<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111412118/637222569c7e80680e0c02eejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1001"/><figcaption>Madan Puraskar Pustakalaya. Photos: ABARI</figcaption></figure>It was 2AM on 11 June when a 4.7 magnitude earthquake shook Kathmandu residents from their sleep, but it is doubtful if it will jolt many out of the complacency about seismic risk.The tremor did not cause any damage, but it brought back memories of the 2015 earthquake, and forced some to reflect on the safety of Kathmandu’s buildings. The 2015 quake that saw the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/A-concrete-future,2251">collapse of predominantly brick, mud, and mortar buildings</a>, feeding public perception that concrete structures are more durable.However civil engineers and architects say technologies like rammed earth would be environmentally more sustainable and earthquake-resilient. But reinforced concrete is preferred, with Nepal’s domestic cement production more than tripling from 3 million tonnes to 10 million tonnes in the six years since the earthquake.By coincidence on the day of the 11 June quake, rammed earth architects gathered for a workshop in Patan to take stock of progress so far.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111412118/637222599c7e80680e0c02efjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="750" height="1124">Rammed earth construction uses locally-sourced soil often combined with gravel and reinforced with steel bars and limited concrete. It involves no machinery and therefore less emission, a contrast to brick kilns that contribute heavily to Kathmandu’s pollution. Materials are also largely sourced locally, which reduces both cost of transportation and fossil fuels.Narayan Acharya, the director of Sustainable Future Nepal, built his own house in Kathmandu with locally-sourced materials and rammed earth techniques. He has now built 10 more structures in Kathmandu Valley.“It is warm in the winter and cool for the monsoon, we should promote that all over Nepal,” says Acharya, adding that rammed earth structures are both sustainable, comfortable and retain the traditional Newa style. While the walls are made of soil and other material, the structures are resistant to monsoon weather. He also has a built-in water recycling system and a biogas tank.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111412118/6372225c9c7e80680e0c02f0jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Rammed earth projects have been particularly successful in Nepal’s rural environments. In 2020, the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/bayalpata-hospital-in-nepal-wins-global-design-award/">Bayalpata Hospital</a> in Accham was built with rammed earth technology and won international design awards. Despite these successes, rammed earth structures have yet to establish a hold in Kathmandu.“There are not as many rammed earth structures in Kathmandu proper,” explains Tyler Survant, an architect and founder of Better Building Bureau, alongside Anna Leshnick.One reason for the lack of rammed earth structures in Kathmandu is the misconception that mud mortar buildings are weaker. In 2015, the majority of fallen buildings in the earthquake were brick and <a href="https://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s10518-020-00834-y">mud mortar</a>. But those fallen buildings were not built with rammed earth techniques, and many violated building codes.“They do not believe mud is strong enough,” says Acharya about rammed earth structures. “It is important to overcome that misconception.”<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111412118/6372225f9c7e80680e0c02f1jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2000" height="855"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Experts warn that public <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/A-concrete-future,2251">confidence in concrete</a> construction is misleading. “Do not believe for a second that concrete won’t be impacted in an earthquake,” says Jharna Joshi, an architect and professor at Kathmandu University. <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/concrete-lessons-of-2015/">Even a slightly longer or more intense earthquake </a>could have also brought down concrete structures in 2015.According to Survant, current building codes limit rammed earth structures to two and a half stories, making them less popular in a dense, city environment that builds upwards even though rammed earth buildings can go up to three stories.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/quake-was-a-learning-experience-for-nepals-schools/">Quake was a learning experience for Nepal’s schools</a>, Prakriti Kandel<a href="https://kathmandupost.com/valley/2015/10/28/govt-brings-new-building-bylaws">Building codes require adjacent residential buildings, even in concrete, to not exceed three stories</a>, but contractors often add additional floors on top of existing structures. “There is a building code, but people do not follow the rules. And since land is very expensive, some build six stories to not lose any value.”Acharya says his rammed earth structures did not crack in the last earthquake. Earth buildings are used internationally and historically, with structures found in Chile, India, Nepal, and Iran. “Earth structures have been part of vernacular for millenia, and they have tested it,” says Survant, explaining that rammed earth structures use reinforced ring beams, steel bars, and up to 10% concrete that interlock the earth walls.