai military. Then Gen Ouane Rattikone transported the opium left by Khun Sa to Houay Xai, where his drug refinery was located. The ultimate winner of the Battle of Ban Kwan was Gen Ouane Rattikone. He had been running a drug business with the help of the CIA, was awarded the highest national medal as a hero for defending the territory, and he also amassed enormous wealth from the opium he had taken from Khun Sa. Meanwhile, Khun Sa had suffered great financial and military damage, and was arrested by the Burmese government in 1969 while negotiating with the Shan State rebels in an attempt to restore his power. Then, after being released in 1973, Khun Sa organized the Shan United Army (SUA) and resumed his influence in the international drug market. Opposite, the remnants of the Kuomintang, with the help of the CIA, seized 90% of the drug routes in the Golden Triangle that Khun Sa had been holding back.&nbsp; As the remnants of the Kuomintang and Khun Sa ran wild, opium production in the Golden Triangle, which had been no more than 60 tons per year before World War II, exceeded 1,000 tons in the mid-1970s. The drug war in the Golden Triangle is not a story of the past. The drug war in the Golden Triangle is not over yet. Although the world’s largest opium production site was given to Afghanistan in the 2000s, the Golden Triangle is still alive and well as a production base for drugs including heroin and methamphetamine&nbsp; The Golden Triangle, which includes Burma, Laos, and Thailand, produces about 800 tons of opium, which can make 80 tons of heroin, every year. The value is 17 billion dollars. The Golden Triangle accounts for half of the 30-40 billion dollars that international drug cartels make annually.

The Golden Triangle

On the map of Thailand, there is a place that points to Shan State in Burma with a finger at the very northeastern end. It is Ban Hin Taek (The Village of Broken Stone), 28km east of Doi Mae Salong. In 1982, the Thai government renamed it to Ban Thoet Thai (Village to Honour Thai) in an attempt to erase the village’s drug-tainted reputation, but still the old one is better known among the people. Ban Hin Taek, 3km from the Burmese border, is surrounded by mountains 1000~2000m high scarred by slash-and-burn agriculture.&nbsp; But it is not a small village and no different from any other lowland Thai villages at first glance. Modern hospitals, tennis courts, ATM machines, 7-Eleven and WiFi have been added everywhere around. Its prosperity is influenced by the agricultural trade, but also because of the drug trade, although the Thai government has been making great efforts to combat the trade. Originally Ban Hin Taek was founded by the Akha hill tribe who came down from Burma in 1903, but over the years it has become a multi-ethnic village. Among the 4,000 residents in Ban Hin Taek, Akha is still the majority with 40% but Lahu, Lisu, Yao, Shan and Yunnanese live together.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241220161248_e38b69f1cacdcd5e3b4b63c4b5beda079d5c6376ef49f03e13f2736dc3aeaf96.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20241220161248_e38b69f1cacdcd5e3b4b63c4b5beda079d5c6376ef49f03e13f2736dc3aeaf96" data-rendition-name="original" width="5472" height="3648" loading="lazy" alt="The Legacy of the Lost Army"> <figcaption>Han-Ban Hin Taek-Khun Sa Museum, former Khun Sa's HQ.</figcaption> </figure>  As the Akha leader Teichin said, the Akha colour is now fading away in the village. Full of colorful traditional costumes that once dazzled visitors have become a story of the past. Unless a very discerning tourist, it would be difficult to find the ‘multi-racial, multi-cultural tourism’ slogan emphasized by the government. Instead, what tourists can see in Ban Hin Taek are numerous ‘Houses of God’. A Catholic cathedral, a Christian church and a mosque stand in the middle of the village, and Thai-style, Yunnan-style as well as Shan-style Buddhist temples surround them. If these various religions are symbols of multiculturalism. But how many people would come all the way to this deep mountain valley, where even transportation is difficult, just to see this religious symbol made of concrete? “It’s just tourism as a slogan, only about 1,000 people visit our village a year,” Teichin said disappointingly. However, you don’t have to be discouraged in advance if you recall the famous saying “You see as much as you know.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241220161248_4541686282de4138805887d4aec9dc33b5b3dac1414700ef69a99032f5ddffac.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20241220161248_4541686282de4138805887d4aec9dc33b5b3dac1414700ef69a99032f5ddffac" data-rendition-name="original" width="2961" height="2360" loading="lazy" alt="The Legacy of the Lost Army"> <figcaption>Khun Sa</figcaption> </figure>  Ban Hin Taek was the heart of the so-called Golden Triangle, which bordered Burma, Thailand, and Laos and produced over 1,000 tons of opium annually in the 1970s. The person who controlled the drug production and route was Khun Sa, known as the ‘Opium King’. He established the headquarters of the Shan United Army, SUA here. The notorious drug lord died long ago. but he still lives in the hearts of the village people. “Khun Sa was a very warm person. He gave money to the poor and built hospitals and schools…we can’t forget him,” says native Ki, who has lived his entire life as a farmer. In fact, Khun Sa’s traces can be found everywhere in Ban Hin Taek. The Tatong Middle and High Schools where nearly 1,000 students study, the modern Mae Fah Luang Hospital, and the roads leading to each village are all legacies left by Khun Sa. No matter what the world says, the people of Ban Hin Taek have always revered Khun Sa as their great benefactor, calling him ‘father’, ‘uncle’ or ‘commander’. “The older people say that back then, there was no trace of opium in Ban Hin Taek, and Khun Sa strictly punished people so that they could not even touch opium,” says village chief Tai Chin. The Thai government has long banned poppy cultivation and has been working hard to eradicate drugs, and there are no poppy plantations today.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241220161248_c111b144c8cb1a5271a88f04e83cd5c249fbfa2ef00b35d86e9974a6e2a9d87b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20241220161248_c111b144c8cb1a5271a88f04e83cd5c249fbfa2ef00b35d86e9974a6e2a9d87b" data-rendition-name="original" width="5313" height="3368" loading="lazy" alt="The Legacy of the Lost Army"> <figcaption>Han-Ban Hin Taek-Khun Sa Museu, former Khun Sa's HQ.</figcaption> </figure>  ‘Opium King’ or ‘National Liberation Leader’, there are few figures as controversial as Khun Sa, who has two incompatible nicknames. Khun Sa was born in 1934 in Mongyai, Shan State, Burma. The son of a Chinese father and a Shan mother, Khun Sa, also known as Zhang Qifu, was originally a warlord who led the Ka Kwe Ye, KKY in Loimau, Shan State.&nbsp; KKY was a militia organisation that Gen. Ne Win, who seized power in a coup in 1962, allowed local warlords to arm themselves and act as self-defense forces to fight against the Burmese Communist Party and Shan State rebels. In return, the Burmese military government turned a blind eye to KKY’s opium trafficking. However, when KKY became more obsessed with the opium business than with local defense, the military government imprisoned Khun Sa in 1969 and branded KKY an illegal organization in 1973. Burmese government released Khun Sa in 1973 in exchange for a Russian doctor kidnapped by his subordinates, and he came to Ban Hin Taek with his family in 1976.&nbsp; From then on, Khun Sa transformed from KKY to the leader of the Shan United Army, who called for Shan independence, and appeared on the Burmese-Thai border stage. With 20,000 troops in his arsenal, Khun Sa fought a war for drug supremacy with the remnants of Chiang Kai-shek's Kuomintang who had been chased by the Chinese People’s Liberation Army and crossed the Burmese border, and explosively expanded the international drug market.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241220161248_ddb1a9b626c30413ec620584fbcc7079b4bc42806f721f90164db1bc801edc9c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20241220161248_ddb1a9b626c30413ec620584fbcc7079b4bc42806f721f90164db1bc801edc9c" data-rendition-name="original" width="681" height="419" loading="lazy" alt="The Legacy of the Lost Army"> <figcaption>Mong Tai Army</figcaption> </figure>  Before World War II, Indochina’s annual opium production was only 60 tons, but by the mid-1970s, it had surpassed 1,000 tons. At that time, 40% of the opium produced in Burma and 70% of the drugs flowing into the United States passed through Khun Sa’s operations. In 1975, when the Vietnam War ended, the US government, led by the CIA and the DEA designated Khun Sa as the number one wanted enemy. Thus, Ban Hin Taek became the target for strikes. In 1980, under pressure from the US government, Thai Prime Minister Gen Prem Tinsulanonda raised the flag of drug eradication.&nbsp; Finally, the Thai army attacked this mountainous border village Ban Hin Taek with tanks and fighter jets in 1982. After several days of fierce resistance, Khun Sa led the Shan United Army crossed the Burmese border. Since then Khun Sa set up the headquarters of the Shan United Army and a heroin factory in Ho Mong, Shan State, Burma, bordering Thailand. In 1985, he founded the Mong Tai Army by bringing in the Shan United Revolutionary Army, a regional warlord alliance. Having grown in power in Ho Mong, Khun Sa dominated the international drug market until he surrendered to the Burmese military government in 1996.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241220161248_f3a6c57f9c4a91ec96ff726e50ef154275f990d78350adde62b11506682a5d92.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20241220161248_f3a6c57f9c4a91ec96ff726e50ef154275f990d78350adde62b11506682a5d92" data-rendition-name="original" width="3648" height="5472" loading="lazy" alt="The Legacy of the Lost Army"> <figcaption>Han-Ban Hin Taek-Khun Sa Museum, former Khun Sa's HQ.</figcaption> </figure>  Despite pressure from the international community, including the United States, the Burmese military government never indicted Khun Sa and he died in Rangoon in 2007. On November 7th of that year, the Ban Hin Taek people held an enormous memorial service for Khun Sa. They then named Khun Sa’s old headquarter, located in a mountain foot behind the central market, the ‘Khun Sa Museum’ as a tourist attraction. A statue of Khun Sa on horseback was erected on the site of the old parade ground, and on one side of the barracks, all kinds of photos and materials commemorating Khun Sa’s struggle for Shan State independence were hung. To be sure, there was not a single word about opium or drugs. And Khun Sa sat as a wax doll in a dark and eerie old office.&nbsp; “Khun Sa fought for Shan State independence. When Khun Sa was here, it wasn’t as hard to make a living as it is now. We all respect Khun Sa,” says Tai Chin. The life of Khun Sa is still connected to the reality of the Burma-Thailand border. For instance, the United Wa State Army which emerged as the world’s largest drug warlord after Khun Sa, is calling for Wa independence against the Burmese government. Drugs that use ‘national liberation’ as their brand are rolling around the Burma-Thailand border even today.&nbsp; Just as the remnants of the Kuomintang used ‘anti-communism’ as their brand of drugs. This is the political economy of drugs. Ban Hin Taek, a remote mountain village, was once the heart of the drug front disguised as the national liberation front.

