Before the road got here to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/mixed-blessings-in-mustang">Nepal’s prime apple growing region</a>, the bumper fruit harvest would rot in the orchards in autumn. Farmers tried to feed apples to livestock, but the cattle were sick of eating it. There were few jobs, a war was going on, and most young men migrated out of this spectacularly scenic but isolated region along the Kali Gandaki River between Annapurna and Dhaulagiri. &nbsp; Saroj Tulachan was one of them. He left his small homestead near Tukuche and walked five days to Pokhara, took a bus to Kathmandu and through contacts got a job as a chef in Japan. “I was just like a coolie there, working in the kitchen, but I learnt a lot about farming techniques in my spare time, and kept dreaming of the day I would return to Nepal with savings in my pocket,” says Tulachan. But it took him 16 long years to come back. &nbsp; But much more important than savings, he came back with a dream. In the beginning, like most <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/50-diaspora-diaries-in-nepali-times">returnees</a>, he struggled to adjust and find a meaningful job to pay for high living expenses. Then the Covid pandemic hit, and Tulachan fell ill.&nbsp; “I said to myself, why am I staying in the city when my home in the mountains is safe and a heaven on earth?” Tulachan recalls, his face wrinkled in a wide smile.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240719070744_9a3e0f07e70d7c2b0c2b0f717c947e09a8d2fffb31a25fc7e1690171897f5846.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20240719070744_9a3e0f07e70d7c2b0c2b0f717c947e09a8d2fffb31a25fc7e1690171897f5846" data-rendition-name="original" width="1750" height="1313" loading="lazy" alt="Mustang farmer shows what is possible despite government NT"> <figcaption>He has combined his apple farm with an eco-tourism resort in the lap of Mt Nilgiri, added a cold store and expanded his orchard.</figcaption> </figure>  Tulachan’s dream was always to return to his native <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/leaky-roofs-on-the-roof-of-the-world">Mustang</a>, Covid just made him bring the plan forward. What he has achieved since coming back is a remarkable example of passion, simple technical innovation and marketing skills transforming rural Nepal in just a few years. Improving on the knowledge about <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/tara-pariyar-s-karnali">apple farming</a> that he learnt from his father, Tulachan uses a high-density tall spindle farming method to grow apples vertically like vines rather than trees. The system improves productivity through early yield, better fruit quality, and reduced costs for care. Each plant produces more than a much bigger tree of the local Marpha variety, and the fruits fetch a higher price in markets in Pokhara and Kathmandu. In the past year, business has been so successful that Tulachan has expanded from the orchard he inherited from his father to buy and lease more property along the Kali Gandaki floodplain. He is also helping neighbouring farms in Tukuche, Marpha and Jomsom to adopt the new technique. “It does not make sense only for me to do well, the whole community needs to benefit,” says Tulachan. “What is most important is self-fulfillment and happiness, I can’t take my money with me when I die.” And Tulachan is happiest among his apple trees. He is up at the crack of dawn and with his garden shears is off for a morning of pruning, training and grafting apple plants. He has built his own <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/access-to-water-changes-the-face-of-rural-nepal">irrigation system</a> channeling water from a nearby stream. Learning from his Japan stay, he has also established a ryokan-style inn called Mustang Eco Hill Resort by the Pokhara-Jomsom highway with a restaurant serving organic produce from his farm, and a gift shop.&nbsp; A new addition to Tulachan’s <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/what-sustainable-tourism-means-in-practice">eco-tourism</a> and apple orchard venture is a cold storage which evens out the autumn glut after the apple harvest when prices are low, so the fruits fetch a higher price in April-May.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240719070744_e6340bb121f63c35a376fc72eba640e8cc6e5bbb74464b26742ba3dddde1696a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20240719070744_e6340bb121f63c35a376fc72eba640e8cc6e5bbb74464b26742ba3dddde1696a" data-rendition-name="original" width="2500" height="1166" loading="lazy" alt="Mustang farmer shows what is possible despite government NT"> </figure>  “If you want to get rich quick, this is not your line of business,” warns Tulachan, walking between neat rows of tall spindle apple stems to check on his drip irrigation system. “You have to be patient, and plan ten years into the future.” His Japanese high density apple variety takes only three years to ripen, compared to 15 years for local trees. Presently, the farm harvests 18 tons of apple every season, and with the new plants in his expanded farm, Tulachan expects 40 tons. The farm makes Rs3.5 million in profit every year, which goes for upkeep, servicing loans and upgrading his inn.&nbsp; Traders now come all the way from Kathmandu to book Tulachan’s apples. His apple varieties sell for Rs400 per kg at Bhatbhateni department stores, more than three times more than the traditional Marpha variety. A flag of Nepal flutters proudly in the afternoon wind on the roof of the Mustang Eco Hill Resort, and Tulachan says Nepalis who stop at his farm marvel that there is a place like this in Nepal. He has set an example that it is possible to run a profitable business and create jobs despite the government. He says: “There is no point blaming the government, we can do a lot by ourselves. If they just scaled up what I have done here to the national level by investing in tourism, agriculture and hydropower, Nepal can also be prosperous.”

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Mustang farmer shows what is possible despite government