“The concrete and rebar is providing the same support, but with far far less concrete and using local materials,” he adds.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111412118/637222629c7e80680e0c02f2jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="844"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Rammed earth’s costs come from its added insulation, and the experienced builders required, including a structural engineer. It also reduces other financial and environmental costs. There is far less transport of concrete to a building site, and no brick production in polluting kilns.“If you calculate all the costs, it is competitive, this can be cheaper,” says Acharya. “And rammed earth is not just for the short term, it is built to last.”Rammed earth’s materials are unlikely to contribute to future waste and environmental impact because when demolished, the material can be reused.Joshi explains that after the 1934 earthquake, Kathmandu was rebuilt with traditional timber salvaged from previous structures. After 2015, most buildings are now concrete. “We need to upcycle existing materials. If you build in concrete, there is no way you can reuse those materials,” she adds.Read more: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepals-traditional-seismic-resistant-designs/">Nepal’s traditional seismic resistant designs</a>, Sheilin Teo

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Foundations for sustainable buildings in Nepal

<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108111156/636a36199c7e80680e0482eajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1300" height="950"/>One of the lessons not learnt from the earthquake four years ago is the possibility to re-use and up-cycle bricks, metal and timber for reconstruction instead of buying expensive imported material. But it is still not too late.Traditionally, Nepalis have <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/learning-from-nepals-past-to-rebuild-its-future/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">reused building material for temples</a>, or homes, salvaging and recycling them after every earthquake in the past. Nearly 700,000 houses went down in the 2015 quakes, leaving a huge amount of stone, <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Building,370" target="_blank" rel="noopener">bricks, useful mud mortar, timber and roof tiles.</a><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108111156/636a361c9c7e80680e0482ebjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="454">In the immediate aftermath of the earthquake on 25 April 2015, survivors quickly built temporary shelters made of bamboo, tarpaulins, planks, corrugated steel sheets and anything else available. Relief agencies supplied corrugated steel sheets, some of which were barely 0.2mm thick and could be bent into semi-circles to make shelters.Read also:<a style="letter-spacing: 0.15px; font-weight: bold; background-color: #ffffff;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=25092&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Lessons Unlearnt</a>, Editorial<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=25101&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepal's traditional seismic resistant designs</a>, Sheilin Teo<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/tall-order/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Tall order</a>, Sewa Bhattarai and Prakriti Kandel<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108111156/636a361d9c7e80680e0482ecjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="823" height="772"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108111156/636a361f9c7e80680e0482edjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="807" height="915"><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108111156/636a36229c7e80680e0482eejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="481"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Soon, the temperature in the low valleys rose to 36oC, and the space under the metal became ovens. Temporary schools also overheated, and there were reports of children dehydrating and fainting. Once the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/monsoon-challenging-for-a-post-earthquake-Nepal,2280" target="_blank" rel="noopener">monsoon</a> came, the sound of rain on the tin roofs made teaching impossible. Strong winds tore the paper-thin steel sheets loose, turning them into flying guillotines.Poor families had no other option than to stay in their <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/thebrief/2015/05/12/moving-to-safer-shelters/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">temporary makeshift houses</a>, turning a large part of Central Nepal into slums. These were not homes.Our Sustainable Mountain Architecture (SMA) team came up with an alternative design for transitional homes, made from salvaged material and locally grown bamboo or thatch. The base of the single-storey house is a thick, heavy stone wall; the main structure re-uses <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/community-forest-comes-in-handy-earthquake-reconstruction,2927" target="_blank" rel="noopener">timber</a> columns, beams and rafters of the family house that came down.The top part of the walls and the roof are made of lighter material, the horizontal timber tie beams had new metal wires to act as stabilising cross-bracing so they were stronger. Salvaged planks or bamboo, and the compulsory involvement of family members in the building process guaranteed ownership of the transitional homes built for only Rs40,000 each.