The Legacy of the Lost Army

‘Do you want people to have access to telephony or do you want to fight corruption? If you want to fight corruption, these people will be completely cut off from information highway for the rest of their lives, okay, full stop. Make up your mind.’ British businessman and self-proclaimed ‘thought leader’ Mohamed Amersi sits across from The Guardian journalist Tom Burgis at his lawyer’s offices in London as he makes this matter-of-fact statement.&nbsp; Amersi was referring to the dealings of Nepali businessman and fixer<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=776#google_vignette"> Ajeya Sumargi</a>, one of the many subjects of his 2024 book Cuckooland: Where the Rich Own the Truth. This is Burgis’ third book, and he weaves a fast-paced tale with investigative reporting to chart the deal-making career of Amersi in the global telecommunication industry. The investigation traces Amersi’s backroom deals with associates of Russian president Vladimir Putin to Gulnara Karimova, the daughter of an Uzbek dictator. Inevitably, Burgis follows the trail to Nepal where a former Maoist commander turned prime minister wants to strike a deal with Lars Nyberg of the Swedish-Finnish firm TeliaSonera to break into the emerging market. Burgis' account of Amersi’s dealings in Nepal begins with the<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/if-birendra-was-alive-nepal-could-still-be-a-monarchy"> royal massacre</a> in 2001 and Gyanendra’s ascension to power. The new king stages a coup in 2005 and reimposes absolute monarchy, and on this new stage enters Ajeya Sumargi.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-richest-man-in-the-pandora-papers">Nepal’s richest man in the Pandora Papers&nbsp;</a> Sumargi starts out a smalltime businessman in Hetauda but soon climbs into the circle of movers and shakers in Kathmandu. He is self-made and has made a vocation out of knowing the right people in right places.&nbsp; And the right person to know in Nepal’s new political landscape was Gyanendra’s son-in-law, for whom Sumargi becomes a fixer, ensuring he becomes indispensable. Eventually this leads into his foray into telecoms just as mobile telephony was making inroads in Nepal. But Nepalis are sick of the conflict that had claimed 17,000 lives and of an authoritarian king. A people’s movement in April 2006 <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/lost-decade-of-post-conflict-transition,2139">forced Gyanendra out</a>, and the Maoists were subsequently elected to a Constituent Assembly.&nbsp; By then Sumargi had switched sides and sidled up to Prime Minister Pushpa Kamal Dahal (aka Prachanda, the Fierce One) Both are pictured, above. He is soon cleaning up illicit funds the Maoists allegedly purloined from stipends meant for former guerrillas in UN-supervised demobilisation camps.&nbsp; Sumargi arranges luxury lodgings in Lazimpat for Dahal in a house purchased in the name of his sister-in-law. Sumargi’s proximity to power earns him a license for Hello Nepal.&nbsp; Enter: TeliaSonera, which at the time also owns and operates Kcell in Kazakhstan and Ucell in Uzbekistan, and Ncell which it acquired in 2008 in Nepal. At a meeting with TeliaSonera boss Lars Nyberg, Prime Minister Dahal suggests purchasing Hello Nepal to make the pesky issue of license renewal go away. Sumargi opens the doors. Telia Sonera opens its wallet. And Sumargi, says the book, coolly pockets $74 million from TeliaSonera’s acquisition of Hello Nepal. He greases the right palms, makes TeliaSonera’s problems go away, and prepares to become an additional $200 million richer.&nbsp; TeliaSonera’s operations in Uzbekistan unravelled after Swedish investigators found it had negotiated with the Uzbek president’s daughter Karimova to obtain licenses and frequencies in return for millions in bribes. Nyberg resigned, and the new management debated whether to pull out of Nepal too.&nbsp; Amersi is unhappy, Sumargi is livid and threatens to sue. Burgis writes that in the end ‘friendship prevails’-- Sumargi is compensated and TeliaSonera’s new directors bury the findings of the investigation into their Nepal operation. After the scandal, TeliaSonera rebranded itself as Telia and divested from Ncell, selling its majority stake to Malaysian conglomerate Axiata for $1.36 billion in 2016.&nbsp; Was Sumargi able to channel the ill-gotten wealth of Maoist leaders through his dealings with Amersi and Co, and if so, how much? Burgis is not able to tell: ‘Whether any of the riches Mohamed Amersi helped to guide towards Sumargi were shared with the Fierce One and the other Maoist leaders, I cannot definitively say.’ In any case, Sumargi offloaded the millions he made from the TeliaSonera deal to his offshore accounts, adding to his considerable wealth, as documented in a 2019 investigation by the International Consortium of Investigative Journalists (ICIJ) and Centre for Investigative Journalists Nepal (CIJ-N). Amersi, meanwhile, went on to speak at a University of Oxford event about tackling <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/nepal-s-corruption-carousel">corruption</a>. The irony is not lost. He is now among the major donors to the British Conservative Party, and rubs shoulders with the likes of Boris Johnson and King Charles. Much of the book is based on the author’s conversation with Amersi in 2023 at his lawyer’s offices, where he was invited by Amersi himself in order to ‘set the record straight’ after an ex-Conservative Party MP questioned his iffy financial dealings. In words that would prove to be more relevant than ever, Burgis writes . ‘Everywhere, the powerful are making a renewed claim to the greatest prize of all: to own the truth. The power to choose what you want reality to be and impose that reality on the world.’&nbsp; The footnotes in Cuckooland contain Burgis’ often derisive, wry commentary on Amersi’s indignant, expletive-laden interjections during his interviews. The footnotes are as interesting as the book’s revelations about Nepal’s crony communism. &nbsp; ‘Your agenda is biased against me, and so you are looking for skeletons,’ Amersi insists to Burgis during one of his tirades. ‘Write your book and you’ll see what happens to it,’ he says during another. The underworld that Burgis has shined his light on is bleak. The lines between <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/Kleptocracy-kills,3161">kleptocracy</a> and democracy are blurred, corruption runs rampant, and accountability and truth are lost to the wheeling-dealings that enrich oligarchs.&nbsp; Given the apathy and silence that has greeted the explosive revelations in Cuckooland, perhaps Nepalis would rather have access to telephony than fight corruption. &nbsp;&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241220121232_6b15740b65e4feddfc0afc9972cbfcee1852b8442338be2d2d697dc2357c7727.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20241220121232_6b15740b65e4feddfc0afc9972cbfcee1852b8442338be2d2d697dc2357c7727" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Cuckooland"> </figure>  &nbsp;

Shristi Karki

Nepal’s crony-Communism exposed

Four international names in architecture, Shigeru Ban, Rem Koolhaas, Tadao Ando and Louis Isadore Kahn, all left their mark in Nepal. But despite their best intentions, the ambitious designs fizzled out. Ban, Koolhaas and Ando won Pritzkers, the best known international award for architecture, and Kahn could have won it had the prize been given in his lifetime. But their designs fell short of transforming Nepali architecture and did not help inspire local architects.&nbsp; Why were these four ‘starchitects’ unable to pull off their Nepal projects and enrich the country with exemplary contemporary designs? The failure, especially the violation of Kahn’s design, also raises larger questions about how much contemporary architecture is valued in Nepal.&nbsp; Whereas Sri Lanka had Geoffrey Bawa and Bangladesh had Mazharul Islam, the pioneers of contemporary architecture in Nepal have had far less public appreciation. One wonders if Nepali architecture only refers to the monuments and heritage of the past. Nepal does have examples of outstanding modern architecture such as the &nbsp;पाङ्रे घर ‘Wheel House’ and खुट्टे घर &nbsp;‘House on Legs’ by Shankar Nath Rimal in the 1960s. These are the best examples of how some Nepali designers successfully tailored modern architecture to the Nepali context.&nbsp; Ten years ago, Nepal had three architecture magazines, SPACES, praXis and Business Architecture, but none of these survived. This newspaper has prominently covered contemporary architecture, and the built environment, but these are exceptions in Nepal’s media. There have been a few encouraging signs. The 2024 exhibition Modern Encounters in Architecture in Kathmandu Valley (1945-1985) at the Taragaon Museum had many visitors and its accompanying book is a seminal document.&nbsp; In 2023, the Mountain Architecture Dialogue (MAD) that focused on examples of good-practice sustainable contemporary architecture for the mountainous terrains of Nepal was a packed event with over 300 young architects, engineers, environmentalists and architecture students. <h2>Shigeru Ban</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024122003128_8bb8dde080c5698c2585966bef27ce4c08e4ee488d3432b2caac98b9de762dfe.png" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2024122003128_8bb8dde080c5698c2585966bef27ce4c08e4ee488d3432b2caac98b9de762dfe" data-rendition-name="original" width="990" height="1074" loading="lazy" alt="Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal NT"> </figure>  Shigeru Ban had already built a name for himself in post-disaster construction when he came to Nepal following the 2015 earthquakes in which 500,000 people lost their homes. The basic design and its 3D-rendered images were reviewed in upbeat articles on DOMUS, Architectural Review, Dezeen, and Arch Daily.&nbsp; But his signature cardboard tubes could not handle the monsoon and the roof structure had to be re-designed with timber. Only two shelters were completed in Sindupalchok, and only one of them still stands at the Hyatt Regency grounds today, as Ban’s souvenir to Nepal.&nbsp; <h2>Rem Koolhaas</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024122003128_58afec9b57accfa38327af0936648c6eb2f2e11ff18f1af8ca27383dc57dc222.png" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024122003128_58afec9b57accfa38327af0936648c6eb2f2e11ff18f1af8ca27383dc57dc222" data-rendition-name="original" width="750" height="722" loading="lazy" alt="Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal NT"> </figure>  The designs of Dutch architect Rem Koolhaas have a specific signature: bold shapes and an intriguing architectural typology that challenges standard building blocks. Some designs even seem to defy gravity, like the CCTV headquarters in Beijing: an angular, continuous geometry of glass and steel.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241220031216_a18dc8a8d6b97bc6fa9d590036cf374f9dc3709c699fe5c5787304bbd05cb17d.png" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20241220031216_a18dc8a8d6b97bc6fa9d590036cf374f9dc3709c699fe5c5787304bbd05cb17d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1812" height="1168" loading="lazy" alt="Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal"> <figcaption>Rem Koolhaas' design for Ullen's School in Khumaltar.</figcaption> </figure>  Koolhaas was commissioned by Belgian billionaire Guy Ullens to design a new building for Ullens School in Khumaltar. The most prominent feature is its vertical glass block staircase. Some interior spaces have lowered windowsills, which provide ample views and daylight. But the school building has gone unremarked in Nepal. <h2>Tadao Ando</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241220031212_cc16bd6feb8be07a7198285b847a45d2126dc3a479e0cc7370331861fc544675.png" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20241220031212_cc16bd6feb8be07a7198285b847a45d2126dc3a479e0cc7370331861fc544675" data-rendition-name="original" width="626" height="628" loading="lazy" alt="Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal"> </figure>  Doctors providing aid to victims of the Great Hanshin earthquake in 1995 in Japan requested Tadao Ando, who had donated his Pritzker money to the victims, to also make a design for a hospital in Butwal.&nbsp; Ando’s contribution would be pro-bono and the construction was funded by the Hanshin Earthquake victims and by the popular Japanese newspaper Mainichi, as a tribute to Nepali doctors. The first block that Ando designed for the Siddhartha Children and Women’s Hospital (SCWH) was the out-patient department. He quickly realised that he would not be able to pull off structures with his typical style of smooth-finished, high-quality concrete.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241220031216_73ec0950d52320277ccc81d4a66fa6aa6acb38141e7b7633683e4cf8179dc579.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20241220031216_73ec0950d52320277ccc81d4a66fa6aa6acb38141e7b7633683e4cf8179dc579" data-rendition-name="original" width="1594" height="958" loading="lazy" alt="Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal"> <figcaption>Tadao Ando's Siddhartha Children and Women Hospital in Butwal.</figcaption> </figure>  Ando wrote in the online architectural catalog Architectuul, that the two main problems with the project were costs and the availability of local technology. ‘It became a facility that has a slightly different expression from the buildings I have completed so far,’ he wrote. He designed a colonnade for the west façade that would provide shelter from harsh sunlight, and the exposed brick walls were locally manufactured bricks.&nbsp; The hospital is characterised by modernist cuboidal massing, but the outer brick façades now appear unintentionally badly weathered by monsoons. The interiors lack both sufficient natural light and natural ventilation. <h2>Louis I Kahn</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024122003128_612e199d62fb3e72b6b8f6a936b0fa0451d8c0aa3d831c071320bf423ee3d67f.png" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2024122003128_612e199d62fb3e72b6b8f6a936b0fa0451d8c0aa3d831c071320bf423ee3d67f" data-rendition-name="original" width="694" height="926" loading="lazy" alt="Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal NT"> </figure>  American architect Louis I Kahn had experience of projects in South Asia, and several were under construction when he died suddenly in 1974. Amongst these were the National Assembly complex in Dhaka, the Indian Institute of Management in Ahmedabad and the Family Planning and Maternal Child Welfare Centre in Kathmandu.&nbsp; Kahn had started the USAID funded project in Nepal by developing a master plan for the government institutional zone in Kathmandu, which included a building for the Health Ministry. The building’s façade in exposed brick has deeply recessed vertical windows for shading.&nbsp; The balancing of accentuated horizontal lines in the brickwork with the verticality of the larger composition is the work of a master. The brick walls rise up into punctured parapet walls at the roof level. These square apertures ‘frame the sky’.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241220031216_69c2e4972dbe38773e0a3a3f1129485c9c87033ee84cd454e24ae0dc772d05cf.png" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20241220031216_69c2e4972dbe38773e0a3a3f1129485c9c87033ee84cd454e24ae0dc772d05cf" data-rendition-name="original" width="1924" height="1242" loading="lazy" alt="Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal"> <figcaption>Louis Kahn's plan for the Ministry of Health.</figcaption> </figure>  When Kahn died, only the eastern half of the building was finished. The Western part was never built and Nepal’s bureaucrats decided that without paint, the exposed brick façade was not finished. Then in 1995, citing roof leakage and a space crunch, the Health Ministry added a floor.&nbsp; The frames-to-the-sky in the roof parapet were converted into windows and topped off with a sloping roof of corrugated steel sheets, whose only virtue was that it was cost-effective.&nbsp; Kahn’s orthogonal composition, which clean horizontal and vertical lines, was desecrated despite a public outcry and legal challenges from architects and cultural organisations. A version of this article was first published in HIMAL Southasian. Illustrations by Varun S Bapu.

Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal

Pha Tang, located about 90km east of Chiang Rai and on the border with Laos, was once a completely isolated mountain village. Situated atop Doi Pha Tang, a 1,653-meter mountain, it was one of the most remote and rugged areas in Thailand.&nbsp; Twenty years ago, the unpaved roads made it difficult to reach Pha Tang even with a four-wheel drive vehicle. There were no accommodations or restaurants, and the village had little contact with the outside world. But today, things have changed beyond recognition. Well-paved roads now connect Pha Tang to the rest of the country, and the village has developed with hotels, restaurants, and coffee shops. It became known for its association with ‘Pratu Siam’, the Gate of Thailand, where the sun rises first in the country. Since then, people have begun to visit, especially during the New Year, to make wishes while watching the sunrise.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024122004128_ad19b03a946fbb37c38e7064400cbeb5a99b9afbfca13bae2ce892c2242033c0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2024122004128_ad19b03a946fbb37c38e7064400cbeb5a99b9afbfca13bae2ce892c2242033c0" data-rendition-name="original" width="3072" height="2048" loading="lazy" alt="Pha Tang"> <figcaption>Phratu Siam at the Thai-Laos border.</figcaption> </figure>  However, despite the growth of tourism, Pha Tang still appears lifeless and desolate. As the village chief, Thanaphat, explains: "We expected more tourists, but very few come unless it’s New Year. Hotels and restaurants are mostly invested in by outsiders, so they have little connection to our village, which has around 2,000 residents in 320 households. We mainly grow highland vegetables and fruits like plums.” For those familiar with history, Pha Tang is a treasure trove. During the Cold War, it was a key frontline area for remnants of the Kuomintang (KMT) 3rd Army, 5th Army, and 1st Independent Corps. While the 3rd and 5th Armies established their headquarters at Tham Ngop and Doi Mae Salong, Pha Tang was one of the fiercest battlegrounds in modern Thai history. In the mid-1960s, the Thai government faced increasing pressure from the Communist Party of Thailand (CPT), which had allied with the Communist Party of Laos. The CPT crossed the border and inflicted serious damage on the Thai army. Lacking experience in mountain warfare, the Thai military hired the remnants of the Kuomintang with support from the CIA. This marked the creation of the first secret mercenary force in modern Asian history.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024122004128_4498245dd54b56dce610e85167e26a9d63e4fdaa59f0292b59c04855c717e933.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024122004128_4498245dd54b56dce610e85167e26a9d63e4fdaa59f0292b59c04855c717e933" data-rendition-name="original" width="1288" height="888" loading="lazy" alt="Pha Tang"> <figcaption>Operation 4 - Phatang in 1970.</figcaption> </figure>  The Battle of Pha Tang in 1968 saw about 400 remnants of the Kuomintang, disguised in civilian or Thai military uniforms, fighting against the CPT. They successfully occupied Pha Tang Mountain, but suffered heavy casualties, losing 80 men—about 20% of their forces. From then on, the 3rd and 5th Armies of the Kuomintang remnants served as anti-communist mercenaries for the Thai government until 1982, contributing to nearly 1,000 deaths. In exchange for their services, the Thai government allowed them to settle in areas like Tam Ngop, Doi Mae Salong, and Pha Tang village. ‘It was inevitable at the time, but it remains a shameful chapter in our history that we secretly employed foreign troops—remnants of the Kuomintang—on Thai soil. They made great sacrifices for our country, but unfortunately, we didn’t take enough care of them. As a soldier who fought alongside them in the anti-communist struggle, I have always felt a sense of regret,’ reflects Colonel Santi Santiwatananon, who participated in the Thai army’s operations against the communists and later wrote the book KMT in Thailand. In his memoir, he recalls: ‘In the 1970s, we fought with a monthly salary of just 400 baht, or 20 dollars, from the Thai government. After the war, we received no support from the Thai government or our leader, Gen. Li Wen-huan, commander of the 3rd Army. He had amassed enormous wealth from the opium trade but even took the disarmament funds the Thai government gave us, keeping it for himself.’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241220041212_dea398206c2fcd80fd67fb9fc78869f8a124170a54dee46373c6db26b612b534.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20241220041212_dea398206c2fcd80fd67fb9fc78869f8a124170a54dee46373c6db26b612b534" data-rendition-name="original" width="1091" height="775" loading="lazy" alt="Pha Tang"> <figcaption>KMT troops in Phatang area.</figcaption> </figure>  Rotaru, a former soldier who fought across the Indochina Peninsula as a secret mercenary, voiced his frustration: “We are neither Thai nor Chinese; we are just marginalised people.” Rotaru’s 40-year anti-communist campaign, which began when he was an 11-year-old child soldier fighting against Chinese Communists in the 1950s, and continued against Laotian and Thai Communists, is now fading into history. Over time, most of the remnants of the 3rd Army who helped build Pha Tang have disappeared. Today, the only remaining trace of the village's secret history is a small, shabby memorial hall called the ‘3rd Army 31st Command Headquarters’ located on a hill at the edge of the village. Those who are interested in the rich, albeit troubled, history of Pha Tang can still enjoy its natural beauty. You can climb the mountain behind the village and relax while enjoying panoramic views of the Laotian plains and the mighty Mekong River valley. Alternatively, spend some time in quiet contemplation at the Wat Pha Tang temple perched on the mountain. A trip to Doi Fuh Chi Pha, located 24 km to the south, will also be a memorable experience.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241220041212_1cfa418910dc6c5998da7ae6c4e40fefc9878a22009c8b017a5992cc067b829f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20241220041212_1cfa418910dc6c5998da7ae6c4e40fefc9878a22009c8b017a5992cc067b829f" data-rendition-name="original" width="5472" height="3648" loading="lazy" alt="Pha Tang"> <figcaption>Former HQ of the Third Army-KMT in Pha Tang.</figcaption> </figure>

