Almost a quarter of a century ago, in December 2000, a group of four anthropologists and historians at the University of Cambridge set out to explore new methods for collecting, protecting and connecting historical multimedia collections relating to the Himalayan region in ways that would widen access to the materials through emerging digital platforms.&nbsp; Sarah Harrison, Alan Macfarlane, Sara Shneiderman and I named this pilot project ‘<a href="https://www.digitalhimalaya.com/collections/journals/">Digital Himalaya</a>’. We began by digitising older sets of ethnographic data held in European collections to protect them from obsolescence and decay, forward migrate them as new standards emerged, and share them back with originating communities in the Himalayan region and with scholars everywhere through the web and other appropriate and increasingly accessible digital platforms.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024101515100_b4aedd4b922b06065357141b8989dba5f04e7adfe33d099f08e0636ae63cfb7b.png" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024101515100_b4aedd4b922b06065357141b8989dba5f04e7adfe33d099f08e0636ae63cfb7b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1917" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="Digital Himalaya"> </figure>  The collections that we host have grown over the years, as has the geographic reach of our project and the network of partner institutions with whom we are affiliated. In all, the Digital Himalaya Project has widened and deepened over time, connecting with new audiences and users online and in person. Digital Himalaya is now, by any estimation, a ‘mature’ Digital Humanities project. It emerged before Google was a household name and long before the term Digital Humanities had much traction. The very survival of Digital Himalaya for these 25 years is an indication of its staying power and endurance.&nbsp; That <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/16-600-pages-of-nepali-times-on-digital-himalaya">Digital Himalaya is still ‘here’</a> after all these years (wherever ‘here’ is in these ambiguously-sited digital spaces) when so many other projects of a similar vintage have folded, tells us something about agility and resilience. The Digital Himalaya project has repeatedly had to make a virtue of a necessity. Born at Cambridge, the project moved to Cornell University from 2002 to 2005, where it also began its collaboration with the University of Virginia funded by a grant from the US Department of Education Technological Innovation and Cooperation for Foreign Information Access Program. The project then returned to Cambridge until 2009 when it moved, briefly, to Yale University but without any structural and formal support. From July 2014, the project relocated to the University of British Columbia in Vancouver and became engaged in a loose collaboration with China’s Sichuan University. In each case, rather like being part of a large extended and multigenerational family, these alliances helped to demonstrate to our partners, patrons and ourselves that we were mobile and could bend as new opportunities arose, and harness the particular skills and assets in each institution: Nepali language instruction at Cornell, Tibetan Studies at the University of Virginia, community engagement at the University of British Columbia.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024101515100_30076d0830cc94f24deb49e84e35a789eab92cf7b382c38f48024fc490529005.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2024101515100_30076d0830cc94f24deb49e84e35a789eab92cf7b382c38f48024fc490529005" data-rendition-name="original" width="4000" height="3000" loading="lazy" alt="Digital Himalaya"> <figcaption>Komintal Thami scanning back issues of Nepali-language journals in the Digital Himalaya office in Patan in 2010.</figcaption> </figure>  In 2024 Digital Himalaya developed a partnership with <a href="https://www.archivenepal.org/home">Archive Nepal</a>, a non-profit entity that has taken over the day-to-day management and future developments of Digital Himalaya. I have been worrying about the future of Digital Himalaya from the moment that I helped bring it into being. I was at once delighted that we were in a position to help protect, connect and digitally repatriate these precious collections and at the same time troubled by the fact that, once again, the initiative was housed at an elite Western university far from the communities whose cultural heritage we had the honour and responsibility of managing. I was also acutely aware that I embarked on the Digital Himalaya journey long before I had a permanent job adding an additional layer of vulnerability to an already somewhat fragile undertaking.&nbsp; Over the last decade, I have been principally concerned with two matters when it came to Digital Himalaya. First, ensuring that our collections were stable, secure and accessible to communities in the Himalayan region. Second, to find a way to make myself dispensable and disposable. It was always our intention that one day the collection would either be repatriated to the Himalayan region or maintained and managed by professionals from the region. In April 2022, I was approached by Monish Singh, Founder and Executive Director of a new initiative called Archive Nepal, a non-profit based in New York and Kathmandu registered with the Social Welfare Council of Nepal.&nbsp; Its mission is to encourage the understanding of Nepal’s rich history and culture by curating, digitising, and improving accessibility to digital resources. Archive Nepal is run by an impressive collective of professional Nepalis with backgrounds in project management, software development, archives and information management, data visualisation, data analysis, and data migration.&nbsp; Our first partnership involved <a href="https://www.archivenepal.org/nepalitimes">cohosting the Nepali Times collection</a> which was such a success that we entered into a wide-ranging conversation about the Archive Nepal team taking over the management and maintenance of the Digital Himalaya website to ensure its continued accessibility. On 29 May 2024, day-to-day management of Digital Himalaya was handed over to Archive Nepal. It was always the dream of the founders that Digital Himalaya would one day be run by professionals from the Himalayan region, and in Archive Nepal, we found just the partner we had been hoping for.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024101515100_4b26be64f05ac3dfb769ccf6c1be63236f280625fac9c094feae044948004888.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="2024101515100_4b26be64f05ac3dfb769ccf6c1be63236f280625fac9c094feae044948004888" data-rendition-name="original" width="953" height="715" loading="lazy" alt="Digital Himalaya"> <figcaption>Using a SONY Color Film Chain Adaptor, 16mm projector and a digital camera in Cambridge 2001.</figcaption> </figure>  Digital Himalaya was established to engage in a process of ethical connection and return, ensuring that the historical documentation of Himalayan cultures, languages and publications would be available to communities from the Himalayan region itself, whether online, in print or through local databases.&nbsp; Archive Nepal’s mission is closely aligned with ours: to encourage the understanding of Nepal’s rich history and culture by curating, digitising, and improving access to digital resources. Beginnings are generally easier than endings, whether in relationships or projects. People generally don’t like to talk about endings as these are usually synonymous with death and decline, but those of us active in digital spaces must think critically about not only how we bring things into existence and life, but also how we bring them to a close.&nbsp; Creating dependencies in which projects (or children) cannot live without the people (or parents) who created them is not a position that should be fostered or cultivated, but rather an unfortunate by-product of unhealthy attachment styles and people becoming overly invested in their roles, authorities and importance. Rather like the phoenix of ancient Greek mythology, I have now come to think of Digital Himalaya as an undertaking that will be cyclically regenerated and reborn, gaining new life by rising from the ashes of its earlier incarnation, under new management, as it were, at each transition. As Kahlil Gibran so tenderly wrote, ‘You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.’ This is as true for the work we do as it is for the families of which we are part. With anticipation and excitement, I look forward to the next incarnation of Digital Himalaya under the leadership of Archive Nepal. To look at the PDF archives of Nepali Times from #0 till this week, go to <a href="http://www.nepalitimes">www.nepalitimes</a> and click on the Archive dropdown menu.&nbsp;

Mark Turin

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A homecoming for Digital Himalaya