Decades of media stereotyping has given the Karnali a bad rap for &nbsp;chronic hunger and poverty, but at least one woman in this remote region has shown that this need not be so.&nbsp; Pariyar’s husband and two relatives were killed during the Maoist conflict 20 years ago. The responsibility for taking care of her three children and in-laws fell on her young shoulders. &nbsp; When we met her earlier this month in Jumla’s Lihi village, 42-year-old Pariyar was in her apple orchard. The trees were heavy with fruit, and there was a fresh cool breeze blowing down from snow-capped Kanjiroba Himal.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/milking-every-opportunity">Milking every opportunity</a>, Sahina Shrestha  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023061212068_ba7ceda3c995d633becf080d1596648f034072c11535bfe1c6cae6666bd21b15.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2023061212068_ba7ceda3c995d633becf080d1596648f034072c11535bfe1c6cae6666bd21b15" data-rendition-name="original" width="1550" height="1034" loading="lazy" alt="Tara Pariyar’s Karnali NT"> </figure>  The orchard has allowed Pariyar to earn a decent income to turn her life around, and single-handedly care for her family and community. The apples sell for Rs60 per kg, and one season’s income is enough to support the household for the whole year: food, clothing, children’s education.&nbsp; As a single mother from the Dalit community, Tara Pariyar had to constantly struggle against caste and gender discrimination in this culturally conservative area. Added to this was the stigma of widowhood.&nbsp; And till five years ago, she knew nothing about apple cultivation. She was a day labourer in a farm, and believed that owning an apple orchard was only for rich farmers since it required a lot of investment, the trees took five years to bear fruit and the crop could be destroyed by disease or hailstorms. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/tale-of-a-modern-day-lahure">Tale of a modern day lahure</a>, Uday Bahadur Baniya  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023061212068_9676466ac505c24fb7a9fc4e741a4ca34e042fb53beb941cf345cfe9643d9ce9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2023061212068_9676466ac505c24fb7a9fc4e741a4ca34e042fb53beb941cf345cfe9643d9ce9" data-rendition-name="original" width="2339" height="1560" loading="lazy" alt="Tara Pariyar’s Karnali NT"> </figure>  Climate change had also altered the weather pattern, prolonged winter drought affected apple trees that needed snow to flower in spring. She was convinced apple cultivation was too risky for someone with limited means like her. All that changed with the government’s insurance scheme in Humla, Mugu and Jumla districts for apple and other cash crops. Suddenly, farmers did not have to worry about losing their crop and Pariyar took the leap. Under the scheme, the government pays 80% of the annual premium and the farmers bear the rest. The UN’s World Food Programme (WFP) distributed families with up to 25 apple saplings each to get their orchards started. Pariyar already had five apple trees, and she bought another 20 saplings to grow 50 trees. Then she insured some of them for Rs40 per tree per year with Shikhar Insurance. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/feminising-farm-based-firms">Feminising farm-based firms</a>, Shristi Karki&nbsp; <div class="embed-block"><div><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 56.25%;"><iframe src="//cdn.iframe.ly/api/iframe?url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fembed%2FyAoPe6KllSQ&key=87ca3314a9fa775b5c3a7726100694b0" style="top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute; border: 0;" allowfullscreen scrolling="no" allow="accelerometer *; clipboard-write *; encrypted-media *; gyroscope *; picture-in-picture *; web-share *;"></iframe></div></div></div> The company compensates farmers for drought if precipitation in Jumla is less than 70mm from March-May, like this year. Which is why Pariyar received Rs4,500 in insurance payout, and she ploughed it back into her business, buying 40 more apple saplings.&nbsp; “Because climate change has made the rains so unpredictable, apple farming can be very risky, which is why I was hesitant at first, but insuring the trees made business sense, and it has lifted my family’s status,” Pariyar says. &nbsp; Her first apple harvest last year was 200kg, from which she made Rs12,000 income. But this year, with 100 fully grown trees, she hopes to sell up to 1,300kg for Rs74,000. She has her fingers crossed that there will not be one of those fierce spring hailstorms that Jumla Valley is famous for. All this income has helped her pay for her elder son Munal to learn Korean and the younger one, Upahar, to finish Grade 11 in Surkhet. Her daughter Sharada is already married. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/staying-in-nepal-to-create-jobs/">Staying in Nepal to create jobs</a>, Naresh Newar  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023061212068_9fb4ddcb1fbedc5e956b7682c49dbba59a078f68d3f99e7b5a3c185c41026ba4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="2023061212068_9fb4ddcb1fbedc5e956b7682c49dbba59a078f68d3f99e7b5a3c185c41026ba4" data-rendition-name="original" width="2386" height="1591" loading="lazy" alt="Tara Pariyar’s Karnali NT"> </figure>  Income from apple farming has given Pariyar the confidence to also raise chickens and breed rabbits. The local variety of chicken are much sought after for their taste, and she can sell those for Rs800 each, while rabbit meat is catching on and they fetch Rs600.&nbsp; Besides this, Pariyar is also carrying on her family tradition of growing rice and buckwheat in a small plot of land a steep one hour walk up the mountain from her home. Although the harvest is not much, it does mean she does not have to buy the staples.&nbsp; All the work on the farm has taken its toll. Tara’s face is wrinkled, the soles of her feet have hardened with callus because of working barefoot in the fields.&nbsp; “I don’t mind how they look, at least I can provide for my family, and after all, isn’t this the reality of life in the Himalaya?” she asks with a bright smile.&nbsp; Read Also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/money-grows-on-trees-here/" target="_blank">Money grows on trees here</a>, Sahina Shrestha  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230612120612_d71b91179db3fbda7001242d0d7c407674bbc8a80a9ca240b5e26369f535b71a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20230612120612_d71b91179db3fbda7001242d0d7c407674bbc8a80a9ca240b5e26369f535b71a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1182" height="789" loading="lazy" alt="Tara Pariyar’s Karnali NT"> </figure>  Despite this, Pariyar finds time to help her community with a WFP supported lift irrigation program to pump water up from the Tila River to fields along the valley. The cash for work program earns her additional income. The community recognises Tara Pariyar’s struggle and sacrifice to provide for her family, and she has become a source of inspiration for her Lihi village. Last month she was in Surkhet for WFP’s 60th anniversary to share her experience so that farmers like her in Karnali can learn from her success. “All this did not come easy,” Pariyar says, “it was a long struggle. Eighteen years ago, I saw my husband being killed before my eyes, and two other members of my family.” Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-farmers-reap-what-they-sow-and-more"> Nepal’s farmers reap what they sow, and more</a>, Marissa Taylor  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023061212068_5c18a3ffdbc0959749b91fdaabd0071d87030c8955bad107a72bc23d14e5fa5e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="2023061212068_5c18a3ffdbc0959749b91fdaabd0071d87030c8955bad107a72bc23d14e5fa5e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1407" height="940" loading="lazy" alt="Tara Pariyar’s Karnali NT"> </figure>  Tara’s husband Harilal had been forcibly recruited by the Maoists. One monsoon night in 2002, Royal Nepal Army soldiers on patrol came into the village, and Harilal fled up the mountain to hide.&nbsp; Tara had told her husband not to run away since he was not a Maoist. The next morning while she was in the kitchen, the sound of gunfire echoed in the surrounding mountains. She ran outside to see her husband being led away by soldiers, who then shot him dead. She fainted, and by the time she came to learn that the soldiers had already buried her husband on the banks of the Tila. &nbsp; He brother-in-law Khadka had been killed by the army, and he sister-in-law Sopana was raped and killed a year earlier. After their two sons were killed, Tara’s mother-in-law and father-in-law became mentally ill and she had the added burden of taking care of them.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/multimedia/delay-dilute-deny">Delay, dilute, deny</a>, Shristi Karki  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023061212068_9843c87f685b1fdb773729c90435b68aeca1ec908ebfad9c770909ce243e91bf.jpg" data-media-id="editor_13" data-image-id="2023061212068_9843c87f685b1fdb773729c90435b68aeca1ec908ebfad9c770909ce243e91bf" data-rendition-name="original" width="1555" height="1037" loading="lazy" alt="Tara Pariyar’s Karnali NT"> </figure>  Tara went into deep depression after all this, and even tried to kill herself. But it was the thought of leaving behind three young children that brought her back from the brink. Munal Pariyar has memories as a child of his mother facing constant taunts from neighbours. How she would go hungry to be able to afford to educate him and his siblings, while facing social ostracisation in the village for being a Dalit and a widow.&nbsp; “It was a very difficult time, people would come to the house, say unkind things and make our mother cry all the time,” Munal recalls. “But she was like a pillar for us. We had no other support.” Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/news/a-parliamentarian-s-apple-grove">A parliamentarian’s apple grove</a>, Muesh Pokhrel  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023061212068_c2db5371b4b5749b3f69d125aaf7be008dc2b94444782213b265f9750df393b0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_15" data-image-id="2023061212068_c2db5371b4b5749b3f69d125aaf7be008dc2b94444782213b265f9750df393b0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1555" height="1037" loading="lazy" alt="Tara Pariyar’s Karnali NT"> </figure>  But today, villagers who used to spit on Tara and consider it inauspicious to even pass her by on the road come to her for advice on apple farming, insurance and irrigation.&nbsp; Tara Pariyar is happy she has set an example for women to be independent, but says gender and caste discrimination is still common in Jumla.&nbsp; She remembers Maoist guerrillas using cruel words to tell her she would have to live as a widow if her husband did not join the militia. She became a widow anyway. Those former guerrillas are now all in Kathmandu, and the country’s prime minister is a Maoist. Says Tara with a wry smile: “One day I would like to go to Kathmandu to see for myself why the Maoists from here have all gone there, and what is so special about that place.”&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-last-men-standing">The last men standing</a>, Daman Rai