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=25110&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Shaking up the health sector</a>, Sewa Bhattarai<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=25119&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Quake was a learning experience for Nepal’s schools</a>, Prakriti Kandel<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108111156/636a36259c7e80680e0482efjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1170" height="886"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108111156/636a36279c7e80680e0482f0jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1297" height="918">However, after relief money was allocated for the removal of material from ruined houses excellent raw material that could have been used for construction were taken away. Once the government got its act together, it dictated the usage of concrete.Heaps of local building material was wasted, while salvaged timber started to rot in the rain. Families who could afford it started building reinforced concrete houses. This has been a boom time for the cement and rebar industry. Brick infill walls were made in concrete structures, providing business to polluting brick kilns baking Kathmandu’s fertile topsoil. All this new building material had to be transported by trucks spewing black soot.A more permanent design by the SMA team used salvaged material from a collapsed building to make a two-storey model house at the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/community-forest-comes-in-handy-earthquake-reconstruction,2927" target="_blank" rel="noopener">ICIMOD</a> Knowledge Park in Godavari, to demonstrate quake-resistance design for rural Nepal.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepal-is-being-loved-to-death/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepal is being loved to death</a>, Anil Chitrakar<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nirmala-pariyars-2nd-life/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nirmala Pariyar's 2nd life</a>, Ramu Sapkota<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108111156/636a362a9c7e80680e0482f1jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="800" height="879">For retaining warmth in winter, the house — at 1,500m — uses a south-facing asymmetrical saddle roof for passive solar energy gain. While most buildings in Nepal are now using thin, 0.25mm corrugated steel sheet for the roof, we looked for a more robust solution, re-using bottoms of scrap tar drums 60cm in diameter and 1.2mm thick. The completed house rests on a concrete ring beam, the only place where cement is used.The upper floor is lightweight with timber structure and double wattle and daub walls. These jut out slightly from the lower stone wall with timber tie reinforcements. The largest upper floor span of 6m is made by one steel I-beam, to conserve trees.Sapana Shakya and Aman Raj Khatakho are architects with Sustainable Mountain Architecture, a Nepali non-profit founded by Anne Feenstra, a Laureate of the Global Award for Sustainable Architecture 2012 (Paris) to promote innovative pro-people, pro-ecology, pro-local building techniques.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108111156/636a362d9c7e80680e0482f2jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1154" height="666"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108111156/636a362f9c7e80680e0482f3jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1153" height="896">BEST USE IS REUSEPost-earthquake most buildings tend to use reinforced concrete because of the misconception that houses built with traditional techniques and materials will not be strong.However, with innovation and the right design, the non-profit Sustainable Mountain Architecture has built this model house that uses local material and style to build durable and eco-friendly homes.This model house is easily replicable, uses local labour and technology, and salvaged material.The windows and doors of the model house face south. The southern wall is taller, which means the house gets plenty of sun in winter. The passive solar energy that enters the house is trapped in the walls. Double glazing on windows prevents heat from escaping.

Building back cheaper and stronger