When Balaram Chitrakar was only 10, he started helping his father in a photo studio in inner city Kathmandu to develop photos in darkroom. By age 12, Chitrakar was already a bonafide photographer. By the time he finished high school in 1959, his father had handed him the keys to the studio. He attended Trichandra College during the day and developed film by night. “Perhaps because photography had become my passion it did not matter that I worked all night,” says Chitrakar, now 82. In 1967, as he finished his BSc exam Chitrakar joined the Department of Archeology’s Bir Library. But during the first few months, all he was made to do was keep written records of the documents. He realised that library users, mostly foreign researchers, had access to original texts and documents of historical importance, as a result of which they had become torn and damaged.&nbsp; So Chitrakar proposed to the Director of the Archeology Department to make duplicate copies of documents so the originals were preserved. The department accepted it and set aside Rs800 for him to buy a camera.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023092511090_e3d69f83f919105d3885e9a8b62ced12ba56051e38cd5b69d1f52eaa14fe2ace.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2023092511090_e3d69f83f919105d3885e9a8b62ced12ba56051e38cd5b69d1f52eaa14fe2ace" data-rendition-name="original" width="6000" height="4000" loading="lazy" alt="Microfilm archiving in Nepal"> </figure>  Chitrakar then began to make photocopies of documents, the first time this was done. Impressed with his work, the Department of Archaeology sent him to India to be trained in microfilming.&nbsp; “Microfilms had not been introduced in Nepal at the time, so I used my curiosity and made an effort during training to figure out how the practice could be brought into application back home,” Chitrakar recalls. When he returned in 1969, the Bir Library was incorporated into the Department of Archaeology’s National Archives. The Nepal government had also agreed with their German counterparts to make microfilms of Nepal’s archival documents, one copy of which would be with Nepal and the other sent to Germany.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023092511094_422339effd991229237231a70c2213de5d6ae2ac09850c98d32d5a88204ab209.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2023092511094_422339effd991229237231a70c2213de5d6ae2ac09850c98d32d5a88204ab209" data-rendition-name="original" width="3000" height="1981" loading="lazy" alt="Microfilming in Nepal"> <figcaption>Balarama Chitrakar with German representative Bernhard Kolver (third from right).(Photo: suman)</figcaption> </figure>  German state-of-the-art equipment, including cameras and dark rooms were used to microfilm 29,000 documents during the first phase of the five-year project. The team worked every day for five years, microfilming many old books and paintings that Patan and Bhaktapur wanted preserved.&nbsp; In 1972, King Birendra personally took an interest in Chitrakar’s work and helped him with preserving the archives. The work continued for 25 years during which 182,000 manuscripts, inscriptions, copper plates, and other objects of archaeological significance were microfilmed. <div class="embed-block"><iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/yv8Fc2WDHPA?si=im2dd1KXGr69Af6D" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen></iframe></div> Chitrakar travelled to Helambu, Langtang, Pokhara, Manakamana, Janakpur and elsewhere to preserve more archival religious documents. &nbsp; He even went to microfilm archives in Dhaka.&nbsp; By 1993 Chitrakar found there was a storage unit of microfilms but it was not temperature and humidity controlled. With his help, the Madan Puraskar Pustakalaya in Patan also began microfilming its archives.&nbsp; After 30 years, Chitrakar retired in 2001, and some of the documents he archived are 1,700 years old. But since then, the fragile microfilms themselves need to be preserved with digitisation.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023092511094_d660a59924507009b148c5e7a11828447a267f94cde841261b54d9e6220e93a2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2023092511094_d660a59924507009b148c5e7a11828447a267f94cde841261b54d9e6220e93a2" data-rendition-name="original" width="3000" height="2000" loading="lazy" alt="Microfilming in Nepal"> <figcaption>Balram Chitrakar in Lumbini stydying microfiliming. </figcaption> </figure>  The microfilms Chitrakar had so painstakingly preserved are beginning to deteriorate due to ‘Vinegar Syndrome’— a chemical reaction that decays the emulsion in film. &nbsp; Microfilms have a lifespan of 100 years, but in Nepal they have begun to deteriorate in half that time. The National Archive has more than 200,000 positives and negatives of ancient texts and documents, out of which 500 are already damaged beyond repair. The Department of Archaeology submitted the Microfilm Reel Preservation Action Plan to the Ministry of Culture, Tourism and Civil Aviation in 2014 but the Ministry has not done much.&nbsp; Nepal stands to lose its archive of archaeological objects, and 82-year-old Chitrakar stands to lose his life’s work and legacy. He preserved historical documents by microfilming them which themselves now need to be preserved. “The fact that these microfilms are in a state of decay means that my entire life’s work will have gone to waste,” says Chitrakar wearily. “And what will we have left if we fail to conserve these microfilms?” &nbsp;