Pha Tang, the land of the marginalised people

From Chiang Rai, the northeasternmost city of Thailand, travel 60 km along the rugged mountain road 1130, and you'll be amazed by what you find. Luxury hotels, restaurants, tea houses, and souvenir shops line the 2 km road on the mountain.&nbsp; The signs for stores and restaurants, and even the menus, are all written in Chinese. Yunnan-accented Chinese is heard in the air, and on one side, large tour buses discharge Chinese tourists. It feels like you're in Yunnan! Anyone who steps into this place is bound to be confused.&nbsp; If it weren’t for the three-story Thai Military Bank standing in the center of the village, Ban Doi Mae Salong, it would be indistinguishable from any other Yunnan village. The Thai Military Bank, located at the highest point in Thailand, symbolizes both the wealth of this place and its history. Village chief Tawi proudly states that there are 23,000 residents and 200,000 tourists annually (before COVID-19). This is a dramatic increase from just 14,000 people in 2004. Ban Doi Mae Salong, in contrast to the rapidly depopulating trend of other mountain villages, is overflowing with jobs and money. It is rare to find a village in the mountains of Thailand with cars, satellite antennas, computers, and Wi-Fi in every home.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241220031256_4c1772f5ae0b3d93d66c61b111605367348807d658141fd879f8a14c159d22c0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20241220031256_4c1772f5ae0b3d93d66c61b111605367348807d658141fd879f8a14c159d22c0" data-rendition-name="original" width="5472" height="3648" loading="lazy" alt="Ban Doi Mae Salong"> <figcaption>Doi Mae Salong</figcaption> </figure>  The village’s main sources of income are tourism, tea, highland vegetables, and fruits. Above all, Doi Mae Salong is known for its tea. The village’s oolong tea, imported from Taiwan, is considered the best in Southeast Asia. The 200 tons of tea harvested each year from 32 square kilometers of fields has been a major cash crop for Ban Doi Mae Salong. This transformation is remarkable compared to the early 1990s. Back then, the area was accessible only by an unpaved road that became impassable during the rainy season.&nbsp; “The only people coming and going from Ban Doi Mae Salong were soldiers and drug dealers,” says one village elder. Before 1970, the village had been little more than a secret army base with a few rice paddies. Those who lived there were a mix of mountain minorities and ethnic Chinese who had fled Burma after the secret war against the communist guerrillas.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241220031256_6e2d33432214d4f9fc855153654958bd5433e9843f5a283aa9a27cbdf2e37ff6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20241220031256_6e2d33432214d4f9fc855153654958bd5433e9843f5a283aa9a27cbdf2e37ff6" data-rendition-name="original" width="946" height="574" loading="lazy" alt="Ban Doi Mae Salong"> <figcaption>The Fifrth Army into Yunnan.</figcaption> </figure>  This mysterious village of Ban Doi Mae Salong is a place with the same history of the remnants of the Kuomintang as the village of Thm Ngop, 100km to the west. The Kuomintang, who were driven out by the People’s Liberation Army of China across the Burmese border in the early 1950s, were pushed back by the Burmese troops and crossed the Thai border in the early 1960s.&nbsp; Among them, the 5th Army of the remnants led by Gen. Tuan Shi-wen set up headquarters around Doi Mae Salong in 1963. The 5th Army, along with Tham Ngop’s the 3rd Army, served as mercenaries inthe Thai government’s operation to eradicate the communists from the late 1960s to the early 1980s, and in return received permission to settle in Ban Doi Mae Salong. And then the village, which started out as a military base, was a drug stronghold until the 1980s.&nbsp; The 5th and 3rd armies controlled 90 percent of the drug routes in the Golden Triangle, which included Thailand, Burma, and Laos, once the world’s largest opium producing region. In other words, the 3rd and 5th armies financed their wars with opium and their leaders amassed vast wealth. So the root of Ban Doi Mae Salong’s wealth today are wars and drugs. However, the history of the 5th Army that established the village of Ban Doi Mae Salong is still shrouded in many secrets. One of them was their participation as secret mercenaries in the war that took place 3,000km away in Korea in the 1950s.&nbsp; “In 1951, two corps of our Yunnan Anti-Communist Salvation Army, the remnants of the Kuomintang, led by Gen. Li Mi invaded Yunnan through the Kokang Mountains of Burma and we captured Kengma in a week.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241220031256_f3c9e5a8a5fa0c3136fa58bbfa38575c6099868d15f9ee83ad4687faddc85e7d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20241220031256_f3c9e5a8a5fa0c3136fa58bbfa38575c6099868d15f9ee83ad4687faddc85e7d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1496" height="1204" loading="lazy" alt="Ban Doi Mae Salong"> <figcaption>Gen. Duan audiences King Bhumibon.</figcaption> </figure>  At that time, a dozen CIA military advisers arrived on the scene by helicopter, and Gen. Li Mi ordered us saying, "We must help in the Korean War.” Gen. Lei Yu-tian, the deputy commander of the 5th Army who died in 2012, was the first to testify about the secret history of the second front of the Korean War, which had been left blank. Then, the testimony of former CIA agent Bill Young, who retired from Chiang Mai, and Gen. Xiu Zi-cheng, a Taiwanese diplomat who fought in the war as the commander of the 709th Regiment of the 8th Army of the Kuomintang, revealed that the remnants, supported by the CIA, attacked Yunnan at least seven times between August 1951 and May 1952.&nbsp; This was the CIA’s secret war called ‘Operation Paper’, which was approved by US President Harry Truman in order to disperse the Chinese PLA that crossed the Yalu River to help North Korea in the Korean War. However, the US government’s attempts to seize strategically important Yunnan areas, including Menghai, and the popular uprising all ended in failure. Since then the Korean War’s second front was buried in history. Rather, the US only strengthened the remnants of the Kuomintang by supporting the Second Front of the Korean War, thereby shaking the security of the Indochina region. On the other hand, it was hit by the boomerang of the explosive expansion of the international drug market through the remnants of the Kuomintang.&nbsp; The failure of the Second Front of the Korean War was the biggest setback of the Korean War, resulting from the US government’s poor intelligence capabilities and romantic predictions. After the Korean War, the 5th Army joined another CIA’s operation called ‘Secret War’ in Laos during the 1960s as mercenaries. Then continued participated anti-communist war in Thailand between 1970 and 1980s. Ultimately, the builders of the Ban Doi Mae Salong were recorded as the world’s s longest-serving warriors, having spent 50 years on the front lines from the 1940s to the 1980s.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024122004120_e54eaeff1779463299ec1685513fae9014b5d1477cca00bdaad3f5eb10ba6fa7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2024122004120_e54eaeff1779463299ec1685513fae9014b5d1477cca00bdaad3f5eb10ba6fa7" data-rendition-name="original" width="5472" height="3648" loading="lazy" alt="Ban Doi Mae Salong"> <figcaption>Doi Mae Salong-Martyrs Memorial Museum.</figcaption> </figure>  Fragments of that history remain in the mausoleum of Gen. Tuan Shi-wen, commander of the 5th Army, perched on Ban Doi Mae Salong Hill, and in the huge Heroes’ Memorial Hall erected at the entrance to the village. The place that used to be the 5th Army’s parade ground has been turned into a resort, testifying to the lingering history. History does not answer those who do not ask questions. The Thai government changed the name of Ban Doi Mae Salong moved to Santi Khiri, a peaceful hill, in an attempt to erase the village’s notorious history. However, people still live with the name Ban Doi Mae Salong in their mouth.

Ban Doi Mae Salong, the hub of a secret war

After driving north for two hours on Highway 107 from Chiang Mai, and then another hour along Highway 1340, which borders Burma on the left—one of the northernmost roads in Thailand—you will eventually come across a small mountainous village called Tham Ngop.&nbsp; It is located 16 km south of Doi Angkhang, a famous mountain for Thais who want to enjoy the winter. A dozen or so shops are set up at the entrance to the village, offering wild cherries and honey, waiting for tourists. However, very few tourists stop in this village, except perhaps for those in urgent need of a toilet while traveling to and from Doi Angkhang.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241220031228_9da3ee344b3f8a46bdb09bff44634eccd56c2892293bdc31421adbb2ca59097e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20241220031228_9da3ee344b3f8a46bdb09bff44634eccd56c2892293bdc31421adbb2ca59097e" data-rendition-name="original" width="2302" height="3522" loading="lazy" alt="Tham Ngop"> <figcaption>Han poppy ay Doi Angkhang.</figcaption> </figure>  Tham Ngop, home to 600 people in 100 households scattered across 1,000 meters in the mountains, looks like an ordinary village at first glance, with nothing special to note.&nbsp; “There are no jobs here, so the young people have all gone to Chiang Mai or Bangkok. Now, we only have old people who live off picking wild greens and berries,” said 38-year-old Amei. The atmosphere in the village feels desolate. “We don’t know much about our ancestors, except that they came from Yunnan, China, and fought against the communists. Those old soldiers are almost all gone now.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241220031228_b7c975c0b8955179bf0ea254fbbfe5a8bd8b67bb345d9420655c65f707acfa79.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20241220031228_b7c975c0b8955179bf0ea254fbbfe5a8bd8b67bb345d9420655c65f707acfa79" data-rendition-name="original" width="5472" height="3648" loading="lazy" alt="Tham Ngop"> <figcaption>Han KMT Third Army HQ2, Tham Ngop.</figcaption> </figure>  Not only Amei, but almost no one in the village is aware of its secretive past. Tham Ngop was once a key player in international politics, a stage for a secret war that involved the US, Taiwan, Burma, Laos, and Thailand.&nbsp; It is rare for a history from 40 years ago to be so meticulously covered up. The reason? Tham Ngop was the hideout of Chiang Kai-shek’s Kuomintang Third Army, commonly referred to as the Lost Army or the Forgotten Army. When Japan surrendered in 1945, Chiang Kai-shek's Kuomintang, instead of accepting the Communist Party's demand for a popular coalition government, attacked communist-controlled areas in June 1946.&nbsp; Mao Zedong counterattacked with the support of the people, and after capturing Beijing in January 1949, he proceeded to take major Kuomintang strongholds, including Hangzhou, Wuhan, and Shanghai. Mao proclaimed the People’s Republic of China on 1 October 1949.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241220031228_cca78281ea4d291d5e5ec32f758fe86de8730b68ddece151bea282b4540f58fc.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20241220031228_cca78281ea4d291d5e5ec32f758fe86de8730b68ddece151bea282b4540f58fc" data-rendition-name="original" width="1068" height="696" loading="lazy" alt="Tham Ngop"> <figcaption>Third Army HQ</figcaption> </figure>  Chiang Kai-shek, having lost Guangzhou by October 14, fled to Taiwan in December 1949 and established the government of the Republic of China.&nbsp; The remnants of the Kuomintang army, including the 8th Army, 26th Army, and 93rd Division, led by General Li Mi, were pushed back by the People’s Liberation Army and fled across the Yunnan border into Burma in late December. This marked the birth of the remnants of Chiang Kai-shek’s army. The protagonist of Tham Ngop’s story is Li Wen-huan, who crossed the Burmese border from Yunnan in 1951 with 500 armed men from his Mabang gang. They joined the remnants of the Kuomintang, receiving support from the US as part of the Cold War effort to counter communist expansion in Southeast Asia.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241220031228_c48bff6537b80792ae96bbcf6f5949d4a096fc34b195c4af160a97ce2d181cfc.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20241220031228_c48bff6537b80792ae96bbcf6f5949d4a096fc34b195c4af160a97ce2d181cfc" data-rendition-name="original" width="2352" height="2778" loading="lazy" alt="Tham Ngop"> <figcaption>Han KMT third Army HQ13 Gen. Li Wen-huan.</figcaption> </figure>  The CIA secretly deployed agents to reorganise and support the Kuomintang remnants. General Li Mi, who had established his headquarters in Burma, formed the “Yunnan Anti-Communist Salvation Army” and attracted local ethnic minorities to bolster his forces, which swelled to nearly 10,000 troops by April 1951. In June 1951, Burmese Prime Minister U Nu, alarmed by the incursions of the Kuomintang remnants, issued an order to attack. General Li Mi, who was forced out, moved his headquarters to Mong Sat on the Thai border. At this point, Li Wen-huan and the remnants of the Kuomintang began ramping up opium production with the help of local ethnic groups, including the Lahu and Akha, to fund their military operations. The CIA secretly transported the opium from Mong Sat to Chiang Mai and then to Bangkok using Air America.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241220031228_e51aa9a072af6d32eea44a9cc5c381b6de633fc5214397f3e5fa9bcb5aab75ad.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20241220031228_e51aa9a072af6d32eea44a9cc5c381b6de633fc5214397f3e5fa9bcb5aab75ad" data-rendition-name="original" width="1056" height="750" loading="lazy" alt="Tham Ngop"> <figcaption>Third army with Gen.Li Wen-huan.</figcaption> </figure>  Under the protection of General Phao Siyanond, the police chief who controlled Thai politics, the opium spread to Hong Kong, the United States, Malaysia, and Indonesia. The annual opium production along the Burmese border, which had been 30 tons in 1950, increased to 300-600 tons in the mid-1950s when the Kuomintang remnants became involved. In 1953 and 1954, Burma strongly condemned the US government’s secret support for the Kuomintang remnants at the UN. The US, fearing that Burma was aligning with China, decided to withdraw support. Between 1953 and 1954, 5,770 Kuomintang remnants and 880 associated persons were repatriated to Taiwan.&nbsp; On May 30, 1954, General Li Mi declared the disbandment of the Yunnan Anti-Communist Salvation Army, although many remnants remained in the region, reorganized into five armies. In 1955, about 600 remnants returned secretly to the Burma-Laos border, and by 1958, Chinese refugees from the Great Leap Forward joined the remnants. The remnants regained strength, and by the early 1960s, they were deployed as mercenaries in the US-led Secret War against Laos during the Vietnam War. Tham Ngop, which had once been the headquarters of the 3rd Army, quietly influenced modern Asian history. From the 1950s to the 1980s, the remnants of the Kuomintang, including Li Wen-huan, played a dual role in both the international anti-communist movement and the international drug trade. Today, the remnants of Tham Ngop, including Lee Wen-huan, have disappeared, and only a few elderly people remain, with their memories fading. Third-generation residents of Tham Ngop no longer know their grandfather’s history. Today, about 60,000 descendants of the Kuomintang remnants live in 60 villages, including Tham Ngop, along the Thai-Burma and Thai-Laos borders.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241220031228_535b9abc1dfbc2b2c75f70fcb9002211aeb76c38c8fe49c1e2e89a12455a6cc0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20241220031228_535b9abc1dfbc2b2c75f70fcb9002211aeb76c38c8fe49c1e2e89a12455a6cc0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1299" height="920" loading="lazy" alt="Tham Ngop"> <figcaption>Han-KMT's repatriation.</figcaption> </figure>  If you're interested in history, you can catch a glimpse of its traces in Tham Ngop. The gate, bearing the eerie inscription “Preparing for battle with determination to kill the enemy,” still stands. The parade ground of the 3rd Army is now a hotel and restaurant, owned by the daughter of General Li Wen-huan. The house where General Li lived and worked is now a shabby museum, waiting for visitors. Another site worth seeing is Ban Mai Nong Bua, built by General Li Wen-huan, 12km down the mountain from Tham Ngop. The splendid General Li Wen-huan Memorial Hall in the center of the village contrasts sharply with the dilapidated Long Min Zhi Za on the hillside, a neglected corner where a few old remnants live out their final days, yearning for their homeland. If you can feel the traces of history in this remote mountain village, you are already a valuable member of international civil society.