Tara Pariyar’s Karnali

https://youtu.be/etwE_snoB7AWhile Nepal’s Members of Parliament are <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/the-human-cost-of-nepals-political-deadlock/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">squabbling among themselves</a> chasing contracts and lobbying for ministerships in Kathmandu, Polden Chopang Gurung is busy tending to his apple orchard in Ngisyang village of Manang district, and arranging relief for flash flood survivors in the region.Gurung is the chairperson of the Manang chapter of the UML and was elected to the House of Representatives after he broke into the district’s Congress stronghold during the 2017 elections.“I am a representative of the people of Ngisyang, so there is no reason I have to be in Kathmandu in order for me to do my job,” says Gurung with a shrug, “I can serve my constituents from right here.”<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110151156/636d11b89c7e80680e0a989djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3073" height="2048"/><figcaption></figcaption></figure>Gurung’s home district of Manang has been plagued by disasters of late, with the region seeing a seven-month winter drought last year, followed by <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/wildfires-ravage-nepal-mountains/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">wildfires</a> in the spring that burnt entire mountainsides near Chame for three months. Then the monsoon hit the semi-arid district in the Himalayan rain shadow with 300% above average precipitation resulting in <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/himalayan-floods-a-sign-of-worse-to-come/">devastating floods and landslides</a> in mid-June.In the wake of the disaster, Gurung has been actively involved in helicopter rescues of his constituents trapped by the landslides, as well as in the rebuilding of Manang’s disrupted road infrastructure.But even during more normal times, when Parliament is not in session in Kathmandu, Gurung can be found tending to his apple orchard at his home in Ngisyang. “I use whatever free time I have to take care of my apple orchard,” he says.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110151156/636d11bd9c7e80680e0a989ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3073" height="2048">Gurung credits his father for inspiring him to come back to Manang despite having the opportunity and reason to stay in the capital. Like him, his father Pema Chhiring Gurung was an MP and an Assistant Minister for Local Development during the Panchayat era.But Pema Chhiring was first and foremost a farmer, and had started an apple orchard in Manang 45 years ago.“My father always told us that he had tried his best to raise us and to be of help in his community,” recalls Gurung. “He asked that we continue to do the same for our village that he had devoted his entire life to.”Pema Chhiring had built his apple orchard out of land collectively owned by seven Manang villages. Residents of the villages worked in the orchard and distributed the profit amongst themselves.Eventually, the work ceased to yield any profit, and the land was rented out.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110151156/636d11c29c7e80680e0a989fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3073" height="2048">Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/growing-apples-on-a-war-footing/">Growing apples on a war-footing</a>, Mukesh PokhrelNow, his son’s apple orchard is spread over 37 hectares of land in Manang. Gurung obtained the plot when his Manang Agro Company won an open competition six years ago that allowed him to lease the land by paying a yearly sum of Rs5.8 million.Gurung’s orchard is crammed with apple trees, saplings of which were brought from Italy and Serbia. And the yield is plentiful, with 600,000 kgs of apples expected to be harvested this year. Over the next three years, Gurung’s target is to produce 1.7 million kgs of apples annually.Nepal spent Rs243 billion in food imports in the fiscal year 2019/20, an increase of Rs19 billion from the previous fiscal year. Two-thirds of Nepalis depend on agriculture, but Nepal’s annual food imports are increasing exponentially due to a <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-less-and-less-able-to-feed-itself/">growing population and rising income</a>.Of total food imports, Nepal spends upwards of Rs13 billion annually on apple imports. Which is why Gurung believes that there is a huge domestic market for Manang's apples, provided supply can meet demand and there is access to markets. If the fruits themselves do not sell, there is significant demand for products like apple juice, wine and candy.In fact, the demand for apple seedlings from other mountain districts of Jumla, Huma, and Mugu has gone up ever since Gurung began buying better quality saplings that resulted in higher yields.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110151156/636d11c59c7e80680e0a98a0jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3073" height="2048">Gurung tells us that he would rather be recognised as an apple farmer from Manang than an MP in Nepal’s political arena.He adds: “My father told us not to forget our roots, and that individual wealth and happiness held little meaning in the grand scheme of things. So I decided to return home, and build on his legacy.”Translated by Shristi Karki from <a href="https://www.himalkhabar.com/news/126267">the Nepali original</a> published on himalkhabar.comRead also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/mixed-blessings-in-mustang/">Mixed blessings in Mustang</a>, Mukesh Pokhrel