Memories of an archivist

I unwrap The Public Life of Women, A Feminist Memory Project, and then slide the book out of its maroon case. An olive photo book with black pages reveals itself to me. My palms and fingers close around it in an embrace, the texture of a book always tells you something. I flip through the pages and want to turn to the only other person on the terrace-pub, a stylishly-dressed young woman, to say: What a gorgeous, wholesome book! Flipping through the pages, I am swept by gratitude for the women who came before us, for making sitting alone in public places in Nepal possible for women. When my friend shows up, I nudge the book in her direction. She says: “The white letters against black pages are symbolic, like light in the dark, showing us the way forward.” Valentina Abenavoli’s aesthetics will not just pass you by — the design carries the depth of the content, even if the book might need a stronger binding. This collection by Nepal Picture Library is based on an archival campaign representing women from all &nbsp;backgrounds from all over Nepal. The acknowledgement, as acknowledgement should be, is generous and not at all rushed. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/feminist-prints">Feminist prints</a>, Monika Deupala &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;…  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230903030940_1c791ae4eba749940e0373ea3a992ca6e1b436d440bbee7b74cee87850e6adc0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20230903030940_1c791ae4eba749940e0373ea3a992ca6e1b436d440bbee7b74cee87850e6adc0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1065" height="710" loading="lazy" alt="Feminist project NT"> </figure>  Mamu receives the book, flips through it and says: “This is the book for every Nepali woman. Many thanks to whoever made this.” She sits down at the dining table and starts turning the pages right away. She pauses at the photo of urban Nepali women in Moscow in 1963. Yes, they did represent a certain class of Nepali society. Still, it makes me wonder if my mother, growing up, gained hope from women like them. And even though she has spent her own life in and around the kitchen, perhaps knowing that there were women out there, who were trying, gave her hope for her unborn daughters? The thought makes me weep. I wish Mamu had a moment like Prativa Subedi, standing coy of the ocean in a 1994 image, a reminder of The Awakening by Kate Chopin. “We will save the book for my unborn daughters,” I say. Mamu nods. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/coping-with-patriarchy">Coping with patriarchy</a>, Bhumi Ghimire &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;…  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230903030940_f05d136605b0771f07a63f7bb398868c54f9d6a96f0d3cce0abeec6382785184.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20230903030940_f05d136605b0771f07a63f7bb398868c54f9d6a96f0d3cce0abeec6382785184" data-rendition-name="original" width="1065" height="710" loading="lazy" alt="Feminist project NT"> </figure>  Throughout history invisible lines have been drawn around women. This book is about those who have taken us beyond those lines. The first images in the book are of women at public events. Strangers stare back from the images. They feel familiar, because which woman is not &nbsp;familiar to another? They were women who cooked and cleaned alongside their public or political lives. Some operated as flag bearers for the men they loved. Long after I have put the book down, the image lingers of Rashmi Shah pillion riding on a motorbike with her husband, and her poem where red becomes the colour of revolution, the colour that binds them. The book is a collage of arrested moments in some stranger’s camera or perhaps that of acquaintances, mostly male. It is a representation of the gaze, all of them very different from one another, just as the women we see in the images, who tried to change the idea of belonging in class or caste. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/suburban-tales/memory-of-a-conversation">Memory of a conversation</a>, Pratibha Tuladhar  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230903030940_69399aa9662bb1ad09cd1241de5b341f288a1aa33c2a31c09f667bb700dcaab9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20230903030940_69399aa9662bb1ad09cd1241de5b341f288a1aa33c2a31c09f667bb700dcaab9" data-rendition-name="original" width="1440" height="1440" loading="lazy" alt="Feminist project NT"> </figure>  Sushila Shrestha’s ‘party marriage’ to Ashok Rai, which breaks the social convention is one such example, where marriage is also a political project. There is also mention of an ‘arrest warrant’ but no details divulged, making Shrestha’s story one of the many incomplete anecdotes in the book.&nbsp; Shanta Manavi is also ‘compelled’ to work as an underground operative after she met Modnath Prasrit in Banaras. And the un-captioned mugshots collected by Parijat and Punaya Prabha Devi Dhungana. So, they become an enigma. In the mystery of the intersection of the private and the political, are the very public images of Nani Maiya Dahal at the election victory rally in 1981. The photos are probably the first such we see of a woman leader woven into the fabric of her supporters. They depict what Nepal might have had to offer to its women politicians.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/are-women-not-nepali-enough">Are women not Nepali enough?</a>, Sahina Shrestha  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230903030940_213ab8ef0355e04cd5ea95b42d87182e5debeb8602a2613527a74b733626e8a1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20230903030940_213ab8ef0355e04cd5ea95b42d87182e5debeb8602a2613527a74b733626e8a1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1066" height="711" loading="lazy" alt="Feminist project NT"> </figure>  And yet, their political careers have always been short-lived, mostly oligarchic in nature, many of them operating from backstage, emerging time and again and then, exeunt. Women are beautiful. And the most beautiful are those who have fought like images of the Tharu women from Karjahi of Dang who led the peasants’ revolt in 1980 against local landlords. We shine brightest when it is dark. The photos of women in education are the most important for obvious reasons -- they trace the trajectory to women’s becoming. There is the fierceness of conviction in Chandra Malla establishing a school for girls in Makhan, circa 1935. Two high school teachers in Tehrathum in 1970: something remarkable about the light in their eyes. Female students prepare for Kathmandu education in an image from Doti in 1966. Little girls stand around them, watching, a moment so familiar to me. Seeing my Nini go to TU as a child was how I first decided that someday, I too would go to university.&nbsp; Images of ladies’ handbags and shoes and no-shoes are representations of status and economic independence.The book is more than just images, it is a repository of scraps and letters, articles, interviews, records, copies, journals, and notes and legal documents tucked in neatly, each revealing something about lives known and unknown. The images are flanked by texts in both English and Nepali, the Nepali version reads better and provides better context. Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=17426">Singing of sorrow</a>, Indu Nepal  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230903030936_fb05a4c2314c5f2545bf1b5b0507006f35c8fe3c52e06c4435746d44190ba41a.png" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20230903030936_fb05a4c2314c5f2545bf1b5b0507006f35c8fe3c52e06c4435746d44190ba41a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Feminist project NT"> </figure>  The book follows no chronology, but segments act like the stream of consciousness, flowing from one thing that stands out to another. Some recent photos appear in black and white, as if to give them a dated feel. Probably aesthetics. So many lives: their aspirations, suffering, dreams, period cramps, menopausal mood swings. Who knows what they were experiencing at the time they were facing the camera. It is as much for the audience to feel as for the subjects of the images. Like Nayantara Gurung Kakshapati says in the curator’s conversation section, where one is in their lives when they engage with the images impacts how one interacts with images. And she raises an important question: What about those who were not photographed? More archiving, then? Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/making-nepal-s-history-colourful">Making Nepal’s history colourful</a>