Tham Ngop: Unravelling history

This is the 54th edition of Diaspora Diaries, a regular column about migration in Nepali Times. <h2>Kumar BK</h2> I have enjoyed playing the flute since I was a young boy. I used to play it in the forest while tending to my cattle or collecting firewood near my village in Khotang. But I am a self-taught musician, I have never played professionally. I know I am not as good as other professional flute players like those I often watch on YouTube. Reaching that skill level requires professional training. It took me a lot of practice to reach my present level. My learning was interrupted because of going overseas. Growing up, my father was always abroad: first in Malaysia and then Qatar. I stayed with my maternal uncle, and childhood was a constant struggle. I had to help my grandparents with the family business, so I only got to attend school thrice a week. Even then, I somehow passed Grade 12. My father returned for good, and in 2014 it was my turn to go and work in Malaysia. I did not manage to save much because of household expenses. My brother has health problems, and a lot of my savings went for his treatment. After three years in Malaysia, I went to Dubai in 2020. Because of a bad contract and Covid-19, things did not work out as I anticipated. During the lockdown I spent a few months in my room without work or pay. Eventually I did get a good job, but after two years my contract was not renewed because of slow business. I came home last year and am now headed to Qatar. Let’s see how things go this time. When my father was away, he used to write home once every few months. We received news of his well-being with much relief. Times have changed now.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241214021252_bd2e1b0d8050a884a0efe8ae78bd0d95053424b62ebe6d5bb5a086b07b4bcd8c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20241214021252_bd2e1b0d8050a884a0efe8ae78bd0d95053424b62ebe6d5bb5a086b07b4bcd8c" data-rendition-name="original" width="963" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Kumar BK DD 54"></figure>  With my father sending money, we were able to afford household expenses. Before my father left, we lived in a bamboo shed with a small room, but now we have a house and land. He lifted us to a state where we no longer have to worry about affording food or a roof on our heads. Other hardships remain. As a son of a migrant, there was always the expectation that he would bring us a mobile phone. It is only later after working overseas that I realised it is not so easy. My overseas experience did not lead to much progress. We had many unanticipated expenses that took precedence: someone falling ill, someone falling down and needing hospital care. Random expenses left few savings. I have now realised that it is difficult to make progress from migration alone if we do not have other ways to supplement our overseas earnings. If households back home can cover basic expenses like food, overseas earnings can be channeled to more productive investment to uplift the family. If remittance from one family member is the sole income source, then we migrate just to survive. Migrant workers like me have just one goal: to earn as much as possible in a limited timeframe. I am headed overseas again with the same thought. Back in my village, I look for a quiet, shaded spot in a nearby forest to play my flute by myself while tending to livestock. I am often away now, but my neighbours in the village say that when they hear the sound of a flute from the forest, they know I am home. I am taking my flute with me to Qatar. I will practice in my room in my free time. Playing it in my room will give me comfort. <h2>Deepak Darji</h2> I was very young when I lost my father. After that my mother also started falling ill. Before that, our family was doing just fine financially. My childhood was not easy because of her poor health and my father’s absence. School was not really a priority. I had to make sure my mother had the medicines keeping her alive. I had household chores like cooking. My mother often reminded me to go to school, but how could I? The responsibilities were on my shoulders from a young age. At least now, she is getting a cash grant from the government that has eased things a bit. Over the years, I have been doing odd jobs. Things are not easy and finding regular work is difficult in the village. As a musician, I am part of a पञ्चे बाजा troupe that plays at weddings and other rituals. If the event is far from where we live, we make about Rs4,000 and if close by, it can be up to Rs3,000. The frequency of events varies. Some months we have four or five, while at other times it is less. Over a decade ago, I went to Dubai but did not get to work or earn as planned despite spending almost Rs200,000 in fees. I had to rely on fellow villagers in Dubai for help, but they told me this was not a sustainable way to live overseas. They were right. I came home before the end of my contract, and was heavily in debt because I could not save enough to pay my recruitment loans. In fact, I had to borrow additional money to sustain myself while in Dubai.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241214021252_9c68e45a42623952ca8be0e97e8f45f10851f90e5ab33b3646ccbca962666f06.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20241214021252_9c68e45a42623952ca8be0e97e8f45f10851f90e5ab33b3646ccbca962666f06" data-rendition-name="original" width="720" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Deepak Darji"></figure>  After returning, I have migrated to various places in India including Shillong, Lucknow, Delhi and Mumbai to work in construction or hotels. I also did short term police duties during the election in Nepal, and the earnings helped while getting to serve the country. I have tried to go overseas again but the first failed experience left a deep scar in my psyche. It was difficult to trust people who said they would find me jobs. I also did not have the Rs300,000 fee they demanded for a job in the Gulf. For Malta they wanted up to Rs800,000. I could not afford such high costs. Now, I have six children to take care of along with my wife and mother. I was finally able to go overseas because the job did not require any recruitment fees. After all, we migrate in the hope that something will work out. Just about everyone is leaving from my village. The well-to-do ones go to Japan and Australia, and people like us to the Gulf. I am taking my shehnai oboe to Qatar to practice during breaks, or when I am bored. Eventually, I will have to come home and resume performing at events, so I cannot afford to get rusty. I had previously taken it to India as well and fellow Nepalis would sometimes ask me to play after a hard day’s work. Our house in the village is known as the ‘radio house’ because the radio is always on. When my grandfather was alive, people would come over to listen to farming programs and radio dramas. He used to encourage fellow villagers to adopt the farming practices that the radio programs talked about. Even today, the radio plays throughout the day, and if it ever stops, people are startled by the silence and say: “कस्तो सुनसान भयो”. Diaspora Diaries is a Nepali Times collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working, studying abroad.