A parliamentarian’s apple grove

Climate change has unleashed floods, but also allowed apple and vegetable farming in what used to be a desert<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221104141140/636516fd9c7e80680e02c24ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="1050"/><figcaption>80-year-old Karma Gurung of Tiri village had never seen a flood before</figcaption></figure>It hardly rains in <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19611#.WrOj2h1ubIU">Upper Mustang</a>, the district of Nepal located beyond the Himalaya which juts out into the Tibetan Plateau.Rain is rare here, and floods even rarer. So when the stream next to her village of Tiri burst its banks five years ago, it was the first time 80-year-old Karma Gurung had ever seen a flood.The heavy rains and flood had killed a migrant worker from Lamjung, and few livestock.“It came suddenly, without warning and I lost 15 cows, ten goats and two horses,” recalls Norbu Gurung, pointing to how high the muddy water and boulders had reached.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221104141140/636517009c7e80680e02c24bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="1050"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221104141140/636517049c7e80680e02c24cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="1050"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Konju Gurung lost a chunk of his nearby <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=9266#.WrOpYh1ubIV">apple farm</a>, which used to earn him Rs100,000 a year. Today, there are only huge boulders and sand where there used to be fruit trees.<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/preparing-for-the-big-flood,3190">Flash floods</a>, which used to be rare in this part of the Himalayan rain shadow, are becoming more frequent as weather patterns become more erratic. In the past decade, the people of Mustang suffered winter droughts, unseasonal snowfalls and cloudbursts.The geology of the area is made up of pre-historic deposits of sand and boulders, and with no trees to hold the topsoil together, these are easily dislodged by heavy rains.It was 1 Jun 2015 when it started raining heavily in Marpha village along the Kali Gandaki. The monsoon rains were not due for another three weeks, but the freak storm dumped a huge amount of rain in the surrounding mountains, sending a wall of liquefied mud down a tributary of the Kali Gandaki.“It had been raining heavily, and all of a sudden there was this thunderous noise as rocks the size of houses were washed down in a sea of mud,” recalls Bhakti Hirachan, 77. The flood damaged 25 houses in Marpha and the scar of the flood can still be seen from the village.A few months later in August, floods came again and destroyed houses and fields in Jong village. Indeed, floods have become commonplace in what used to be arid Mustang.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221104141140/636517079c7e80680e02c24djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="1050"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221104141140/6365170b9c7e80680e02c24ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="1050"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Villagers here say the weather has ‘gone mad’ in the past 20 years, and blame the wrath of the gods. Few here have heard of global warming and how scientists now believe it has made extreme rainfall and extended periods of droughts more common.Climate expert Ngamindra Dahal explains: “There is increasing evidence that global warming has lead to more cloud build-up along the Himalaya, and this is leading to intense storms and creating erratic monsoons and winter rains in Mustang.”Besides flash floods, the uncertain weather is also affecting local crops like buckwheat, barley and corn. Farmer Chiring Pemba Gurung of Jong village says his harvests have gone down by half in the last two years.“Winter snow is good for the spring crop, but for the past two years we hardly had any winter snow, and when it does snow it comes in the spring planting season,” says Chiring Pemba.Ironically, while the weather is creating havoc, long-term change in the climate has allowed vegetables and fruits to grow where they previously could not. There are now apple farms in Upper Mustang, and farmers are switching to cabbage and cauliflowers, which used to be unheard of.“There never used to be apple up there, now you can have orchards in Jharkot, Khinga, Dhe and other areas of Upper Mustang,” says Balkrishna Adhikari who is helping farmers here through the Apple Farm Centre.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221104141140/6365170f9c7e80680e02c24fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="1050"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221104141140/636517129c7e80680e02c250jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="1050"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Meanwhile in the famous apple growing areas of Marpha and Tatopani to the south, new diseases like red spider mite, woolly aphids, and white grub have destroyed many orchards. “It is getting too hot for apple trees in Marpha, and the regions of upper Mustang are becoming more suitable because of climate change,” Adhikari explains.Chiring Pemba Gurung planted 180 apple trees in his new orchard in Jong village, where apples never used to grow. He is confident that the new investment will increase his farm earnings in five years time.Climate change is a mixed blessing here in Mustang. While it has unleashed floods and disasters, the warming trend has also allowed orchards and farms to move up to what used to be barren mountains.Says Kusum Thakali, 77, in Jomsom: “The snow doesn’t fall when it is supposed to, it rains too much at other times, bringing floods, but now we can also practice farming where we never used to be able to.”Read also<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=17269#.WrOgtR1ubIU">Climate refugees in Mustang</a> , From the Nepali Press<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/mustang">Mystical Mustang in the monsoon</a> <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/mustang-safe-for-trekking-post-quake,2416">,  Stéphane Huët</a><a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/review/the-last-yak-herder-of-dhe-review,1469">Climate refugees</a>Plants move up the mountains to escape the heatGlobal warming is melting the Himalaya twice as fast as the rest of the planet, and the most vivid proof of this are rapidly shrinking glaciers and the receding snowline. However, there is another less evident trend, and that is the movement of native plant species up the mountains to escape the heat.Recent research in the Indian and Nepal Himalaya examined plants growing from 60m above sea level up to 6,000m, which showed an upward migration of plants as global warming increased average temperatures across the mountains.Sub-tropical weeds and ferns growing in the low valleys of Sikkim and Kashmir are now found in higher elevations. The journal Nature recently reported that the flowering and fruiting cycles of pear and apple trees have changed over the last 50 years as have their size, colour and taste. Pine species in India’s Himachal Pradesh have moved 1,000m up the slopes in the last three decades, the magazine said. Even moss and lichen are said to be found higher up the mountains as snow cover recedes.Many of the species which cannot adapt by moving higher could eventually become extinct. There is also an upper limit to how far plants can move since there is no topsoil at extreme altitudes to support plant life.