<figure><img width="800" height="1067" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108111156/636a360a9c7e80680e0482e4jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>ANASTYLOSIS: Decorated resting platform (pati) in Kathmandu being rebuilt using traditional materials and methods. Photos: SHEILIN TEO</figcaption></figure>After the April 2015 earthquake, the National Reconstruction Authority (NRA) released two manuals to address the repair and retrofit of masonry and reinforced concrete structures. Later, it added an updated guideline for masonry structures. The NRA advisory is consistent with international approaches for earthquake-resistant houses, with a focus on using new, commercial products available in the construction market. But we can also learn a lot from Kathmandu Valley’s <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/learning-from-nepals-past-to-rebuild-its-future/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">historical building traditions</a> about alternative designs.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108111156/636a360d9c7e80680e0482e5jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="454">There are many ways of building resilience into structures, but the most historically prevalent and still important today is flexibility. Strong but flexible jointing of ductile and appropriately-sized structural members that hold a building together allow it to sway with movement loads during an earthquake, making it less likely to collapse. Read also: <a style="background-color: #ffffff; letter-spacing: 0.15px; font-weight: bold;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=25092&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Lessons Unlearnt</a>, Editorial<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=25102&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Building back cheaper and stronger</a>, Sapana Shakya and Aman Raj Khatakho<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/tall-order/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Tall order</a>, Sewa Bhattarai and Prakriti Kandel <figure><img width="800" height="800" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108111156/636a360e9c7e80680e0482e6jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Such design is seen in old timber-framed  and intricately jointed buildings in Japan and China, and also in structures across Nepal. For example, roof rafters are jointed to ridge poles and wall plates to allow a pivoting motion that helps isolate the roof structure from the rest of the building in case of ground movement. Traditionally, buildings in Nepal were constructed with timber and brick walls. Timber is now a scarce resource, and masonry has fallen out of favour in the face of the militant march of concrete. From the plains to the mountains, buildings were made of stone, timber, mud, bricks, thatch and tiles.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=25110&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Shaking up the health sector</a>, Sewa Bhattarai<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=25119&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Quake was a learning experience for Nepal’s schools</a>, Prakriti Kandel <figure><img width="800" height="1000" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108111156/636a36109c7e80680e0482e7jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Just as the frames and jointing were made to be flexible, the walls were thick, rigid and robust, which is another stabilisation technique. These days, because building with <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/A-concrete-future,2251" target="_blank" rel="noopener">concrete</a> and bricks means walls are thinner and weaker, corner ties and banding can help keep flimsier walls intact. Other earthquake-resilient building techniques include lightweight roofing, which in the past was done with wood and bamboo sub-structures to thatched roofs — especially in the Tarai — and triangulation, seen today in trusses and pitched forms, traditional Newari scroll capitals and decorated tundaal (struts).At a seminar this month on seismic risk organised by the National Society for Earthquake Technology and the United States Geological Survey, experts said Nepal had a strong tradition of resilient construction.<a style="background-color: #ffffff; letter-spacing: 0.01em; font-size: 15px;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nirmala-pariyars-2nd-life/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nirmala Pariyar's 2nd life</a>, Ramu Sapkota <figure><img width="1200" height="1500" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108111156/636a36139c7e80680e0482e8jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Modern skyscrapers in earthquake-prone places like Tokyo use base isolation to counter seismic movement. The Nyatapola Temple in Bhaktapur, Nepal’s tallest, has similarly stood the test of time and two massive earthquakes by combining base isolation with triangulation. The ziggurat form that supports the five-storey <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/community-forest-comes-in-handy-earthquake-reconstruction,2927" target="_blank" rel="noopener">timber</a> and brick tower is essentially a robust plinth, separating the sacred relic and its towering housing from the shaking, while providing ample seating for the beautiful carved guardians of the venerated god.Read also: <a style="font-weight: bold; letter-spacing: 0.01em; background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepal-is-being-loved-to-death/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepal is being loved to death</a>, Anil ChitrakarBut just as important as <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/reconstruction-and-resilience-2/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">building resilience</a> into a structure is caring for it. In the past, buildings lived and breathed within settlements, cared for on a daily basis, and would fall apart if neglected. Ritual care, for example yearly renovations for Dasain, ensure that homes and community buildings are regularly maintained and kept intact, and thus less prone to falling apart in the event of a natural disaster.In the old towns of the Kathmandu Valley, <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Monumental-loss,2215" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Newari dwellings and temples</a> were built with both tensile and rigid elements — timber, bricks and clay clustered together in courtyard configuration, each courtyard effectively creating braced squares that are more capable of withstanding shakes.  <figure><img width="1500" height="1500" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108111156/636a36169c7e80680e0482e9jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Similarly, communities in the high <a style="background-color: #ffffff; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/a-terrifying-assessment-of-himalayan-melting/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Himalaya</a> build settlements one atop another into a hillside, or side by side on contours in maze-like configuration. These buildings, rising from the ground as an agglomerated system of dwellings, are a breathtaking symbol of communities leaning on one another, in a telling, enduring tradition of deep-rooted resilience. Building ResilienceFlexibility/shock absorbency (timber, steel, pinned joints, hydraulicised mud mortars)Rigidity/integrity/banding/corner reinforcements/buttresses (thick masonry walls, rammed earth, interlocking blocks, corner reinforcements, symmetry, opening sizes + locations)Base isolation (dampers, deep foundations, robust plinths)Bracing/triangulation/shear walls/lateral loading/banding (struts, capitals, corbels, lintels, top plates, reinforced concrete or timber banding, metal ties, plywood bracing wall panels)Lightweight Roofs (metal sheet, thatch, shingles, bituminous tiles)

Nepal’s traditional seismic resistant designs

The dawn air in Muktikot is dewy as the sun sets over the horizon in the mountains of western Nepal. A sad farewell song drifts across the village from a mud plastered house.&nbsp; Rani BK sings a half melody, half lament: “I feel like my own hands are being cut off as you leave.” She is bidding farewell to her youngest brother, 37-year-old Ranne, his wife Akashe. They are going to Bangalore in India to find work. Neighbours gather quietly in the gathering light, some wiping their eyes, others joining in song. “Please, don’t cry,” Ranne says softly. “These tears will haunt us on the journey.” Migration is not new to Muktikot, but the tears are. For decades, nearly every household here has sent its men to India every winter to work. They return in spring to plant their crops.&nbsp; What is new is that women like Akashe BK are now also going, and for longer periods. The couple is leaving their two of their children behind, and will be away for at least five years.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260203130224_f8d2d5980da1f3c1e22944003969d64cffd10f280c523ab207f983ef42b4cb9b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260203130224_f8d2d5980da1f3c1e22944003969d64cffd10f280c523ab207f983ef42b4cb9b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1067" loading="lazy" alt="women migrating"> <figcaption>Daughter and son left behind with Rani BK after departure.</figcaption> </figure>  Ranne has been a daily wage labourer since he was 17, moving across Nepal and different parts of northern India. This journey is different — it will be to southern India.&nbsp; He had borrowed Rs50,000 from a local lender to cover the travel cost, hoping to recoup it from his earnings as a security guard. Aakashe plans to work as a household helper.&nbsp; “We would not go if we have a choice,” Aakase says quietly, her eyes fixed on “We are forced to leave our children. We cannot afford to educate them, there is little to eat here, no water, no work, no electricity.” Their daughter Sitala, 12, and son Dipson, 10, put auspicious red tika on their parents’ foreheads. Aakase sobs as she asks relatives to look after their children and their house.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260203130224_a6316df8ff8a7f95d963396f2a01a7549dca3dcc1ac0364763eecd9f29b7bed7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260203130224_a6316df8ff8a7f95d963396f2a01a7549dca3dcc1ac0364763eecd9f29b7bed7" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1067" loading="lazy" alt="women migrating"> <figcaption>Departure of Ranne BK.</figcaption> </figure>  “We may return by the time you finish school,” Ranne tells Sitala, who is in Grade 6. Sitala stands forlorn by herself, not saying anything. Across Muktikot, women who once stayed back to raise children and manage households now join their husbands in India to support families in these remote mountains of western Nepal.&nbsp; Unnati BK, 30, and her husband Barune BK decided to migrate to India after their home was damaged by landslides in 2021 and the family was nearly killed. The arid farms did not produce enough food as rains failed. “Nothing grows here,” says Unnati, who is also leaving for Bangalore with her husband, along with Ranne and Akashe.