Migrating with the music of Nepal

One smoggy winter morning in February 2019, Ekta regretted coming to her sculpture class. It was the first day of her period, and the 19-year-old wished she was home, curled up in bed with a hot water bag to soothe her cramps.
Her class was at Kalapremi Ceramic Studio, a dark room on the ground floor of a house in Maharajganj, and Ekta’s teacher was the artist Gopal Das Shrestha ‘Kalapremi’, a noted sculptor.
Two other students were already there, using all their muscle strength to knead the sculpting clay. Ekta, now 24, recalls how Kalapremi asked her if she was feeling all right. She avoided him, as she did not want everyone to know she was menstruating.
Kalapremi repeatedly asked Ekta what was wrong. She finally muttered that she was having her period, after which he grabbed her hand and led her to a partitioned corner of the studio and sat her on a chair. Before she could stop him, he slid his hand under her dress, and started massaging her abdomen.
“I was horrified,” Ekta recalls. “I told him to stop, but he didn’t listen, asking me not to be shy, saying he knew how to relieve my pain. He stopped only after I protested furiously.”&nbsp;
The art tutor then said, “You’re like my daughter. I’m doing it out of love to make you feel better, but you’re so stubborn.”&nbsp;
“Instead of saying sorry he acted like I was the one having crazy thoughts,” remembers Ekta, adding that from April 2016 to August 2020 beginning the time she was 16, the artist sexually abused and harassed her on several occasions. &nbsp;
Now, Ekta and the artist’s other former students are finally sharing their experiences and some are pressing legal charges against him, hoping that others do not have to endure what they did.&nbsp;
Award-winning artist and teacher Gopal Das Shrestha ‘Kalapremi’ (the name means ‘Art Lover’) is known for his ceramic art, sculpture, and contemporary pottery. He was <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/the-house-of-kalapremi">profiled in Nepali Times after a collaborative exhibition</a>, ‘Where the Wild Things Are’ at the Siddhartha Art Gallery three years ago.&nbsp;
His pieces, titled Gaalis, featured sculpted female figures with the heads of dogs, sheep, and donkeys (pictured) to depict derogatory terms for women. Some critics said the collection was a satire on feminists.
Kalapremi started his artistic and teaching career in 1983 and over the years taught at Bhanubhakta School, Kathmandu University School of Arts, Lalitkala Campus and at his private Kalapremi Ceramic Studio. He has also lectured at Jeonju University in South Korea and recently at Tabor Academy in the United States.
Seven of Kalapremi’s former students were interviewed for this story. Five female students said he touched them inappropriately in his studio or at Kathmandu University. Two male students said they witnessed him abuse and harass the women. In all cases, the students struggled to recognise the abuse when it occurred, and the lack of reporting systems left them to cope on their own for years.&nbsp;
Earlier this year, students shared a social media post hinting at Kalapremi’s history of abusive behaviour following which more students of the artist reached out sharing similar experiences. Some students spoke of abuse that happened as long as 20 years ago.
Kalapremi, 60, has denied the allegations. He told Nepali Times: “Some years ago, there was a movement encouraging people to hug and kiss. I used to do it purely out of friendship and love. But after seeing posts on social media last year calling out my behaviour, I realised my actions may have hurt some people. I understand now that I should have been more mindful.”
He added: “I am also an auxiliary health worker, so I know the exact points to massage to relieve menstrual pain. It’s not just menstruation, I take anyone who is ill to the hospital.”
Sexual abuse is much more rampant than reported given how difficult it is to prove it in court. The law defines sexual abuse as occuring when someone touches another’s private parts, coerces them into touching theirs, uses vulgar language, shows degrading images, or behaves indecently towards them without consent.&nbsp;
Ekta and her fellow students are consulting lawyer Suneeta Regmi Pokhrel, who says they know that even if the court decides in their favour, it is difficult to survive after speaking up, and influential men defend themselves saying they are being framed.&nbsp;
“They are in a lot of pain and weep when recalling how he abused them,” Regmi Pokhrel told us. “They are angry and have filed a case against him, but they are also terrified. They know he is a powerful man and they have seen how our society treats women who speak up against abusers. Unless people speak up, perpetrators will be emboldened.”
Art and academia in Nepal simply reflect the power imbalances in society where people with intersecting identities experience worse forms of abuse. Theatre actors Raj Kumar Pudasaini, Rajan Khatiwada, and Sunil Pokhrel were called out during the #MeToo movement in the Nepali theatre scene in 2019. Even after the allegations Pokhrel went on to receive national awards, while others continued to work without repercussions.
“If you speak up against abusers, you gradually get sidelined from projects,” explained a theatre artist who wished anonymity fearing professional setbacks. “The theatre scene in Nepal is quite small, you just have to make peace with the perpetrators and work with them if you want to sustain yourself.”&nbsp;
In academia there is a history of faculty members sexually harassing students and getting away with it. After Tribhuvan University (TU) lecturer Krishna Bhattachan was accused of harassing women students, the university said it would follow Nepal’s sexual harassment law and set up a reporting mechanism. But nothing happened to the professor, who had already retired. Instead, he counter-accused the students of 'attacking the indigenous people’s movement with baseless allegations' as <a href="https://kathmandupost.com/letters/2019/01/29/bhattachan-responds">he told the Kathmandu Post in 2019</a>. He continues to be featured as a prominent speaker including at TU.
Other faculty members previously accused of sexual harassment include Jagadish Murti Koirala from TU, Bishnu Prasad Acharya from Ratna Rajya Campus, and Bodha Raj Tripathee from Lalitpur Madhyamik Vidhyalaya. A woman staff member from TU also filed a sexual abuse complaint against Dambar Chemjong from TU.
Prominent figures like <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-rise-and-fall-of-nims-purja">mountaineer Nims Purja</a> have been <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2024/05/31/sports/mountaineering-sexual-harassment-abuse-nims-purja.html">accused of sexual assault</a>, and cricketer Sandeep Lamichhane, actor <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/celebrity-rape-case-spotlights-nepal-laws">Paul Shah</a>, and former speaker of Parliament <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/mahara-arrested">Krishna Bahadur Mahara</a> have been accused of rape, but society-at-large has let off the alleged perpetrators amdist a larger debate about justice for survivors and punishment of perpetrators.&nbsp;
‘Gaushala-26’ is the court name given to the 18-year-old who accused Sandeep Lamichhane, former captain of Nepal’s national cricket team and skipper of Biratnagar Kings in the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/here-comes-the-nepal-premier-league">ongoing Nepal Premier League</a>, of rape. She left the country citing society questioning her character affecting her mental health while Lamichhane got an outpouring of support. In May, the Patan High Court overturned a prior verdict that found Lamichhane guilty of rape and had sentenced him to eight years in prison. During the 23-month legal battle to pursue justice, Gaushala-26 faced threats of gang rape and acid attacks.&nbsp;
Exhausted by the struggle, Gaushala-26 sought to “move to a new world” where she could live free without hiding her identity.
Actress Samragyee Rajya Laxmi Shah in an Instagram video now deleted detailed the harassment she faced from a filmmaker during a movie shoot. She did not name any name but veteran actor Bhuwan KC filed a defamation case against Rana, but the court ruled that the charge lacked sufficient evidence.&nbsp;
Former Kathmandu mayor <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/theytoo">Keshav Sthapit also mocked the #MeToo movement</a>, calling accusations against him by journalists Rashmila Prajapati and Ujjwala Maharjan “a rape of men’s rights”.
Serial Abuse
Back at the Kalapremi Ceramics studio, another former student, 24-year-old Rajiv, says he felt the need to speak out after seeing his female classmates being abused.&nbsp;
“He frequently kissed them on their cheeks,” he told Nepali Times. “Whenever they walked into the studio he flailed his arms like a child asking for a hug. They awkwardly hugged him from the side, but he pulled them closer, held their chin, and kissed their cheeks.”&nbsp;
Rajiv says he also saw Kalapremi pull the women’s bra straps, touch their breasts, and slap their buttocks. The young students would freeze, not knowing how to react, and if they protested, he would say it was “normal in art”. Rajiv, 19 at the time like his classmates, remembers thinking perhaps the well-respected artist was right after all.
Another student, Luna, who took lessons at Kalapremi’s studio from 2020 to 2022 did try to confront the tutor after he made an obscene proposal to her. She recalls: “One day when the other students had left the studio and it was just the two of us, he told me that God had given him special artistic talent and he could transfer those powers to me. But to do that both of us will have to be naked, inside a dark room, and have sex.”
Luna, who was 18 then, was livid and told him she did not want any of his powers, but she says he laughed at her as if he was joking. She did not tell her family about the incident because she thought no one would believe her.&nbsp;
“They were all in awe of this famous artist and felt I should be grateful that to be learning sculpting from him,” she says. “I was scared to be alone with him in case he talked about sex again. My coping mechanism was to be rude so he wouldn’t try to come close to me.”
Seeing how some classmates were standing up to Kalapremi, Ekta too tried to push back against his advances, but she said he found ways to coerce her. Since Ekta, Rajiv, and Luna could not afford Kalapremi’s Rs30,000 monthly fee for lessons, he had offered them all a stipend to assist him in the studio.
“He had spondylosis and took me to his therapy sessions to learn massage techniques, then he often made me and other students massage him,” says Ekta. Whenever she refused, he would feign pain to make her feel sorry for him. “He would insist that I put my hands under his shirt so that I could massage him better,” she adds.
The art tutor often tried to “seduce sympathy” from Ekta by sharing how he had never been loved as a child and was “sexually frustrated” as an adult.&nbsp;
“At 7PM, he would pour himself Signature whiskey and immediately go off again about how he was sex-starved. I didn’t know how to respond. It took me time to realise alcohol was just an excuse to talk about sex,” Ekta says.
If convicted, Kalapremi could face financial penalty and/or a prison sentence of up to three years according to Section 224 of National Penal (Code) Act 2017.&nbsp;
Data suggests that victims of child sexual abuse on average take nearly 24 years to tell someone about their trauma, and some may never disclose it at all.&nbsp;
“In our culture, children are rarely taught about boundaries. They often react, show anger when adults pinch their cheeks. But adults insist they did it out of love, and force the children to accept it,” says Sita Lama, a psychotherapist at Manka Kura. “And even when someone touches them inappropriately they struggle to identify and verbalise it.”
When perpetrators claim to be “acting out of love”, Lama says survivors are likely to perceive it as something safe, rather than recognising it as abuse.&nbsp;
“It may take years for them to realise they were abused,” she explains. "And even when they become aware, the power imbalance with the abuser and the associated shame often prevents survivors from speaking up."
Other former students from the School of Art at Kathmandu University have also come forward years later, saying Kalapremi sexually abused them. As young adults, they felt his behaviour was off but were uncertain if it was inappropriate, illegal, or they did not know how to respond. After having understood that it was indeed abuse, they say they are speaking out now to protect others.&nbsp;
Amina Singh, a visiting faculty member at Kathmandu University, says there is no clause against sexual abuse in contracts of teachers, and there is no formal grievance handling mechanism for the students.&nbsp;
“So the only way students can to deal with sexual abuse is approach someone they trust,” she says.
Eight other former art students of Lalit Kala Campus and Srijana College of Fine Arts of Tribhuvan University and other private art studios in Kathmandu say they were also sexually abused by their art teachers. Three faculty members interviewed from these institutions said they saw the abuse, but felt it was futile to report it given how powerful the teachers were.
In the absence of a formal system, some longtime women artists warned each other about “problematic” artists. They shared &nbsp;a “heads-up” to be more cautious when collaborating with them, and avoided responding to their calls and texts after work hours.
To ensure art institutions are safe for all, galleries, museums, artist studios, and smaller art spaces need to develop policies on sexual harassment. This would include a code of conduct or studio policies that hold the leadership accountable and outline the principles of professional ethics.&nbsp;
Students and employees should inquire about accountability mechanisms for raising concerns, both formally and informally, advocates say.
Three years after Ekta left the ceramics studio, she learnt that Kalapremi had harassed many other women. Still trying to get a footing in the art industry, she attended a workshop in Kathmandu where women artists discussed ways to stay safe in the art sector.&nbsp;
Since it was a close-knit group Ekta opened up about how she felt violated and realised she was not alone, he had been abusing underprivileged students for years, and this was common knowledge among artists in Nepal.
Ekta says that even after she quit, Kalapremi continued sending her text messages like ‘I am thinking of you’, ‘Why have you stopped speaking with me’, or ‘I am waiting for your call’.&nbsp;
But what really forced her to act was when Ekta found out that he was sending similar texts to her younger sister.&nbsp;
“I’ve had enough,” she told us. “He abused me all these years but I won’t let him abuse my sister.” &nbsp;
Ekta, Rajiv and Luna are not the real names of the students.&nbsp;