Pratibha Tuladhar

Pictures of women taking pictures

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161132/636d19c69c7e80680e0ac83bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"/><figcaption>Niels Gutschow next to the 17th century wooden door added to the guest house. All photos: MONIKA DEUPALA</figcaption></figure>"Welcome to my playground,” calls Niels Gutschow from the brick-laid front yard of his home in Bhaktapur. At the centre stands the single-storey house, with a narrow door in the middle of the vast brick façade, bracketed by two lattice windows. The house originally had three floors, but the 2015 earthquake brought much of the structure down.Cool breeze rushes in from all sides, filling the air with a polyphonic rustle of leaves. Here is a world unto itself, far from the hustle and bustle of this historic city. The sky is blue, the landscape is crisp, absent of dust, and butterflies flutter about. The nearest road is a 7-minute walk away, whatever trace of the mechanical city life beyond filtered by the willow trees that line the narrow trail leading up to the house.Gutschow’s wife Wau sits on the plinth next to the door, knitting. “A sweater for Niels,” she says, holding it up. “I knitted a red one before, did I not?”Gutschow nods. It is a white sweater this time.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161132/636d19cb9c7e80680e0ac83cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Every year for the last 30 years (although, Nepal has been his home for nearly 50 years now), Niels and Wau would leave Nepal for Germany in November where they live near Heidelberg amidst landscape much like their Tahaja Hill home in Bhaktapur, secluded and peaceful.But this November, the Gutschows are making the trip back for the last time, leaving behind an extensive bibliography on the architectural anthropology of Nepal as well as an invaluable contribution to the conservation of the country’s tangible and intangible heritage.A striking example of this can be found in the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/business/hyatt-performs-its-annual-chaitya-puja/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/business/hyatt-performs-its-annual-chaitya-puja/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1635599145453000&amp;usg=AFQjCNGKse0tTwL-gkaxdbdj7U6diiE7Xw">chaitya-studded lobby</a> of the Hyatt Regency in Bouddha which Gutschow designed. These are the exact replica of shrines built between the 7th and 19th centuries around Kathmandu Valley.Even as the Valley’s cityscape turns to cement and steel, spreading like tumour devouring the countless quarters of historical and cultural significance, visiting the stone archive in Hyatt lobby presents some consolation and even a chance to return to our architectural roots.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161132/636d19ce9c7e80680e0ac83djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><a href="https://www.asia-europe.uni-heidelberg.de/en/people/person/persdetail/gutschow.html" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.asia-europe.uni-heidelberg.de/en/people/person/persdetail/gutschow.html&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1635599145453000&amp;usg=AFQjCNEzu69uTKZOvGSr0pRp7f2IrReWOA">Gutschow</a> was born in 1941 in Hamburg. His father was an architect, to whom he credits his entry into the visual 3-D world. He studied Latin and Greek in school, and in 1958 attended Buddhist Sunday classes. Educated not just in the Western classical canon but also Buddhist philosophy, he first came to Nepal in 1962 en route to Burma.In May of the same year, he witnessed the Machindranath Jatra in Lalitpur which had a profound impact on him, and made him decide this was something he would like to study. An architectural anthropologist by profession, he returned to Nepal in 1970, sponsored by the German Research Council to study the villages of Marpha and Tukche in lower Mustang.It was around this time that he met a German diplomat who wanted Gutschow involved in a project to restore the historic Pujari Math priestly residence in Bhaktapur. He prepared a plan for its restoration after surveying the badly ruined building complex with the help of Krishna Shrestha, the director of the National Art Gallery.The project was a precursor to what was to follow: an ambitious bilateral initiative between Nepal and Germany for the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19496#.YXqErFVByJA" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id%3D19496%23.YXqErFVByJA&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1635599145454000&amp;usg=AFQjCNFaE5KX7Au_TkhfxlIGyc6fP4fKeA">conservation of the architectural heritage of Bhaktapur</a>. He returned to Nepal on 22 August 1971 to organise the site visit, and took up residence at Bhaktapur in the ‘Rana House’ – now a homeopathic clinic – near Nag Pokhari.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161132/636d19d29c7e80680e0ac83ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Walking around Bhaktapur even today is like stepping back in time. Its unique charm is preserved intact in the folds of its buildings and heritage – still largely untouched by the haphazard westernisation that has destroyed other towns in the Valley.Back in the 1970s, Bhaktapur was dilapidated, but had its historic urbanscape even more pristine. The Arniko Highway was just being built, and there were only a couple of buses a day to and from Kathmandu. Gutschow fully immerse himself in the life and happenings of this little city. He witnessed Indra Jatra and Dasain, and experienced communities get together during the Bisket Jatra and during the procession of the Navadurga.“It was fascinating to see Newars use their space as a stage,” he recalls.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/review/remembering-robert-powell/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Remembering Robert Powell</a>, Ashish Dhakal<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161132/636d19d59c7e80680e0ac83fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000">Gutschow returned in 1974 with a scholarship to study Bhaktapur, which was also the year the German-supported Bhaktapur Development Project (BDP) got a start. Although many consider that Gutschow himself was part of the project, he says it is a misunderstanding.“I only wrote the first paper to initiate the project,” he adds. “The project went through a tender and we were young people then, we did not compete.”That paper is only a small part of Gutschow’s vast scholarship on Nepal. One of the many people who have <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/remembering-the-kathmandu-we-have-lost,3804" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/remembering-the-kathmandu-we-have-lost,3804&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1635599145454000&amp;usg=AFQjCNGh8sMM2TUnfH-Rq-sLC9OGLvfVBQ">introduced Nepal to Nepalis</a>, he conducted architectural surveys of Gorkha and Nuwakot, Kag and Khyinga (in Mustang) from 1980 to 1988 and from 1990 to 1995. He also studied in greater detail the 19th century temples of Patan, <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/pencilling-in-kathmandu-rajman-singh-chitrakar,3379" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/pencilling-in-kathmandu-rajman-singh-chitrakar,3379&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1635599145454000&amp;usg=AFQjCNFeD3US2WS_CdO-jWiHXfT2UZgC6w">Kathmandu</a> and Deopatan, and Buddhist chaitya to develop a chronology based on stylistic evidence.Further, his documentation and analysis of the urban space and rituals of Bhaktapur, his mapping of the city’s religious and social topography, and his architectural and anthropological research are unparalleled in their significance and impact.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161132/636d19d89c7e80680e0ac840jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="947" height="369"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161132/636d19da9c7e80680e0ac841jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1200" height="1017"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161132/636d19dd9c7e80680e0ac842jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1629" height="1373">He has written three detailed volumes on death rituals (Handling Death), initiation rituals (Growing Up) and marriage rituals (Getting Married) of Newars, with special focus on Bhaktapur. The 3-volume encyclopædic opus Architecture of the Newars, spans the early, Malla and modern times. Another book, The Sky Face studies Kirtimukha – a recurrent iconography of a fierce monster face with huge fangs and gaping mouth – and related creatures in Nepal, South- and Southeast Asian art and architecture.In the 50 years that he has spent in Nepal, Gutschow has also witnessed the steady change and decline of the Valley’s pristine <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/protecting-kathmandus-historic-roofscape/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/protecting-kathmandus-historic-roofscape/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1635599145454000&amp;usg=AFQjCNH3ZS3m3pvF94PuKiF7OAnSi81f9g">landscape</a> into an ugly concrete jungle, which he also documented in his 2012 book, <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19765#.YXqB4VVByJA" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id%3D19765%23.YXqB4VVByJA&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1635599145454000&amp;usg=AFQjCNGRu8irEABYxHUEsLPvoFzWllq58g">The Kathmandu Valley</a>.A meticulous chronicler of change, Gutschow held a deliberately dispassionate tone in the book – subdued and impartial, despite the sadness, telling Nepali Times: “The curiosity I feel about this ongoing development has nothing denunciatory about it. The documentation of the construction sites does reveal a certain crudity, not to say brutality. Its aim is to achieve a largely unemotional presentation of one aspect of reality.”<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161132/636d19e09c7e80680e0ac843jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2048" height="1343"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161132/636d19e39c7e80680e0ac844jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1250" height="1194">Gutschow’s <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/review/towers-in-stone-niels-gutschow,1762" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/review/towers-in-stone-niels-gutschow,1762&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1635599145454000&amp;usg=AFQjCNG4O0PgeSv0XMLeOypVaA1ErzV7Iw">passion and dedication to documentation</a> can also be seen in his house in Bhaktapur – an integral part of his œuvre, a historical record of three decades in bricks and beams, where his research, scholarship and life spent among the people, the rituals, and the festivals of the Newa communities of Bhaktapur culminate, and which he is leaving behind when he returns to Germany.The house stands atop Tajaha Hill (literally ‘a net of snakes’) where snakes are indeed a common feature to this day. Gutschow remembers several large snakes basking in the sun, and some smaller ones in the lotus pond, especially in the monsoon or winter afternoons.Unlike most mythologies in the West, snakes represent strength and rebirth in Buddhism and Hinduism. This feels like an apt analogy, adding to the serene, mythical quality of the house, which itself was rebuilt and reconfigured in 1989 and lived in for 30 years.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161132/636d19e79c7e80680e0ac845jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Narrow bricked steps lead the visitor away from the trail and towards the house, flanked on both sides by a small forest of monkey grass, isicha, willow trees, mugwort and persimmon among others. A small round lotus pool on the right and a kuwa, or a wellspring, on the left are near the entrance.A stone pikhalakhu sits on the ground before the steps leading to the courtyard where a long arcade has been reconfigured after the earthquake. The columns and capital-brackets on top Gutschow bought for the price of firewood. “No one wanted these,” Gutschow says, shaking his head. The carvings depict buffalo eyes, lotus leaves, snake virgins under snake hoods, and the mythical makara aquatic beings.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161132/636d19eb9c7e80680e0ac846jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161132/636d19ee9c7e80680e0ac847jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="767" height="1500">Behind the house stands the Kadam Chörten, a chaitya completed in 2002 to commemorate the passing of the Buddha, and further up is the tall guest house, its roof peeking from behind the fan palm and lapsi. Two giant vermillion circles look ahead from under the roof like eyes keeping watch over the hill, the neighbouring houses and fields.“The earthquake affected this building too, the base twisted,” Gutschow says, demonstrating the jerk and twist with his own body. The door had to be removed and replaced with a wall upon which another giant red circle was plastered with a smaller yellow circle painted inside. When asked about its meaning, Gutschow smiles slyly: “I cannot tell you that, you should come up with your own interpretation.”From the guest house, one can see another tower up ahead which looks as though it is simply a decorative piece. The bricks are of singular styles not seen elsewhere in the house, which were designed by students from Frankfurt.“It was an experiment,” Gutschow says, moving his hand across the jagged motif. The traditional Newa bricks are arranged at the bottom, with a layer of modern rough bricks above, followed by a single line of traditional bricks, above which the Frankfurt-designed bricks sit, and the pattern continues.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161132/636d19f29c7e80680e0ac848jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Three columns stand in the tower – two on one side and one inside a narrow opening opposite. These are unique columns, which came from Pondicherry in India, wide at the base, and tapered rather sharply at the top. The lonely column on the other side is painted red, as is the top of the wall inside. This colour is a recurring motif with Gutschow. “Red is an important colour, almost like my trademark. It is the colour of blood, and especially associated with life and death,” he adds.Red also has ritualistic significance in Hinduism and Buddhism, and is the colour of the sun in mornings and evenings. Gutschow would not reveal the mystery of the coloured circles in the guest house, but perhaps they too represent the same sense of duality: of life and death, of dawn and dusk, of Nepal and Germany.However, Gutschow is cautious with hasty interpretations, since in art they can often allude to a notion of functionality, and an object is reduced simply to its utility. “But form does not need to follow function,” he says as we walk away from the tower towards the house.“The lonely pillar stands in the space as an aesthetic choice, an object to be appreciated as itself,” he says.It is the same with the anthropomorphic façade of his study tower, where two window panels that function as eyes are separated in the middle by a wooden arch which is the nose. Above the eyes, the cornice serves as eyebrows and there in the central axis sits a small block carved into a third eye. This is a prime example of the “impulse to adorn” which features heavily in the architectural practice of Bhaktapur, where decorations serve a pure aesthetic purpose.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161132/636d19f79c7e80680e0ac849jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>After the tour, sitting inside the arcade, Gutschow recounts the Navadurga ritual, which he has been attending for the past 50 years not as a tourist but as an inhabitant of Bhaktapur, belonging to the community. Even then, despite his work, projects and involvement all these years, Gutschow has been coming to Nepal on a tourist visa which covers about five months at a time, and he still has to buy a $15 entry ticket every time he visits Bhaktapur Durbar Square.But, he shrugs: “Now it does not matter anymore.”Gutschow laughs when asked about how he balanced being in Nepal and Germany. “I enjoyed being in two worlds, and being able to work and write in Germany as well as in Nepal meant that when I returned to one of the places, I always returned with new questions.”