Mixed blessings in Mustang

Many of us former Nepal Peace Corps volunteers (PCVs) would agree that our time in Nepal changed in significant but very different ways our perspectives on life if not the future paths we chose to follow. Of no one was this truer than Dorothy Mierow. Dorothy was born in 1920, in Colorado Springs. Her father Charles C Mierow was a classics scholar and Latin professor, who served for ten years as president of Colorado College.&nbsp; Dorothy developed an interest in animals as a child, graduated with a BA degree in natural history from Carlton College in 1942, a Master’s in biology from the University of Pittsburgh, and another Master’s in geography from the University of Minnesota.&nbsp; As a young woman, Dorothy traveled with her father throughout Europe, including a visit to ancient Greek ruins, and took a Magellan Tour by cruise ship around the world in 1958.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025071901074_0bad133ab22aada319e74bbad95d563e191371db291c08f373839fbd15440262.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2025071901074_0bad133ab22aada319e74bbad95d563e191371db291c08f373839fbd15440262" data-rendition-name="original" width="903" height="1178" loading="lazy" alt="How the Peace Corps changed a volunteer's life"> <figcaption>HOME AWAY FROM HOME: Dorothy Mierow as a college student in her native Colorado.</figcaption> </figure>  She was a college teacher during much of the 1940s, also teaching at a girls’ school in Hawaii. Then back to her native Colorado in 1953, where she became a curator and later director of the Colorado College Natural History Museum. She taught geography classes, and in her free time, Dorothy climbed 22 of Colorado’s 14,000-foot peaks. Traveling in India in 1960, Dorothy decided to spend two weeks in Nepal. In late 1961, she filled out an application to join the Peace Corps and specified that she wanted to go to Nepal, ‘because I admired the people so much when my father and I were there on our trip’.&nbsp; Dorothy reached Kathmandu in September 1962 as the first group of American Peace Corps volunteers in Nepal. She stood out from the others: one of the few women in that group, surely the oldest at age 41, a world traveler, and a woman who already had established a professional career.&nbsp; One doubts if Dorothy had had a husband and children whether she would ever have gone to work and spend much of the rest of her life in Nepal.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025071901078_68e84ade1ffb0f6c83c7f8fa5c1e7315b5f6c543217f96cde012e4d86f171515.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2025071901078_68e84ade1ffb0f6c83c7f8fa5c1e7315b5f6c543217f96cde012e4d86f171515" data-rendition-name="original" width="1259" height="910" loading="lazy" alt="How th Peace Corps changed a volunteer's life NT"> <figcaption>Pokhara Bazar in 1962.</figcaption> </figure>  The Peace Corps assigned Dorothy to teach geography at Tri-Chandra College. After the school closed in the winter due to lack of heating, USAID and the College of Education asked Dorothy to help train general science teachers.&nbsp; She taught for two months and became involved in a textbook-writing project, commenting: ‘I would like the children to know something about public health, conservation (the trees are going fast and so is the soil), and learn the names of some of their common birds, trees, and flowers. They are more impressed with electricity, airplanes, and cell structure.’ When a new college opened in Pokhara in 1963, Dorothy was transferred there and lived with a Nepali family. The college boasted 30 students and no permanent buildings.&nbsp; In October 1963, Dorothy wrote: ‘Pokhara is a town of almost 5,000 people … We are in a fertile valley surrounded by foothills … There is a small Mission Hospital … a Leper Hospital and Tibetan Refugee Camp started by the Red Cross and now run by the Swiss. With winter approaching, more Tibetans are appearing in town, often with pack horses or donkeys. Some have been carrying large boxes of powdered milk,donated (by USAID) to the camp from the airport … There is no electricity, and the transportation problems make many items scarce and expensive. I am really a sort of a museum. The landlord brings all kinds of people in to see how I live and count my shoes and dresses. They express amazement at my books, pictures, tin oven, Nepali dolls from Kathmandu, screened food shelves and curtained closet.’ The standard term for Peace Corps volunteers was two years, but Dorothy extended her term and was still at Prithvi Narayan College at the end of 1965, when she wrote that she had 20 Geography students in the first-year class and 6 in the second year preparing for the IA Examination. The college enrollment was 125 students, and the foundation for a new science building was being excavated.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025071901074_c6a80e5e0db0c705b2f8733c6d30dc0386fe3abbd2238ea9d947b7d746f94a29.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2025071901074_c6a80e5e0db0c705b2f8733c6d30dc0386fe3abbd2238ea9d947b7d746f94a29" data-rendition-name="original" width="902" height="605" loading="lazy" alt="How the Peace Corps changed a volunteer's life"> <figcaption>Mierow and friends at Phewa Lake.</figcaption> </figure>  Dorothy noted that she ate one meal a day at the (Shining Mission) Hospital but otherwise lived on dal-bhat, momo, and potato curry at local shops. However, she had developed a new passion: to build what she initially called the Pokhara Museum of the Himalaya. In commendable Peace Corps fashion, Dorothy always worked with Nepalis and respected the culture. ‘The greatest joy and satisfaction I have had has been from the building of a Museum-Library in memory of my parents … It has been possible to feel like a wealthy benefactor with the money saved by father for the family’s education and now available for the education of others… (Father) would have loved to be in on the founding of a new college and be able to plan a library. Several hundred of the books to be in the museum-library came from his collection and were carefully selected to be of use for students in Nepal…’&nbsp; ‘The museum part is to satisfy my own inclinations and was thought of when I found how little diversion there was for the people of Pokhara… It is part of the University requirements for the college that it should have a geography and biology museum. The museum building is small but adequate.&nbsp; I have tried to design it in harmony with Nepalese architecture and decorate it with some of the art of the best artists or woodcarvers… Posts holding up the porch roof are carved by Cottage Industries to represent different peoples of Nepal in typical costumes. The door was carved by a local wood carver and has typical birds of Nepal around it. Inside are 10 roof-support carvings designed by the retired Director of the National Museum in Kathmandu, Mr. C.M. Maskey.&nbsp; They were carved by the best wood carvers in Patan very skilfully. The building has three rooms: the library, the exhibition room, and a smaller workroom which can be used by our newly formed Woman’s Club as well as other groups or classes.’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025071901074_03d3359c65389d30a0134e9a4862778994121e7e833b7d28b18e06e36fc76ff8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2025071901074_03d3359c65389d30a0134e9a4862778994121e7e833b7d28b18e06e36fc76ff8" data-rendition-name="original" width="629" height="599" loading="lazy" alt="How the Peace Corps changed a volunteer's life"> <figcaption>Mierow with local women in Pokhara in 1969.</figcaption> </figure>  Dorothy promoted her project to influential Nepalis connected with organisations whose support she solicited: The Department of Archaeology, the Department of Agriculture, the Godavari Botanical Gardens; Tribhuvan University’s Science and Education Department, Nature Conservation Society.&nbsp; The museum was opened officially in early 1967. The Annapurna Natural History Museum, the building Dorothy designed and had constructed, is still open and features some exhibits which she created many years ago.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025071901074_54326a8a0685e980e782378076de2f5cd02d2426e9b0d94eed972d3dbe83af26.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2025071901074_54326a8a0685e980e782378076de2f5cd02d2426e9b0d94eed972d3dbe83af26" data-rendition-name="original" width="1333" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="How the Peace Corps changed a volunteer's life"> <figcaption>The Annapurna Natural History Museum.</figcaption> </figure>  Dorothy returned to America in 1967, but she longed for Nepal. In the spring of 1969, she again tried to enroll as a Peace Corps volunteer but was told that as she had spent more than four years, she would not be eligible for another assignment. Undeterred, she persuaded the college in Pokhara to invite her to return as a teacher.&nbsp; UNICEF and the Forestry Department sponsored Dorothy to prepare charts on trees, birds, animals and flowers in colour for distribution to the schools of Nepal. Dorothy, back in the Peace Corps, returned to Pokhara and the Museum in 1972. She formed a friendship with her former geography student from Sikles, Chandra Prasad Gurung, and in 1974, she brought Chandra to America, where he enrolled in Colorado College and studied cultural anthropology.&nbsp; Chandra subsequently earned his PhD in geography from the University of Hawaii and returned to Pokhara to become director of the Annapurna Conservation Area Project. Gurung actively promoted ecotourism, landscape conservation, and biodiversity conservation in Nepal. His life was cut short along with those of 23 other Nepalis and foreigners who perished in a helicopter crash near Taplejung in September 2006.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025071901074_322d3c3ac6f1b08ffa07c44a19998b937a7db9eb43527f7539cf6481e1546314.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2025071901074_322d3c3ac6f1b08ffa07c44a19998b937a7db9eb43527f7539cf6481e1546314" data-rendition-name="original" width="2500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="How the Peace Corps changed a volunteer's life"> <figcaption>Mierow's four books on Nepal and its biodiversity. </figcaption> </figure>  Dorothy worked with several well-known Nepalis to publish her paintings and photos in beautifully illustrated books. She and Hemanta Mishra of the National Parks and Wildlife Service wrote Wild Animals of Nepal (Ratna Pustak Bhandar, 1976). More than 400 photos Dorothy took on treks to the Everest region, Gosaikunda, Muktinath, Jumla and Rara Lake, as well as travels in the Tarai, appeared in Himalayan Flowers and Trees (Sahayogi Prakashan, 1978).&nbsp; The botanist Tirtha Bahadur Shrestha identified the species. Dorothy and Kesar Lall published This Beautiful Nepal (Sahayogi Press, 1981). Birds of the Central Himalayas (1988) contained Dorothy’s paintings of 250 species of birds found along the areas of the Kali Gandaki River, Pokhara, Chitwan and the central Tarai. Dorothy summed up her life and work in Nepal in Thirty Years in Pokhara (Pilgrims Book House, 1997). Dorothy returned to Pokhara and her adopted Gurung family several times during the 1980s and 1990s to celebrate festivals and meet old friends. Her final years were spent at her mountain cottage in Green Mountain Falls north of Colorado Springs. She died at the age of 79 in August, 2000. Nepal gave new meaning and purpose to Dorothy Mierow’s life. Daniel W Edwards was a Peace Corps volunteer in 1966 and is the author of several books on Nepal. The author thanks Special Collections, Tutt Library, Colorado College.