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260203130228_50db0f2d1827584bc9aa6d19d7d79b385ea1211192ccfc1f1147b245c941912e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260203130228_50db0f2d1827584bc9aa6d19d7d79b385ea1211192ccfc1f1147b245c941912e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1067" loading="lazy" alt="women migrating"> <figcaption>Unnati BK</figcaption> </figure>  After 54 families lost their homes in landslides four years ago, the district administration has set aside Rs500,000 for families including Unnati and Barune. But although nearly complete, they have received only Rs175,000 each. Unnati had realised and told her husband that if they stayed in the village, their sorrows would multiply. So they planned to leave, hoping that a little extra hardship in India would allow them to pay for the education of their three children, who are 11, eight, and six years old. “We chose Bangalore because relatives told us it is easy to find jobs there for both men and women,” Barune says. They plan to leave their children with Unnati’s parents for now, and later send them 250km away to Kailali to attend school.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260203130228_3ee37136e936fe7dba7d1320452c83a17f08805663a7cbb4b6efa986c79147ed.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260203130228_3ee37136e936fe7dba7d1320452c83a17f08805663a7cbb4b6efa986c79147ed" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1067" loading="lazy" alt="women migrating"> <figcaption>Landslide four years ago caused 54 families to lose their homes.</figcaption> </figure>  More than 75 couples from 350 households in Muktikot have left for cities like Mumbai and Bangalore in the past three years alone, leaving behind their children either with their in-laws or in the Tarai cities where they go to school. Ajay Kumar BK, chair of the rural municipality of Muktikot says, “There is a clear intention to leave the village altogether.” &nbsp; Diksha BK, 25, has three sons aged six, three, and one. Her husband Dhirjan works in Surkhet. She and her husband have given up on Muktikot, saying they see no future there. DISASTER-PRONE Muktikot is populated mostly by Dalit families, and used to be named Dumkot after a derogatory term used by higher caste people for Dalits. During the Maoist conflict, many Dalit boys joined the guerrillas and the rebels renamed it Muktikot, meaning ‘freedom’.&nbsp; The village clings to a steep mountain flank wrinkled with rain-fed farm terraces. Many of the men who have left for India have never come back, and now even the women are leaving. The 2020 Disaster Preparedness and Response Plan of Bajura identifies Muktikot as a disaster-prone area, making its rain-fed agriculture vulnerable to droughts. The denuded slopes above are at risk of landslides.&nbsp; The 2021 International Migration in Nepal report counted 13,482 people migrating to India from Bajura alone that year. There are an estimated 3.5 million Nepalis living and working in Nepal — mostly from the western mountains.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260203130228_df4f333c7a5bc0b0a7fd75ae6c2e9f02444a097fc5b13c24dc61a276ea6ac3ff.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260203130228_df4f333c7a5bc0b0a7fd75ae6c2e9f02444a097fc5b13c24dc61a276ea6ac3ff" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1067" loading="lazy" alt="women migrating"> <figcaption>Houses being built under resettlement plan.</figcaption> </figure>  National Environment and Equity Development Society (NEEDS) Nepal found that 70% of households in Sudhurpaschim Province have had at least one member migrating to India at some point in their lives. “Female migration used to be low, but there is now an observable trend of women migrating for work from Sudhurpaschim,” says Prakash Madai of NEEDS Nepal. However, anthropologist Jeevan R Sharma says female migration is not new, what is different is the scale and duration of women migrants. Increasing demand for part-time household help in India makes it a pull-factor for Nepali women from the rural west to enter the informal workforce. “Women used to go only when opportunities arose, working for half a year to maximum two years, and frequently going back and forth,” says Sharma. “The potential rise is likely due to the need for greater income driven by rising cash-based expenses for health, education, food, and purchase of consumer goods.” COST OF LEAVING “Previously people struggled for basic needs, and we did not have the money or the roads to travel to Kathmandu, which is why most people went to India for manual work,” says Kartik Kami, 60, of the rural municipality. “Migration trends have changed because both men and women can make money washing, cooking, and cleaning in cities. Soon, there will be no one to conduct weddings or funerals, only children will remain.” While women from other parts of Nepal began participating in foreign employment three decades ago, women from traditional Sudurpaschim families are only now venturing into the Indian labour market. “This surge is filling a labour vacuum in India created when its domestic migrants shifted their focus to Gulf countries,” explains historian Yadab Devkota. Yet, research paints a social cost. A 2020 study found that children of migrant parents suffer loneliness and neglect due to the absence of parental care and love. Children fall back in studies, and girl children are burdened with excessive workload managing the household and siblings.