Ashish Dhakal

Niels Gutschow leaves home

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141144/636baf039c7e80680e07802ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1329" height="928"/><figcaption>King George V with Prime Minister Chandra Shumshere Rana with a tiger trophy in Chitwan in 1911. Sotheby’s</figcaption></figure>Archiving should be a state responsibility, and Nepal does have a National Archive. But a Nepali working in the Gulf has shown how much can be achieved by just one individual with a passion for history.No one can find the original of the 1816 Sugauli Treaty anywhere. Important historical documents, agreements with Tibet, China and British India are also missing. Many of them probably went up when Singha Darbar caught fire in 1973.Which is why <a href="https://twitter.com/SantoshKhaderi">Santosh Khaderi</a> (pictured below) has taken it upon himself to archive as much as possible of official records, early photographs, letters and ephemera from Nepali history as he can. What started out as a hobby, has now become an important contribution to archiving in Nepal for this 28-year-old Dang native and college dropout.He has been in Abu Dhabi for the past six years, working night shifts. He found so much factually incorrect news about Nepal that he started collecting digital records of the country’s past wherever he could find them on the Internet. Working 6-7 hours during the day, Khaderi has built up a collection that he also shares widely through his Twitter account and with regular well-researched articles in Annapurna Post.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141144/636baf069c7e80680e07802bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="518"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141144/636baf099c7e80680e07802cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="598" height="474">It all started in 2016, as Nepal was reeling from the aftermath of the earthquake and the Indian Blockade. Khaderi found so many falsehoods and half-truths in media reports that he gave himself the mission to preserve history. Once, while watching Indian news channels he came across a documentary about Prime Minister PV Narsimha Rao which delved into archives to tell his story.“The hour-long episode was so in-depth and based on historical documents and records, that I wondered why a Nepali could not make a similar documentary about B P Koirala,” Khaderi said in a phone interview from the UAE.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141144/636baf0b9c7e80680e07802djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="627" height="806"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>This is why, while carrying on his usual work of collecting historical records, he started zooming in on everything he could find on BP, including archival film footage of his funeral procession in Kathmandu in 1984, letters and other documents.“Being away from Nepal has made me value my homeland even more, and to stay in touch while being relevant to my roots and upbringing,” Khaderi says. “In addition, it gives me the opportunity to correct historical inaccuracies, bending of facts, or deliberate lies.”Indeed, his social media posts do not carry that angry tone common to many these days who all bristle with strong opinion about everything. He is not provocatively controversial, he just wants to lay out historical facts based on documents.Khaderi says it is thanks to the corpus of knowledge on the searchable Internet that he can do this work. Without the net it would be immensely complicated since the documents, records, news clips and film footage are scattered around the world.“It’s all there on the net, you just have to know how to search for it,” he says. “But I am limited to material that is in the public domain, I don’t have the money to pay for other content.”Among the rare items in his collection are Rana-era photos, letters written by the palace in Kathmandu to the British in India about the use of Simara airport during World War II, rare clips of Edward VIII, then Prince of Wales with Chandra Shumshere Rana during a hunting trip in Chitwan in 1921, or Tribhuvan’s funeral in Switzerland.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141144/636baf0d9c7e80680e07802ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3715" height="3253"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Khaderi’s archive so far has 600 videos, 700 books and newspaper clips, numerous government letters, even invitation cards from Mohan Shumshere for a diplomatic reception at the Nepal Embassy at Barakhamba Road in New Delhi in 1950.Khaderi has dug up news clips from 100 years ago to piece together Bishnu Shumshere Rana’s affair with a Hollywood dancer, and his eventual death in the Bahamas. What he does not have are photographs of Bishnu Shumshere’s body arriving in Banaras for cremation, which are in the Madan Puraskar Pustakalaya archives in Kathmandu.“It is disappointing that our country does not have any papers related to the Kalapani border issues and whatever news has been printed is just mudslinging between two governments, there are few fact-based statements,” he says.He has also dug up a 27-page booklet on Mohan Shumshere Rana that deals with the 1950 Indo-Nepal Treaty with the newly-independent India. Nepal’s claim to Kalapani is mentioned there too.“I believe that history is now more important than ever, so it is absolutely important for us to have historical evidence from the past. Nepal is at its weakest point now because we never cared about archives as they had vested interest somewhere else,” Khaderi says.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141144/636baf119c7e80680e07802fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2048" height="2881"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Among Khaderi’s archives is correspondence between Indian Ambassador and Prime Minister Nehru in 1950 in which he cites the Royal Nepal Army’s lack of preparedness to deal with external threats. Within two years of Prime Minister Matrika Prasad Koirala’s visit to India in 1952, Indian military communication units were placed at 17 points along the India-Nepal border.Khaderi has also dug up reports filed by Indian military about patrols to Kalapani in 1959 that prove that the Indian Army already had bases there. China had just annexed Tibet, the Dalai Lama had fled to India, and India and China were soon to go to war. But these documents prove that the Indian bases in Kalapani were not allowed there during or after the war, but perhaps as long before as 1956.“Our country and the government has a handful of shortcomings, but the biggest shortcoming is the lack of archives,” Khaderi says. “these should be digitised, stored, and even made public. Hardcopy files can be destroyed, misplaced or even disappear.”Khaderi says he went to the UAE for financial reasons, but he is itching to get back to Nepal where he wants to set up and maintain a historical archive, and what he has collected so far will be the starting point.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141144/636baf149c7e80680e078030jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1117" height="896"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>