‘Art Lover’ accused of sexual abuse

It was 8:15 in the evening of 25 March 1968 when everyone in the village of Batulechaur near Pokhara heard a deafening sound like thunder as a bright flashing object hurtled down to land in a field.&nbsp; That field belonged to Kul Timilsina, and the next morning he retrieved a sheet of metal about 2m by 1m and carried it home with the help of a few others, thinking it would be useful for his buffalo shed.&nbsp; Before he died at age 83 three years ago, Timilsina had told photo archivist Sunil Ulak that the black metal sheet was not rectangular and had rounded corners. There are a few witnesses still alive who have a clear recollection of the object that fell from the sky that night.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024120707128_75cc85aac56b9cc4a77366471f058d7b3eb6868776811b0923845c2d0a61f014.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2024120707128_75cc85aac56b9cc4a77366471f058d7b3eb6868776811b0923845c2d0a61f014" data-rendition-name="original" width="1170" height="601" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> <figcaption>The field in Batulechaur belonging to Kul Timilsina where fragments of a flying object fell from the sky in 1968.</figcaption> </figure>  One of them is Timilsina’s wife Gyanu, who was 22 at the time. She had been at home, and remembers hearing the big bang and the sky becoming very bright. “We saw the thing in the field in the morning,” she told us. “It looked like a lid, a covering of some sort. The way it was stuck in the ground, it must have fallen from the sky. We thought we could use it to dry clothes on, and took it home.”&nbsp; Another witness is Kul Narayan Paudel. “I was only eight then. We ran to the field to see what had fallen. It was a four-sided metal sheet. The elders took it away, and I don't know what happened to it.” &nbsp; Ram Bahadur Baniya, a teacher at the local school, says he had heard the sheet had been brought to the school, and later handed over to the Zonal Commissioner at the time, Nanda Prasad Malla. “But that is all hearsay,” he says.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024120707128_0bf207a12063fb8155b3c8d9a00a94887b126380c9e0627527c84cf5e1101f54.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024120707128_0bf207a12063fb8155b3c8d9a00a94887b126380c9e0627527c84cf5e1101f54" data-rendition-name="original" width="1170" height="610" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> <figcaption>Gyanu Timilsina, wife of Kul Timilsina.</figcaption> </figure>  There are two versions of what happened to Kul Timilsina’s metal sheet. One is that an American Peace Corp Volunteer teaching at the nearby Bindyabasini School took it, and another is that it was handed over to the government. Recently declassified Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) and US State Department documents from the time say that the US Embassy in Kathmandu tracked down the object two years later and had it shipped back to the US. A telegram from the Department of State and Department of Defense tagged as ‘MOON DUST / Space Fragments’ dated 1 March 1972 stated: ‘1. Restored space fragment will be on board Embassy support flight 115 arriving Kathmandu on or about March 10. Fragment is packed in shipping crate (cargo no. 72-33365) marked in care of DAO.&nbsp; 2. State and Defense representatives examined fragments prior to shipment finding restoration acceptable.’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071212_929d903ee06d41baa4f6040e981cd7c7d7bd75cc9c37c9b617d307fc8538d2df.png" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20241207071212_929d903ee06d41baa4f6040e981cd7c7d7bd75cc9c37c9b617d307fc8538d2df" data-rendition-name="original" width="856" height="568" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> <figcaption>Declassified CIA documents about the investigation into the object sighted in Pokhara. </figcaption> </figure>  The documents show that the US government, military and intelligence agencies investigated this incident thoroughly when it occurred, and have continued to revisit it ever since, as recently as five years ago. What is even more intriguing is that the object that fell in Pokhara was not the only unidentified space object that fell to earth that year. There were similar sightings of objects falling from the sky in Ladakh, Sikkim and Bhutan between 19 February and 25 March 1968.&nbsp; These mysteries were the subject of a CIA investigation in 1968 titled ‘<a href="https://www.cia.gov/readingroom/docs/CIA-RDP81R00560R000100070007-8.pdf">Sighting of Unidentified Flying Objects in Ladakh, Nepal, Sikkim and Bhutan</a>’, and the report is part of the recent online declassification of 800,000 top-secret documents from the period.&nbsp; &nbsp;Although unidentified flying objects (UFOs) have a connotation now of being alien craft, it could be pieces of satellite, missile, rocket or even aircraft. The CIA report documents six sightings in 1968 and quotes local sources as describing all of them having similar characteristics: bright blue or red streaks in the sky accompanied by loud sounds like lightning and thunder and objects falling to the ground. Aside from the metallic object that was found in Batlechaur, there were other items also found nearby in Tallakot, Tureypasal, Armalakot and Maidan. Whatever the object was, it seems to have disintegrated even before it hit the ground.&nbsp; The CIA report records the first sighting on 19 February 1968 in various parts of Sikkim and Olangchung Gola and Ghunsa in eastern Nepal. The light was said to be ‘long and thin’ and giving out ‘green and red light’. &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071212_c3c825027d966a2aedc846970390eebe063957503c7eacc8e01e0517843f9bbb.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20241207071212_c3c825027d966a2aedc846970390eebe063957503c7eacc8e01e0517843f9bbb" data-rendition-name="original" width="892" height="596" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara "> </figure>  Two days later on 21 February, a soundless blue object was seen traveling fast across the sky above Thimphu in Bhutan. Then on 4 March there were multiple daytime sightings or white streaks in the sky at Chang La Pass, Fukche and Koyul in Ladakh. There were more sightings in Ladakh on the very day fragments fell near Pokhara on 25 March 1968.&nbsp; After the sightings in Pokhara, rumours started flying in Kathmandu that these were aliens trying to land on Earth, it could be Russian or Chinese spy planes or satellites, and some even say it as a sign from heaven that the end of the world was near. This was at the height of the Cold War. The Russians and Americans were testing their thermonuclear devices as well as intercontinental ballistic missile delivery systems. The Washington-Beijing rapprochement had not yet happened, and China was making quick progress testing atomic bombs. Within two years after its first atomic test, in 1966 China exploded its first hydrogen bomb at the Lop Nur site in Xinjiang, 3,000km to the north from Nepal. After neary six decades, what is still intriguing is that all the sightings within a few months of each other in 1968 were along the Himalayan arc bordering Tibet: from Bhutan, Sikkim Nepal, to Ladakh. The US military intelligence seems to have concluded that this was not a coincidence and there were frequent research trips to the site in Pokhara by American officials in the months after the incident. With the help of the Royal Nepal Army, the region north of Pokhara was thoroughly searched.&nbsp; A confidential memo dated 25 June 1968 by Jerry C Trippy to a ‘Mr Farley’ mentions that the US Air Force’s Foreign Technology Division had decided that the debris could be important because it may be related to a Chinese missile test or a Soviet ‘Vehicle Venik’ rocket.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071216_feb5425692dc36b20187de4e4fcc2ce9fd12b6d9e1b8724398e50bcdbf9032fe.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20241207071216_feb5425692dc36b20187de4e4fcc2ce9fd12b6d9e1b8724398e50bcdbf9032fe" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> </figure>  On 28 August 1968 the US Embassy in Kathmandu sent a letter to Washington DC saying that the object could be of Soviet origin, possibly from when the rocket carrying the ‘Kosmos 208’ satellite re-entered the atmosphere. But why were the fragments falling to earth several weeks apart, and in the same region? No one knows where the metal sheet that Kul Timilsina recovered is now. It was definitely packed in a crate and taken to the US, and although it is rumoured that it was returned that is not very likely. Archivist Sunil Ulak heard from the Timilsina family that CIA officials had returned to the site five years ago. &nbsp; Interest in UFOs peaked in the US in the 1950s, with the Cold War space race and tests of atomic weapons and delivery rockets. CIA and scientists were being sent to investigate sightings, both publicly and privately. Could the Pokhara fragments as well as the sightings in Ladakh and Bhutan actually be alien craft falling to earth? The renewal in interest in space travel in large part due to Elon Musk’s SpaceX, UFOs and sightings are again subjects of public interest.&nbsp; Even 57 years later, even if there was definitive proof about whether the Batlechaur fragment was from a Chinese missile or a soviet rocket, it has not been made public in documents declassified so far. We may never know.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071216_b6938795f40731e7657fd6dcbb3cf460a326186a15eb11d4f832f602201ff598.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20241207071216_b6938795f40731e7657fd6dcbb3cf460a326186a15eb11d4f832f602201ff598" data-rendition-name="original" width="642" height="320" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> </figure>  Sunil Ulak speculates if the debris actually came from an American aircraft, perhaps on an intel mission upon China. “Which could explain why they were so thorough in collecting the fragments in Pokhara,” he says. But that still does not explain the multiple sightings weeks apart in 1968.&nbsp; Indeed, US military aircraft were at that time flying frequent night-time missions from air force bases in India to supply weapons to Khampa guerrilla camps in Nepal located north of Pokhara in Mustang. It could very well be that the Chinese shot down one such aircraft. The other sightings could have been contrails of US spy planes, or Chinese anti-aircraft missiles.&nbsp; There were quite a few developments regarding UFOs in 2024. In a US congressional hearing in July, former intelligence officer David Grusch claimed that the government had long been involved in a program to investigate and retrieve non-human craft crashes, and then try to reverse engineer them. However Grusch did not show any evidence.&nbsp; The UAP Disclosure Act of 2024 was signed into law by Joe Biden in December 2023. It plans to oversee the public disclosure of UFO information. However, there is a clause in it that prevents disclosure if it would cause threats to military defense, intelligence operations or foreign relations.&nbsp; It is unlikely that the declassified documents about sightings in the Himalayan will cause any real surprise about definite evidence of alien life even if it was found. It seems humanity will continue, at least for now, to wonder about curious lights in the sky and whether there is anybody out there.&nbsp;