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260203130232_e1e02cd082e7cbb77243103b2197fd1dfca75531bb9d6f518763afccb9ed452c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20260203130232_e1e02cd082e7cbb77243103b2197fd1dfca75531bb9d6f518763afccb9ed452c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1067" loading="lazy" alt="women migrating"> <figcaption>Sitala BK, daughter of Ranne and Aakashe.</figcaption> </figure>  The emotional toll is manifested in anxiety, stress, depression, and in some cases, suicide, especially for those whose mothers have migrated.&nbsp; “The significant shift towards couple migration is driven by families making difficult and high-cost decisions in the hopes of breaking the cycle of poverty,” says Arjun Kharel at the Centre for the Study of Labour and Mobility (CESLAM ). “Migration remains primarily a strategy for subsistence rather than development, it is a calculated family decision made in the absence of local opportunities.” Migration to India remains largely invisible to the Nepal government. The country’s foreign employment framework does not extend to migrants going to India. And because they travel through the open border, they are not regulated by formal systems.&nbsp; There is no accurate count of how many Nepalis are working in India, or of Indians in Nepal. According to the Indian Population and Housing Census, there are 600,000 Nepalis working in India, but this is a gross underestimation.&nbsp; A study by Aapti Institute describes Nepali migrants in India as ‘liminal’ neither fully protected as citizens nor recognised as foreigners there, exposing them to exploitation and risk.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260203130232_14a613729f6ebb1db0bec63032cc78abe3087341680b2f88bc0ab4456621b012.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20260203130232_14a613729f6ebb1db0bec63032cc78abe3087341680b2f88bc0ab4456621b012" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1067" loading="lazy" alt="women migrating"> <figcaption>Ranne and Aakashe's last night at home.</figcaption> </figure>  “Nepali migrants in India are not covered by compensation if they fall sick and or if die, unlike migrants to other overseas destinations who can receive compensation of up to Rs700,000,” notes labour migration expert Saru Joshi. The recent draft National Labour Migration Policy 2025 of the Ministry of Labour, Employment, and Social Security offers a flicker of hope for migrants to India with provisions for welfare, social security, and mental health support for families left behind. The draft also mandates better data collection of the movement of people.&nbsp; It is unlikely that these initiatives will make any difference to the people who remain in Muktikot. Many like Ranne and Akashe are likely to go to India for work. “If I had only two or three children, I would take my wife to India too,” says Jaya BK, 46. But he has seven children, including newborn twins, whom he has stayed behind to help his wife look after this time, rather than leaving for Uttarakhand in winter like he usually does.&nbsp; With the support of Internews' Earth Journalism Network.

Mass migration from Muktikot

The car’s trunk was crammed with boxes and suitcases, almost to the roof, and I was just waiting for the inevitable heart-wrenching screech or thud from underneath as I feathered on the accelerator, trying to cross through the infamous Daunne uphill section of the East-West Highway in an MPV.&nbsp; But to my surprise, the ground clearance of 170mm did not fail. Daunne, roughly 15km long, is the landslide prone ridge between Narayanghat and Butwal section, which is perennially affected by traffic jams, thanks to ongoing (and never ending) road expansion. Traffic jams here can be tens of kilometres long. On a November 2025 trip to Bhairawa it was dry enough to wade through the dreaded Daunne where the choice on the ‘road’ is either mud or dust (or both).&nbsp; The BYD M6 MPV EV borrowed for the journey claimed a range of 440km and 580L of space at the back in an almost 4.7m long form factor.&nbsp; On board were two family members and my five-year-old dog, Kulfi (pictured) who needed frequent stretch breaks for his paws. Stopping to charge the car was most certainly not on my to-do list. Within the first 20km from Koteswor, there were already multiple DC chargers along the roadside. They were fast chargers usually between 30 to 60kWs capacities, meaning a charge to 80% would take on average less than an hour. Nepal now boasts over 1,200 charging stations, each station is often equipped with multiple charging guns. This was a stark contrast to the harsh reality of charger anxiety I faced a couple of years in our family car, the Hyundai Kona. Back then, on the way back from Pokhara there was only a single charging gun at River Side Resort in Kurintar.