Adventures of a lone archivist

Earlier this month, Nepal received Rs1.6 billion from the World Bank as part of its <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/will-nepal-ever-be-paid-for-saving-trees">Forest Carbon Partnership Facility (FCPF)</a>, rewarding the country for increasing its carbon sink capacity. Nepal is the first in South Asia to benefit from this facility, and it is specifically to recompense the country for increasing forest cover in 13 Tarai districts between 2018-2024. “We are also trying to get another Rs13 billion from the facility while also preparing for free market-based carbon trading in the international market,” says Nabaraj Pudasaini of the REDD (Reducing Emissions from Deforestation and Forest Degradation in Developing Countries) Implementation Centre. Big emitters of greenhouse gases are under pressure to reduce their carbon emissions, and many have signed agreements to do so by investing in decarbonisation projects in developing countries. Countries that emit more than a specified amount of carbon would be able to buy emission rights from countries that emit less. Nepal is internationally known for its community forestry program which has been largely credited for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/tree-mendous">increasing tree cover to over 45%</a> in less than three decades. But this achievement had not been adequately recognised or rewarded internationally before. Forests, especially in the tropics, absorb and store large amounts of carbon while releasing oxygen in a process known as photosynthesis. <a href="https://www.fao.org/forest-resources-assessment/en/">Preventing deforestation</a> and increasing canopy cover is considered a much more achievable goal than reducing emission in the scale necessary to limit global average temperature to 1.5°C above pre-industrial levels. COP11 in Montreal in 2005 first proposed reducing carbon emissions by improving forest quality by halting degradation. By 2015, a new mechanism of financial assistance was created to help less developed countries with sustainable management of forests <a href="https://www.un-redd.org/">(called REDD+)</a>. Under this new mechanism, countries receive aid based on their efforts to prevent forest degradation and increase carbon sink, and in 2021 the World Bank was entrusted with implementing it. Nepal’s FCPF receipt this month was calculated on the basis of 2.4 million tons of carbon stored at a rate of $5 per ton. In the second phase, Nepal will receive more than Rs4 billion within the next year for storing an additional 7 million tons of carbon. Eighty per cent of this amount obtained from carbon trading needs to be spent on local beneficiaries and indigenous communities.&nbsp; But carbon trading is not easy, Nepal needs to prove that protected forests will not be destroyed in future.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241121091132_c8a381c9a95aa86fec558951650d97bb87914741f01766982ba2b086af001f16.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20241121091132_c8a381c9a95aa86fec558951650d97bb87914741f01766982ba2b086af001f16" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="999" loading="lazy" alt="Greenbacks for greenery NT "> <figcaption>Photo: KUNDA DIXIT</figcaption> </figure>  Explains carbon trading expert Yugan Manandhar. “Forests should be handed over to the community and shown that they are managed sustainably. Proving this will be particularly challenging; forest encroachment and degradation is rife in the Tarai.” <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/nepal-is-going-up-in-smoke">Deliberate forest fires</a> have also added to the challenge because they increase carbon emissions and reduce the sink capacity of forests. The basis for the amount that Nepal received was set five years ago by calculating the carbon reserves of forests in the 13 Tarai districts. In the meantime, sustainable forest management, tree plantation, forest destruction and erosion control were prioritised to increase carbon reserves in those forests. Nepal is signing another carbon trading agreement during the ongoing Baku climate conference. The <a href="https://www.leafcoalition.org/">Lowering Emissions by Accelerating Forest finance (LEAF Coalition) </a>proposes to sell the carbon stored in the forests of Bagmati, Gandaki and Lumbini provinces. For this, Nepal signed the letter of intent three years ago at COP26 in Glasgow. The target is to store 70 million tons of carbon in 32 million hectares of forest in the three provinces per which Nepal will receive Rs13 billion in four years at $10 per ton with provisions to increase the rate if various conditions are met. However, the agreement in itself doesn’t guarantee the amount. According to the targets set by Nepal, forest degradation should be stopped and carbon reserves increased by protecting tree cover. Preparations are also underway for clean air carbon trade because it has offset fossil fuel use by introducing 30,000 electric vehicles. Nepal has been selected for the first round to receive $40 million within one and a half years through the Clean Air System of the World Bank. Given that most of Nepal’s energy mix is from biomass, replacing them with electric stoves can significantly improve health by reducing indoor pollution as well as strengthen the country’s capacity for carbon trade. “Nepal's goal now is to sell carbon in the free market where carbon credits are bought and sold based on supply and demand in an open and transparent manner,” adds Pudasaini of the REDD Implementation Centre. “Nepal can now set its own price and bargain with interested buyer countries and organisations.” Lately, India has been discussing setting up a carbon market. Nepal has exported Rs12.72 billion worth of electricity to India so far this fiscal year, which can be traded under Nepal’s carbon market. “Carbon trading can create significant economic benefits for Nepal, which will help reinvest in development and environmental protection projects,” says Manandhar. “But we must prioritise sustainable management of forests, cutting older trees and allowing regrowth as well as promoting electric stoves and electric vehicles.”