How the Peace Corps changed a volunteer’s life

· On the night of 15 May, two glacial lakes burst in Tharka in Humla and the debris flow washed away homes and bridges.&nbsp; · Last week, a slurry surge on the Kali Gandaki in Upper Mustang caused at least Rs15 million in damage, and was traced to a melting glacier. · Dozens are feared dead after <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/rasuwa-flood-likely-a-glof">an expanding glacial lake in Tibet overflowed</a>, sweeping down into Nepal and damaging four hydropower plants generating 230MW, nearly 8% of the country’s total grid supply.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250718060748_45225dc707c1e9c2968ca8dbf6e564e01e4eb6e2ff254fb8eb940cf62cdd910b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250718060748_45225dc707c1e9c2968ca8dbf6e564e01e4eb6e2ff254fb8eb940cf62cdd910b" data-rendition-name="original" width="2667" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Rasuwa flood"> <figcaption>Miteri friendship bridge connecting Nepal and China was swept away in the Rasuwa flood. Photo: PRAKASH CHANDRA TIMILSENA / NPL</figcaption> </figure>  And those are just in the past month. Climate scientists say Himalayan glacial lake outbursts are becoming more frequent and destructive, and a warning for Nepal not to put all its eggs in the hydropower basket.&nbsp; <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/when-it-rains-it-pours-ksqprbu3">Record precipitation last September</a> unleashed floods that killed 200 people, and temporarily slashed Nepal’s total generation capacity of 3,000MW by nearly half. The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-valley-suffers-quadruple-disaster">Melamchi flood of 2021</a> caused by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/the-not-so-permanent-frost">permafrost melting</a> on a glacier upstream nearly destroyed a $800 million water supply scheme, Nepal’s largest infrastructure project which four years later still has not resumed full operation. The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/sikkim-flood-is-warning-to-nepal">glacial lake overflow in Sikkim</a> caused by record rainfall in September 2023 that destroyed the $1.2 billion Chungthung Dam and caused catastrophic damage to infrastructure on the Teesta River. This was a warning to the cascade of hydropower plants on the Arun and Marsyangdi river basins.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250718060736_6f61797a6be308321e3bae26e55d2f64cba4b9e5eb262adacb9e92fb5f3c6152.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250718060736_6f61797a6be308321e3bae26e55d2f64cba4b9e5eb262adacb9e92fb5f3c6152" data-rendition-name="original" width="919" height="549" loading="lazy" alt="hydro disasters and hydropower plants"> </figure>  Nepal has set a target of generating an additional 28,500MW by 2035 -- out of the feasible 48,000MW -- but how viable is an energy strategy that is exposed to heightened risk due to climate breakdown? &nbsp; “As extreme weather events increase, we must design and build infrastructures respecting river flow and topography,” says former Energy Secretary Dwarika Nath Dhungel. “We must make the best use of our water resources, but not by letting excavators loose everywhere mining riverbeds and building haphazardly where we shouldn’t.”&nbsp; Although no project can be disaster-proof, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/climate-smarter-himalayan-infrastructure">climate smart design</a> can minimise damage from flash floods and landslides. Recent disasters have driven up insurance premiums for energy projects in Nepal, and smaller ones cannot even afford them. The 456MW Upper Tamakosi hydroelectric project which is still not fully functional after the September floods has claimed insurance worth Rs1.8 billion. The alternative to high risk high investment hydropower projects is <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/what-s-cooking-in-nepal-besides-politics">energy diversification</a> to other renewables such as solar, wind or biogas. Nepal gets annual sunlight of 300 days with 6-7 hours on average to total 50,000 terawatt-hours (TWh) per year.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250718060744_4acd452b4117180ca9bb5d3be839ff46dfd5464e4d507f5ad3704cef6253bc48.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20250718060744_4acd452b4117180ca9bb5d3be839ff46dfd5464e4d507f5ad3704cef6253bc48" data-rendition-name="original" width="1080" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="solar power"> <figcaption>Farmers in Tarai using solar powered water pump. Photo: GHAMPOWER</figcaption> </figure>  The Solar and Wind Energy Resource Assessment (SWERA) calculates that Nepal could source 3,000MW from wind energy alone, considering 10% of the area with more than 300W/m2 wind power density. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/people-power/decentralising-power-in-nepal">Solar energy</a> stations are cheaper and quicker to build, and would be an ideal alternative to reliance on hydropower.&nbsp; “There has been some investment in solar power, especially from the state sector,” says water expert Madhukar Upadhyay. “But there is an issue of land acquisition since the arrays need a lot of space. It is comparatively easier to get a permit to put up a hydropower plant on a river.” As for biogas, there is simply no incentive to build on past success with household level plants to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/more-bullshit">promote industrial-scale production</a>. Scaling up biogas by integrating it with urban biodegradable waste would still be a viable alternative to LPG.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250718060744_715d44afd5eb4ba8dafa209b0ad0f19400665797b5f078f5636821e600f96684.jpg" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20250718060744_715d44afd5eb4ba8dafa209b0ad0f19400665797b5f078f5636821e600f96684" data-rendition-name="original" width="1419" height="954" loading="lazy" alt="windmill"> <figcaption>A wind mill in Hapsikot in Nawalpur. Photo: WINPOWER NEPAL</figcaption> </figure>  Nepal’s public sphere is buzzing with excitement over the discovery of potentially 430 billion cubic metres of methane gas beneath Dailekh district that, if properly harnessed, would meet the country’s energy demand for the next 50 years. Even though a feasibility study is awaited, politicians from the prime minister down see this as a petro bonanza that will make Nepal rich. But drilling, storage and distribution of CNG in the country’s current kleptocratic state make that unlikely. If Nepal was to get rich solely on its hydro-energy potential, it could have done so in the past 50 years. Says Dhungel: “This is not exactly a new discovery, but it is premature to celebrate until its extraction is proven to be cost effective. And let us hope it does not get <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/balance-of-power">tangled in geopolitics</a>, since China is involved in the prospecting and drilling, which could make India uneasy.”&nbsp; The country suffers from the Dutch Disease curse even before its resource is fully exploited. And the same cronyism, corruption and rent-seeking structure cannot deliver the riches we expect from Dailekh’s methane discovery. Now, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/right-climate-for-nepal-s-energy-transition">with hydropower in jeopardy</a>, Nepal’s planners will have to evolve a new strategy for energy security into the future. But first, governance needs to be cleaned up with long-term strategic planning that takes climate risk into account. For example, do we need to mine fossil gas when there are renewable options? Will Dailekh take Nepal away from its climate commitments? Says Madhukar Upadhyay: “Nepal has always been resource rich and management poor. And the larger the resource, the bigger our management incapacity. It is a societal malaise.”&nbsp;