UFO over Pokhara

When Rastriya Swatantra Party (RSP) president Rabi Lamichhane was arrested in October on charges of defrauding depositors of cooperatives, the party’s vice president Swarnim Wagle gifted him Fareed Zakaria’s book, Age of Revolutions.
Since then, Lamichhane has been shunted around from Kathmandu to Pokhara to Chitwan and back to Pokhara to attend police investigations and court proceedings. He was being flown to Birganj via Kathmandu on Buddha Air on Monday. There is another pending case in Janakpur.
Human rights groups and civil society have criticised the government for hounding Lamichhane with inhumane treatment that borders on physical torture. The two parties in the coalition, Nepali Congress (NC) and the UML, see Lamichhane’s RSP as a potentially formidable challenge to their power.
Even if the fraud charges against Lamichhane are true, the Nepali public is increasingly looking at the government’s actions through the police and courts as political vendetta.
Despite all the travelling, sometimes by plane and often by road at night, Lamichhane appears to be in high spirits, waving to supporters who often gather if they know he is going to be driven around. A social media video shows him giving high fives to fellow passengers on a recent flight to Pokhara.&nbsp;
In the past weeks, streets in Pokhara have erupted with parallel protests by Lamichhane’s supporters as well as depositors of cooperatives who lost their savings to the scam.&nbsp;
Although family visits are allowed, prison officials in Pokhara told Nepali Times that not many people visit Lamichhane these days. He added, “When he does get visitors, he asks them to bring him books.”
Lamichhane is currently Nepal’s most high-profile public figure in custody, and highlights the stark difference between how influential prisoners are treated compared to ordinary inmates.
There are six prison cells at Kaski District Police Office’s two-story detention centre, three on each floor. And while authorities pack prisoners into already overcrowded cells, Lamichhane has an entire room on the second floor to himself.&nbsp;
He has also been allowed to call his family every few days. Other prisoners are not permitted phone calls except for emergencies.
Meanwhile, Lamichhane’s former business partner Chhabilal Joshi, an ex-Deputy Inspector General of Police with whom he established his Gorkha Media Network, is in custody under the same charges in the prison cell next to him.
Lamichhane is accused of siphoning off depositors' money to the tv network in which he was part-owner and anchor. &nbsp;
Both Lamichhane and Joshi are able to buy food from the police canteen instead of being served the regular meal like other prisoners. Joshi has also given his statement to authorities in Rupandehi and Kathmandu for his alleged role in the scam. Lamichhane is yet to be presented in Kathmandu for questioning.
While he was in custody at the Kathmandu District Police Complex, Joshi expressed his desire to sleep in a police officer’s office, reportedly assuring authorities that he would not run away and he was entitled to certain facilities as a former officer of the law.
“He seemed to be under the impression that he is still a police officer,” says a source at the Kathmandu District Police. “We made it clear to him that as someone accused of a crime, he was not entitled to special treatment.”
Former ministers Balkrishna Khand and Top Bahadur Rayamajhi, and ex-home secretary Tek Narayan Pandey, who were arrested in connection with the fake refugee scam last year, were similarly housed in the offices of law enforcement officials instead of prison cells. Khand has since been released after six months in jail.
While there is no legal provision to keep high-ranking officials in separate detention centres when they are arrested, authorities granting them special facilities is not uncommon. Law enforcement officials say VIP detainees expect preferential treatment while in police custody.
Among those is former Kosi Province minister Lila Ballav Adhikari, who was arrested from Biratnagar on 10 November over his alleged involvement in human trafficking and brought to Kathmandu. Adhikari had flown to Japan without government approval with three individuals on 29 October to attend a cultural conference, but had been sent back to Nepal from Narita.&nbsp;
His three companions were arrested at Kathmandu airport upon their arrival, but Adhikari was able to exit unscathed from the VIP lounge. Adhikari had resigned as the Kosi Province Minister for Internal Affairs and Law when it became public that his companions had been taken into custody, and was himself arrested shortly after. He has since been cleared by the courts.
Throughout his detention, Adhikari was kept separately from other inmates. Senior Superintendent of Police (SSP) Basant Rajouri, head of the Bhadrakali complex, says that while there is no separate detention area for VIPs, some detainees are kept separately depending on the nature of their crime.
However, sources say that arrangements were made for retired judges and others to visit Adhikari frequently worked at the office of a Deputy Superintendent of Police (DSP) during his time in custody.&nbsp;
“He used to constantly pester the authorities to let him sit outside in the sun, and to be able to use the police officer’s shower area,” added an officer.
Adhikari was released on 25 November after the government prosecutor’s office decided not to charge him in a move that was seen to expose the government’s double standards.
Over at Kathmandu’s Dilli Bazar Prison, former Kist Bank CEO Kamal Gyawali emerges from his prison cell into the courtyard of the prison’s ‘Ka (क)’ block every morning with a thick book in his hands, ready to give his daily sermon.
With his long beard, Gyawali, who is serving a prison sentence for banking fraud, looks the part of a religious guru as he implores his rapt listeners to “walk the right path, abandon bad thoughts and turn to scripture and spirituality”.&nbsp;
Afterward, the attendees gather to discuss politics and current affairs. Inmates at his daily sermons at the prison include other high-profile detainees, including former MP Ichchha Raj Tamang, who is in jail for money laundering and cooperatives fraud, former joint secretary Chudamani Sharma, who was convicted of corruption, as well as NC leader Chandra Bahadur Lama and Krishna Bahadur Upreti of the UML both of whom are on trial for embezzling billions of rupees.
Victims of the cooperatives scam that former lawmaker Tamang was involved in have made trips to the prison and requested visits, but he has refused to meet with any of them.
“Tamang often complains that the state has prevented him from returning the money to the victims by locking him up,” says a police officer at the Dili Bazar jail.
“All you hear every day from the VIP prisoners is that they have been framed,” adds the officer. “No one admits that they were involved in misdeeds.”
But while most high-profile prisoners complain about prison conditions, one exception is former provincial lawmaker Deepak Manange, who is serving a sentence at Dilli Bazar Jail for attempted murder.
“He is the happiest prisoner here,” says a warden. “Unlike the others, he doesn’t claim to have been framed, in fact he doesn’t seem to care that he is in prison.”
Manange is detained in the ‘Kha (ख)’ block of the prison complex, which he renovated at his own expense. The block previously housed female prisoners, but Manange used his influence to transfer them elsewhere. He faces no shortage of visitors, who range from political leaders to people from the underworld.
Along with Manange, other well-known prisoners in this block include Nepal Telecom Managing Director Sunil Poudel, and former executive director of the Surakshan Printing Centre Bikal Poudel, who are serving time for corruption.
Former prisoners at Dilli Bazar prison include ex-ministers Khum Bahadur Khadka and Shyam Sundar Gupta, NC leader Ganesh Lama, Maoist MP Balkrishna Dhungel, Nagarik Unmukti Party leader Resham Chaudhary, as well as former IGs Ramesh Chand Thakuri, Om Bikram Rana, and Hem Bahadur Gurung.
Section 54 of Nepal’s Prison Act assigns each prison’s internal administration the
responsibility of governing its prisoners, which means the more favourable the jail management is, the more comfortable it is for prisoners.
Dilli Bazar prison has been the prison of choice for many high-ranking prisoners, especially those convicted of white collar crimes, due to its more accommodating administrators. The prison, which has the capacity to house 700 inmates, is also less crowded than other jails.
Anuj Bhattarai, spokesperson of the Department of Prison Management, says that there is no legal classification in Nepal for felons to be assigned prisons based on the nature of their crimes.
“That Dilli Bazar Jail has a higher number of prisoners convicted of crimes like corruption is most likely a coincidence,” says Bhattarai. “There is no provision for influential people to be able to choose where they will be incarcerated.”&nbsp;
Translated by Shristi Karki from the Nepali original published in himalkhabar.com

What Nepal’s VIP prisoners do in jail

If you were raised in Nepal, you must have picked up its unique set of vocabulary: आन्दोलन, चक्का जाम, बन्द, राँके जुलुस, आफ्नो मान्छे, हाम्रो दल, कर्फु and many more words connoting political protest.
We became familiar with the acrid smell of burning tyres, and eyes smarting from tear gas. And yet, everyone speaks of another revolution in the making. Not by desire, but by suffocation.
We heard speeches about नयाँ नेपाल, but the New Nepal never arrived. The governance system changed, but it did not reflect on people’s lives — except for those close to centres of power. The state is still unreachable and is not bothered about <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/matter-of-life-and-debt">victims of loan sharks</a>, cooperative scams and other injustices.
Politicians continue to speak in sound bites, but fail to deliver. They have mastered the game of pointing fingers towards an external enemy and convincing people that they are never at fault. The political narrative is so disconnected from the actual analysis of the problem that suffocation doesn’t go away after every revolution.
No genuine effort has been made to deliver at all, which is why there is a palpable sense of disillusionment in the air forcing us to seek another revolution, even if Nepal may not be able to afford it.
How has the current system successfully held power, even if the public is deeply frustrated? How is it that for three decades we continue to be led by the same faces, who have time and again, proved to us that they may be great politicians but not national leaders?
<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/improving-internet-governance-in-nepal">My experience at the epicentre of politics</a> has led me to identify three cultures that have enabled political parties to keep a tight hold on power: acceptance, silence and dependency.
We accept things the way they are. We use fatalistic phrases like “नेपालमा यस्तै हो” or “नेपालको कानुन दैब जानुन”. While this resilience enables us to rise back up from devastating calamities, it is also a reason for our compliance with the status quo.
Despite so many ‘revolutions’ that have led to significant reforms, these phrases keep getting reinforced, to the point that the upcoming generations have made it their lingo.&nbsp;
This acceptance is not a symbol of law-abiding citizens, but citizens living in fear of those in power, unable to ask the whys and why-nots.
Innovation suffocates in this culture of acceptance of the status quo. This is manifested in remarks like “but we don’t have any laws for this,” or “we don’t have the capacity to implement this”. An innovator or entrepreneur therefore has to spend that energy to become a political lobbyist, often educating and convincing the bureaucracy.&nbsp;
Remember when locally assembled <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/designed-and-made-in-nepal">Yatri motorbikes</a>, despite having willing customers, had to suffer to secure license numbers because of a lack of regulations? Instead of creating new laws, the government kept chanting the “We will promote Nepal-made goods” mantra, leaving entrepreneurs in a labyrinth of bureaucracy. The weight of acceptance of the law lies heavily on innovators. Fatalism is a tactic used by those in power to generate mass fear in society.
When we accept, we become silent. This is a pervasive phenomenon. We are trained to keep quiet, lest we ruffle feathers, burn bridges, or not get the help we need in future. We know, yet we don’t speak.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/bureaucratic-hurdles-in-researching-nepals-bureaucracy">Bureaucratic hurdles in researching Nepal's bureaucracy</a>, Daniel W Edwards
Here is one example: the 2021 census shows that the number of baby boys born for every 100 baby girls is 112. This is a clear indication of female foeticide because of boy preference in society.
Despite such horrifying realities, there is finger-pointing within the government between the Ministry of Health and Population with the Ministry of Home Affairs. At the citizen level, we know those who are involved in killing girls. Yet, we don’t speak up. The Nepal Medical Council reports state that despite this gender imbalance at birth, there is no indication of any action.
But why would anyone speak against one's own fraternity, no matter how vile the act is?
When we accept and keep quiet, we become dependent on those who yield power. From getting our government procedure completed on time to getting transfers, to accessing any of our legally protected rights as well, we are forced to depend on our networks of चिनेको मान्छे people we know by blood, village, relations, political affiliation.
The culture of dependency has been the established way in Nepal. If you drive a two-wheeler or four-wheeler, and you get into a small accident, you will be asked to sort it yourself, dialing up the most powerful person you know. It becomes a competition of who knows who.
Recently I was told that there were calls from the Ministry of Health and Population and another from the Prime Minister's Office for just one medical position in a private hospital. Each was pushing its own candidate. Guess which candidate got the position.&nbsp;
The dependency of people is not on the laws or the state, it is with people in power, a reliance on the network of somebody who knows somebody, including those not officially in power.
These cultures are deeply ingrained in our heads, and in society. Collectively they form a vicious circle that helps those in power to retain power. This is not the society we want to live in.
Then, what do we do as a collective to break away from this? How do we break away from the cultures of acceptance and silence that have created this dependency? What can we do to ensure that our children do not have to learn the jargon of आन्दोलन before they learn about the state?
These are the cultures political parties need to shed rather than use them to perpetuate their power. This is what <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/an-alternative-to-alternative-politics-in-nepal">alternative politics</a> needs to be about.
Sumana Shrestha is a member of Parliament’s Education, Health and Information Technology parliamentary committee and represents the Rastriya Swatantara Party.