Greenbacks for greenery

Khukri Rum is <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=3719#.WurBk6SFPIU">one of Nepal’s most iconic brands</a>, and is now launching a new Cask Series premium product to sell in Nepal and abroad. The Cask Series Smoked Finish Khukri Rum is a limited edition with only about 7,000 bottles, most of it for export and rest to be sold to rum connoisseurs in Nepal itself. Each bottle is numbered and will mention the cask from which it is derived. “We are working on taking a classic Nepali rum to a new luxury premium brand category, the Cask Series will only be produced this year with new product ranges in future,” explains Subash Lamichhane, managing director of Nepal Distilleries that first started making Khukri rum in 1959 in Balaju and has never stopped. Fermented from molasses in Bara district in the Tarai after the annual sugarcane harvest, the rum is matured for at least eight months during distillation. The distillery bottles the classic Khukri XXX, Coronation Khukri XXX, Khukri White Rum and Khukri Spiced Rum.&nbsp; The distillery is now adding this limited edition of its ‘Cask Series’. While the original rum is stored in huge wooden vats, the rum used for this more exclusive line is in smaller casks made either from oak or sal, with charred insides to give the rum a smoky flavour. The Cask Series rum is indeed smokier than the classic, while the spiced rum tastes toasty and mostly of cardamom. The company has a tasting suite with a master blender and tasters who have to approve the palate test.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241122131124_10b8ddca93b37b0348bf964b4f09e7fac6ef4e754cca6231368850539cd558e2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20241122131124_10b8ddca93b37b0348bf964b4f09e7fac6ef4e754cca6231368850539cd558e2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1498" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Khukri Rum"> </figure>  The packaging for the Cask Series is as special as the process. A sturdy patterned box that opens up to a black glass bottle with gold lettering, and an indication of which cask the rum is from. These are then shipped to premium customers around the world One of the reasons this is the more expensive premium line is because the casks are smaller than the vats and the blenders reject more than half of the rum in the casks when the aging period is complete. The trick for the blender is also to decide when to take the run out of the cask.&nbsp; Says Lamichhane: “If we have 25 casks, we expect to throw away about fifteen.”Over the decades, Nepal Distilleries have created and maintained a brand that feels quintessentially Nepali, and has served as Nepal’s ‘ambassador’ with exports to Germany, Korea, Belgium, Finland, the Czech Republic, besides the existing markets among Nepalis in the US, UK, Hong Kong and Australia. &nbsp;Its unique <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/khukri-rum-sharpens-its-act">khukri shaped bottle</a> first introduced for King Birendra’s coronation in 1975 has been a collector’s item. The bottle and rum have been a staple for Nepalis and visitors to take as gifts when they leave the country, and is used as decoration on bar tables around the world. Now, nearly 40 years later, even that bottle will soon be getting a makeover with a sharper design and sleeker handle. “Our bottle design has always been instantly recognisable, and it is,” says Lamichhane. The Himalayan restaurant at The Hague, for example, has a Khukri Coronation bottle adorning its bar (page 6-7). In Washington DC Himalayan Heritage Restaurant &amp; Bar offers ‘Nepalese Khukri Rum’ mojito in its drinks menu with fresh mint, soda water, lime juice and sugar syrup, for $12.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241122131124_b9474db3fc83c85845348dddc30c49652ee1f17229531867fa241de50849cedc.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20241122131124_b9474db3fc83c85845348dddc30c49652ee1f17229531867fa241de50849cedc" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Khukri Rum NT"> <figcaption>Christopher Armes, master blender of the Cask Series.</figcaption> </figure>  A distinct element of the award-winning <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/business/khukri-rum-gets-award">classic Khukri rum</a> is its burgundy colour from caramel sourced from cooking sugar and blended with the raw rum. The spirits are then stored in a warehouse with floor-to-ceiling vats. The vats are not just for storage, the wood in the vats imparts flavour into the rum, and removes a lot of the harshness. &nbsp; On a visit this week, the bottling room was just about to begin for the day and the production line was churning out different shapes and sizes of Khukri Rum bottles. Most of the process is automated, including screwing bottle caps, sticking labels, placing the government seal, and packaging. The only manual intervention is the quality control where bottles are held against the light to check for sediment and colour. A mural on the wall of the distillery in Balaju depicts the rum-making process. A lady slings sugarcane on her shoulder, the molasses is churned in a pot, water is channelled into the distillation process, cinnamon, cloves and cardamom are added to a container, and finally there is a bottle of the classic Khukri Rum against a Kathmandu backdrop.

Khukri goes premium with new rum

Turkish Airlines has introduced a new amenity kit collection designed in collaboration with French fashion house Lanvin for international business class passengers on flights more than five hours. It consists of five pieces designed for sustainability and elegance. Bags are reusable and will consist of Lanvin cosmetic products like hand and body lotions and lip balm. Eye masks and socks are made from recycled materials, earplugs are packaged in paper and the toothbrush is bamboo.