Nepal’s Resource Curse

चौतारा rest stops have long been an integral part of scenic touristic town of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/pokhara-six-decades-ago">Pokhara </a>but are now rarely seen as the city bursts at the seams. They say inhabitants of Pokhara saw a plane before they saw cars. Indeed, the grass airfield was built in the 1950s, while the Kathmandu highway 20 years later. Before roads, people walked to get around, pausing to rest or even nap under the shade of banyan-pipal trees. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/pokhara-s-desperation-and-hope">Pokhara airport’</a>s ‘terminal’ in those days was a shady chautara where passengers waited for their flights. The chautara bore silent witness to daily life, whether it was travellers seeking a brief respite from the summer heat or villagers gathering for a chat in the mornings and evenings. But with the roads came vehicles, and then houses started filling up spaces, even farmlands. Pokhara began transforming from a serene village to a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/pokhara-comes-alive-at-night">bustling city</a>.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250719010724_d101fa482441ce67afdf5bc4e4547b334e7662c1cf0a20e9d31a0e8dff66f04b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250719010724_d101fa482441ce67afdf5bc4e4547b334e7662c1cf0a20e9d31a0e8dff66f04b" data-rendition-name="original" width="2147" height="1581" loading="lazy" alt="Trees of life and living NT"> <figcaption>Photo: DURGA RANA MAGAR</figcaption> </figure>  The banyan-pipal trees were chopped down to make way for wider intersections and buildings. The once-iconic rest stops that carried Pokhara’s identity had all but vanished. “Building chautara was once considered a religious duty, which is why so many of them were constructed across Pokhara,” says archivist Sunil Ulak. <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=10927">Ekai Kawaguchi</a>, a Japanese Buddhist monk, who visited Nepal 120 years ago en route to Tibet, documented <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/no-visitors-in-pokhara-to-admire-view">the landscape of Pokhara</a> and its surroundings. In his book, Three Years in Tibet, he reflects on the natural beauty of the town and its shady trees. A chautara used to be surrounded by ponds, where shepherds would bring their cattle to drink from while they took a nap under the shade. The gentle rustling of leaves in the cool breeze lent a soothing melody as did the chirping of birds, while the insects took refuge in the branches and leaves. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/pokhara-800-years-ago">Pokhara 800 years ago</a>, Kunda Dixit This ‘nature’s breeze’, as botanist Kalyan Panta puts it, is now history due to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/cost-of-living-in-a-big-city">haphazard urbanisation</a>. “When the wind strikes against one leaf, it creates a domino effect and other leaves start waving as well,” he explains. There were 632 chautara in the city until 1977, and by 2000 the number had fallen to 278. But in some wards the number of trees fell from 55 in 1984 to only five now.&nbsp; The gradual loss of these resting places has meant habitat <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/between-existence-and-extinction-in-nepal">destruction of birds and insects</a>, it has also damaged the environment and natural beauty of the city.&nbsp; Researcher Jagannath Adhikari’s study showed that infrastructure projects ignored the environment, and concluded that that urbanisation in Pokhara was unsustainable.&nbsp; The destruction continues to this day. Recently, old chaurata in wards 6, 13 and 14 were cleared to make way for a sacrificial ritual. In fact, ward 6 got a permit from the local government to clear its remaining trees.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250719010724_cee1d4faf8376e7ba18b9c7012ea4215b7c3fbf7e0983b0c97005df5567d6de0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20250719010724_cee1d4faf8376e7ba18b9c7012ea4215b7c3fbf7e0983b0c97005df5567d6de0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Trees of life and living NT"> <figcaption>Photo: DURGA RANA MAGAR</figcaption> </figure>  But in wards 13 and 14, the Human Service Foundation cut down some 33 trees for which it is in a dispute with the metropolitan city as there is no unclear jurisdiction regarding who gives the permit. The Kaski Division Forest Office is currently investigating the matter. Elsewhere in ward 19, the ward office had launched ‘मेरो रूख, म काट्छु’ campaign due to an alleged chaos caused by monkeys in the area. The decision was rescinded after an all-around opposition.&nbsp; To be sure, there are policies in place to protect trees such as the Gandaki Province Forestry Act, 2080, and the Regulations, 2081. The province government also introduced an act in 2019 per which no tree, including pipal, silk cotton and other <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/suburban-tales/trees-trees?%2F">trees of natural and historical importance</a> shall be damaged, eroded or removed. But the local government, responsible for implementing the Act, is doing the opposite. “If this rapid rate of tree felling continues, neither trees nor chautara will survive for the future generation,” conservationist Ram Bahadur Poudel tells us, adding that old trees are being cleared under the pretext of pruning branches. Interestingly, Ulak notes that Pokhara-8 was called सिमलचौर in the past because there were so many majestic silk cotton trees, but there are very few left, if any, and hence altering the identity of a place. With modernisation, people have questioned the significance of chautara in this day and age. But they still have relevance. Urban centres in Pokhara and Kathmandu are much hotter than the outskirts because of the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/in-the-heat-of-the-moment-5xcycyot">urban heat island effect</a>. Says archivist Ulak: “While their original purpose was to provide rest, today they continue to play a crucial role in regulating temperature, beautifying the city, and preserving our environment.”