Turkish amenity kit

Nepal now generates a surplus of electricity and it is all from renewable hydropower. Nearly half the country is under forest cover. Despite meeting these decarbonisation goals, Nepal’s hydropower plants are threatened by increased risk due to climate impact.&nbsp; Till <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/when-it-rains-it-pours-ksqprbu3">28 September</a>, Nepal was <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/india-nepal-sign-power-exchange-deal">exporting just over 1,000MW</a> of electricity to power-hungry India, when flash floods and landslides unleashed by historically heavy rains damaged over 30 hydropower plants across the country, temporarily <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/power-to-the-people">slashing nearly half the power generation.</a> The 456MW Upper Tamakosi in Dolakha was the hardest hit and it will take six months and Rs2 billion to repair. This has significantly reduced exports as well as domestic generation. Two months later, Nepal has still not been unable to fully keep its export commitment, and is actually paying Rs100 million in fines to India. Thirty-seven existing and under construction projects under the Independent Power Producers' Association Nepal (IPPAN) suffered Rs2.5 billion in damage. One of them is the 22MW Bagmati project in Makwanpur which was almost completely buried in flood debris. Even before <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/60-dead-64-missing-in-nepal-floods">record-breaking rain in September</a>, 15 other hydropower projects had been damaged by floods. Last year, floods caused by heavy localised rain damaged 28 hydropower plants. World governments met in Baku for COP29 to discuss the Loss &amp; Damage Fund and the Adaptation Fund, but for countries like Nepal the commas and brackets are meaningless until they are turned into $ and €. And likelihood of adequate compensation for climate-related damage is a long way off, if ever. Nepal’s national strategy is to use its vast hydropower resource as clean energy to spur economic growth, job creation, and boost export revenue. But the plants are located in narrow Himalayan valleys prone to landslides and floods even at the best of times. Now, those <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/changing-climate-for-investment-in-nepal">risks have been heightened by weather extremes</a> due to climate breakdown. At present, Nepal generates over 3,300MW of clean hydropower, and the target is to reach 12,700MW in the next five years. Projects equivalent to 6,000MW are under construction or ready to start. The Ministry of Energy, Water Resources and Irrigation has an Energy Development Roadmap and Action Plan with the target of producing 28,500MW by 2035 by when more than half of it will be exported.&nbsp; “The climate crisis will further change the rainfall patterns making hydropower generation a big question mark in the future,” Manjeet Dhakal in Baku, who is also the Nepali adviser to the LDC Chair at the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC). “We are building hydropower projects on rivers without evaluating risk. This whole process needs to be reviewed and reconsidered.” The report of the National Adaptation Plan published by the Ministry of Forest and Environment last year mentions that hydropower production, transmission and distribution will be at risk from flash floods, debris flows, glacial lake outbursts and rising temperatures.&nbsp; This risk is not confined to Nepal. Average global temperatures have increased by 1.3°C compared to the pre-industrial era. Worse, the Himalayan mountains are warming faster than the global average by 0.7°C because of elevation-dependent warming. A study conducted by our own Department of Hydrology and Meteorology in 2017 showed that the average temperature in Nepal has increased in the last four decades. Scientists say this is leading to extreme weather unleashing floods and landslides on slopes already destabilized by seismicity.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241124071128_d22901a360e8958f606d80ffa21defba05a671f65afec65539dc21a6885d8345.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20241124071128_d22901a360e8958f606d80ffa21defba05a671f65afec65539dc21a6885d8345" data-rendition-name="original" width="1333" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Right climate for Nepal’s energy transition NT"> <figcaption>BIBLICAL RAIN: Photo taken during catastrophic rain on 27-28 September at the Upper Tamakosi project site that destroyed the control room, killing four staff and burying the sedimentation tanks. Photo: RSS</figcaption> </figure>  Increased atmospheric temperatures has made the monsoon rains more erratic. It does not rain when it is supposed to, and it comes down in torrents when it is not supposed to. The September floods happened two weeks after the monsoon was supposed to retreat from central Nepal. Kathmandu Valley received half its annual precipitation in just over a day. &nbsp; Winter precipitation has also failed, especially in the high mountains and trans-Himalayan valleys. Thirteen of the past 19 years experienced winter drought. This impacts on dry season flows of the rivers, reducing hydropower generation. Nepal’s power capacity normally goes down by one-fourth during winter, but the gap is widening. The Kabeli corridor could only generate 20MW November-March even though plants there have an installed capacity of 200MW. Similarly, Upper Tamakosi only produced 65MW at most against its 456MW capacity last winter. The Nepal Electricity Authority (NEA) pays producers double the price for winter electricity, Rs8.40 per unit. Even though winter operation is highly profitable the rivers run low and NEA has to import from India to meet the winter demand. “This is not just a weather problem but a serious challenge also for the country's energy future, good climate-friendly design should be combined with policy and effective implementation,” says Subarna Das Shrestha, a hydropower investor and CEO of Sanima Mai Hydropower. “Insurance premiums have gone up as well, and settlement for damage is not timely.” <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/climate-risk-to-hydropower-investment">Hydropower investment</a> at one time was regarded as having a high rate of return. Now, some investors have become <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/climate-smarter-himalayan-infrastructure">wary of the risks involved</a>. Says IPPAN’s Uttam Blon Lama: “Hydropower projects expected to give stable returns are now looking risky. Not only is climate adaptation design and planning expensive, but future repair and maintenance costs will also skyrocket.” Nepal has only one storage type dam <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/rivers-be-dammed">in Kulekhani</a> and another one is being built in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/missing-pieces-of-the-hydropower-jigsaw">Tanahu</a>, but they are also at risk. In September, the sluice gates of Kulekhani Dam had to be opened causing loss of life and destruction downstream. Nepal has to learn lessons from the deadly collapse of the $1 billion <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/sikkim-flood-is-warning-to-nepal">Chungthang Dam in Sikkim</a> in October 2023 cause by a glacial lake burst. Glacial Lake Outburst Floods (GLOFs) in Nepal pose potentially catastrophic risk to infrastructure. The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/lives-on-the-line-in-the-himalaya">Thame flood in August</a> was a relatively minor debris flow that damaged half of this village in the Everest region when <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/climate-breakdown-linked-to-thame-flood">two glacial lakes at 4,760m burst</a>. Luckily there was no loss of life. Of the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/lives-on-the-line-in-the-himalaya">47 high-risk glacial lakes</a> in the eastern Nepal Himalaya, 21 are in Nepal and the rest are in rivers in China that are tributaries of the Arun and Bhote Kosi where Nepal has major hydropower plants under construction, or planned.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241123021128_b596cd8520c57a6c5476031e7a3ea6510f26b464c4d5351d2bc10f6f7d6b70d8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_14" data-image-id="20241123021128_b596cd8520c57a6c5476031e7a3ea6510f26b464c4d5351d2bc10f6f7d6b70d8" data-rendition-name="original" width="871" height="648" loading="lazy" alt="Page 10-11 map #1236 NT"> </figure>  Global temperature rise is accelerating the melting of Himalayan snow and ice, increasing the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/living-below-nepal-s-melting-mountains">number and size of glacial lakes</a> so that we do not even have names for them. Imja Tso did not even exist in the old trekking maps until 25 years ago, but is now a 2km long lake. “Natural moraine dams in the mountains are weak, and the projects downstream can face major destruction if they burst, and the risk will only increase in future,” warns climatologist Arun Bhakta Shrestha at the <a href="https://www.icimod.org/">International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development (ICIMOD)</a>. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/terrifying-assessment-of-a-himalayan-melting">An ICIMOD assessment in 2019</a> projected that if present heating trends continue, as they probably will, the Himalaya will lose two-thirds of our glaciers by the end of this century. “Generally speaking, hydropower developers hand over the project to the government after 30 years but by that time given the climate risks, they may not be an asset anymore,” says Manjeet Dhakal. Indeed, the cascade of expensive projects India is building on the Arun River are supposed to be handed back to Nepal in 25 years, but there is a big ‘if’ about whether they will survive that long. &nbsp;&nbsp; Planning of hydropower projects is still based on historical hydrological data, and does not take into account future temperature rise and its consequences. Investors, on the other hand, say that planning hydropower projects with climate components would make them even more expensive.&nbsp; “It’s not that we aren’t preparing for climate risk, we design keeping in mind the once-in-100-year flood,” says Blon of IPPAN. “But if we start designing based on once in 1,000 years flood, the cost would be so high that we won’t be able to build them at all.” Nonetheless, Subarna Das Shrestha of Sanima Mai Hydropower says that there is no option but to go for climate smart infrastructure despite the higher cost. Sanima Mai's powerhouse, for example, is completely underground. The strategy could also be to spread the risk by building less expensive plants located on rivers all over the country. Nepal is also diversifying away from its sole reliance on hydroelectricity, which at present supplies 92% of the power in the grid. Most of the rest comes from solar plants, where the total potential has not even been scratched. &nbsp; This article is brought to you by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/" target="_blank">Nepali Times</a>, in collaboration with <a href="https://inpsjapan.com/en/" target="_blank">INPS Japan</a> and <a href="https://sgi-peace.org/" target="_blank">Soka Gakkai International</a>, in consultative status with UN ECOSOC.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240630110640_30c3782f9c09219bf1c249b51483a3cfb7a53a06d117d2aebd23ca7080d12758.jpg" data-media-id="editor_21" data-image-id="20240630110640_30c3782f9c09219bf1c249b51483a3cfb7a53a06d117d2aebd23ca7080d12758" data-rendition-name="original" width="680" height="103" loading="lazy" alt="SDG logo"> </figure>  &nbsp;