Trees of life and living

Nepalis are living longer than ever. By 2028, the country is set to join the ranks of other <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepals-demographic-window-is-closing">ageing societies</a> around the world, and by 2054, 1 out of every 7 people in Nepal will be over 65. Life expectancy at birth has risen dramatically from just 55 in 1990 to 71 today, &nbsp;thanks to improvements in public health and access. But as more people live longer, the country must also prepare for a parallel rise in age-related illnesses and the complex social and medical needs that come with an <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/need-to-prepare-for-ageing-society,3624">ageing population</a>. Extended families have always acted as a safety net for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/home-sweet-home-for-older-nepalis">the elderly</a>, with children and grandchildren shouldering most caregiving duties. But with more than 1,600 <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/migration-not-a-wish-but-necessity-for-nepalis">Nepalis migrating </a>every day, older parents are left behind with no one to care for them. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/the-new-equaliser">Remittances</a> from migrating youth, which account for nearly a third of Nepal’s GDP, have kept the economy afloat. But money sent home cannot make up for the chronic departure of kin and caregivers, who are often the first to catch the signs and symptoms of disease in elders. In rural areas where over 85% of Nepal’s elderly live, the absence of this daily vigilance means early signs of illness often go unnoticed until they become debilitating. As a result, chronic conditions like hypertension, diabetes, and depression are left unmanaged.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250720130748_213f2c65f2638872e9ac0550a7ac251e4960c3726dc5c76215962a23ba71dff1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250720130748_213f2c65f2638872e9ac0550a7ac251e4960c3726dc5c76215962a23ba71dff1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1064" height="701" loading="lazy" alt="Smart ageing is Nepal’s next frontier"> </figure>  Geriatric medicine is largely absent from medical curricula and there is no national plan in place to manage cognitive decline, memory loss and confusion. These are often mistaken for signs of normal ageing, instead of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/dementia-brings-new-problem-that-families-have-little%20knowledge-of,2151">dementia</a>, delaying care until it is too late. The same pattern plays out with strokes, osteoarthritis, and vision problems — conditions that could be managed early but are instead allowed to spiral into <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/changing-disability-to-this-ability-h68f6sq2">disability</a>. Nepal is not ready for an older future. It needs a strategy for ‘smart ageing’ where the focus is not adding years to life, but enhancing years lived through the intelligent application of policy, infrastructure, and crucially, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/tech-and-transition-in-nepal">technology</a>. Many models of smart ageing, however, are sculpted around modern societies where independent living in later life is the norm. Furthermore, eroding traditional family care and an underdeveloped formal care system means there is a large gap that can’t simply be filled by copy-pasting from foreign models. Nepal must shape its own version of smart ageing. The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/healthcare-moving-from-hospitals-to-homes?%2F">tech boom</a> has led to homegrown digital healthcare apps such as Hamro Doctor, Cura Health, Jeevee and Health Yaad Ayo which offer teleconsultations, online appointments, and at-home test bookings. As <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/nepal-s-new-digital-landscape">smartphones and internet access</a> extend to the most rural fringes of the Nepali countryside, geography is no longer a barrier to the use of these digital tools. What limits their use is the lack of digital proficiency among the older generation. Others find the idea of turning to a device instead of a familiar, reassuring face unfathomable. That is why <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/addressing-nepals-digital-divide?ref=blog.togglecorp.com">digital literacy</a> efforts must be paired with guided human support to build trust alongside technical skill. Such a model of community-led digital mediation is already gaining traction elsewhere. In the UK, ‘digital health ambassadors’—often young people or even schoolchildren—are trained to co-design and advocate for online platforms that resonate with peers who might otherwise feel excluded from automated health services. A Nepali version could engage cohorts of nursing students, tech-savvy youngsters and returnee migrants to assist elders in navigating digital health platforms and troubleshooting problems, and most of all, normalising the idea of health apps being a reliable recourse.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250720130748_fcb94ab76e76b5574189757e88d76fccad4e115e78dd9eae92a3bd4c882c3431.png" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20250720130748_fcb94ab76e76b5574189757e88d76fccad4e115e78dd9eae92a3bd4c882c3431" data-rendition-name="original" width="2246" height="1590" loading="lazy" alt="Smart ageing is Nepal’s next frontier"> </figure>  Nepal’s own network of Female Community Health Volunteers (FCHVs), whose credibility is rooted in long-standing relationships across rural communities, could be similarly upskilled, their roles in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/target-2030-for-maternal-and-newborn-health">maternal and child health </a>expanded and repurposed to also include geriatric tech support. However, there is a limit to how much older adults can adapt to new technologies. So, Nepal should simultaneously invest in passive technologies—tools that monitor and act for the elderly, instead of demanding active use. That is where wearables and in-home smart health devices collectively known as 'gerontechnology' come in. Picture an 82-year-old in far-flung Rolpa, away from the facilities of an urban hospital. Installed in her home are low-cost motion sensors that monitor prolonged inactivity or signs of a fall, instantly triggering alerts to the nearest health post when necessary. On her wrist, a wearable bracelet continuously tracks her sleep, vital signs, oxygen saturation, and glucose levels. This data is encrypted and synced to a digital dashboard accessible by health staff at the local post. If the system flags an acute risk—such as a potential stroke or hypoglycemia—a nearby health worker is dispatched immediately to her home. If her readings over time indicate a trend toward a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/why-do-so-many-nepalis-have-high-blood-pressure">chronic condition</a> like diabetes, community health volunteers step in. They help schedule a virtual consultation with an endocrinologist in Butwal. Based on the advice received, she gets a prescription and picks up her medication from the local community pharmacy, along with a smart dispenser to ensure she sticks to her treatment plan without missing doses. This is not as far-fetched as it may sound. Many of the individual devices forming this connected medical system called an Internet of Medical Things (IoMT) already exist in Nepal as imported commercial products. What is missing is a stronger framework for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/business/public-health-partnership">public-private collaboration</a>: one where health tech companies continue developing locally adapted tools, and the government actively integrates these innovations into public health delivery. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/people-power/nepal-as-an-ai-power-bank">Nepal’s tech ecosystem</a> is maturing, but policymaking must evolve in tandem, especially when it affects an older generation largely resistant to change. The backlash against the recent mandate requiring National Identity Cards for accessing social security benefits revealed the pitfalls of imposing top-down reforms without adequate preparation or support for seniors. For Nepalis to age well, community caregivers, doctors, innovators, and above all, the state, must step in where families have stepped away. The goal is not to replicate traditional care, but to build a coordinated system of support that connects everyone through technology. The future is older for Nepal, let us be wiser too. The writers are pursuing their undergraduate studies in biomedical engineering at the Hong Kong Polytechnic University.

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