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026013104014_d36a1ed529caa0b67424699407da8b42b51f4a4b63dd6dbeb662b0ab513b77a8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2026013104014_d36a1ed529caa0b67424699407da8b42b51f4a4b63dd6dbeb662b0ab513b77a8" data-rendition-name="original" width="2652" height="984" loading="lazy" alt="Page 5 map"> </figure>  These were only fast AC chargers of speeds up to 6kWs, unlike today’s much faster DC chargers. This meant the car would take multiple hours to hit the 80% mark -- and the charger would sometimes (shockingly, and without explanation) be out of operation. No one to ask questions, and no one to answer either. While I never needed to charge my EV on the way to Pokhara from Kathmandu, my precautionary nature never allowed me to climb into the Valley via Naubise without a charge. One bad accident, some sort of natural disaster, and you knew the roads would be clogged with traffic and shut down for at least a couple of hours.&nbsp; Fast forward to the present. My mind was at ease. Even if one of the charging stations was crowded, there was conveniently another one 15 minutes away. But the BYD M6 did not require any of that anyway.&nbsp; Not only did it traverse the rough highway from Kathmandu to Mugling, and then onward over the Daunne pass with ease but because the car was heavy and low, it handled high speeds and corners like a champ.&nbsp; Foot down on the accelerator and it climbed to triple digit speeds without breaking a sweat. Put your foot relatively harder on the brakes and it would equally shed its momentum, all the while being economical. After multiple quick stretch stops for Kulfi, and a proper one hour lunch break, I had arrived at Bhairawa before nightfall, still with around 100km of range left in the car and most importantly, with all the luggage intact.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026013104018_1cc05d858d14f0b83fcf586c7270be003f462d60cd19934218e271d59fef3496.png" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2026013104018_1cc05d858d14f0b83fcf586c7270be003f462d60cd19934218e271d59fef3496" data-rendition-name="original" width="1384" height="808" loading="lazy" alt="Bye-bye range anxiety NT"> </figure>  ROUNDTRIP A week later, my return trip to Kathmandu saw an additional passenger and even more luggage – but once again, I arrived back in Kathmandu with ease: both the M6 and Nepal’s charger infrastructure had exceeded my expectations and needs.&nbsp; This 600km drive to and from Bhairawa from the mountains around Kathmandu to the Tarai plains, with not-so-smooth hilly terrain in between, highlighted not only how far electric vehicles have evolved but also showed how far the charging infrastructure (once a major irritant during the Covid years) had come.&nbsp; EVs in Nepal are no longer niche products; they are available across budgets and segments, ranging in form factor from micro city commuters and family hatchbacks to compact SUVs, pickups, and even full-size MPVs.&nbsp; One noticeable improvement on the highways is that the charging infrastructure has grown from a scattered and company-installed. NEA units along major routes have now converted into full-fledged, round-the-clock networks that allow flexibility and convenience to those of us who like to enjoy our times on the road.&nbsp; What once felt like a gamble, now feels like momentum — and the road ahead for electric mobility in Nepal looks smoother. &nbsp;&nbsp; Arnav Upadhyay reviews automobiles and promotes road safety under the handle Casually Annoyed Driver on Youtube, Tiktok and IG and this monthly column Drive Line in Nepali Times.

Bye-bye range anxiety

On full-moon nights in October and the Nepali New Year in April, hundreds gather to worship at the sacred pond of Mai Pokhari in Ilam. According to legend, the pond was born thousands of years ago from the union of the holy Mai and Tamur rivers in eastern Nepal. Another story tells of an elderly couple whose death gave rise to a life-giving pond meant to quench human thirst. The nine corners of the pond are each believed to house a goddess capable of granting health, fertility, good harvests, and protection from landslides and storms. In every version, one message is constant: when people polluted the water, the goddess moved away. Fear of losing her protection still shapes how people treat the sacred water body today. Besides ponds, wetlands are areas that are saturated with water, permanently or seasonally, including marshes, swamps, and bogs – representing some of the world’s most biologically diverse ecosystems, with distinctive soil, plants and animals. In 2008, Mai Pokhari earned the status of a Ramsar site – a wetland of global importance – for its ecological significance.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260202020236_5fdcca89b06fcc0a2f2a7620931bc7fa1e932c72a5c1f5e083d4fd06287218b7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260202020236_5fdcca89b06fcc0a2f2a7620931bc7fa1e932c72a5c1f5e083d4fd06287218b7" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Mai Pokhari"> <figcaption>Mai Pokhari in Ilam. Photo: JITENDRA RAJ BAJRACHARYA / ICIMOD</figcaption> </figure>  Its mid-elevation broadleaved forests provide habitat for many epiphytic orchids that grow without soil, attaching themselves to trees, and protected species such as the white-rumped vulture (Gyps bengalensis), leopard cat (Prionailurus bengalensis) and Eurasian Otter (Lutra lutra). For the people of the area, this is more than a wetland. It is a living mother, an ancestral guardian, and at the heart of their cultural identity. But long before it was recognised internationally, it was already being protected through belief, respect, and traditional knowledge passed quietly from one generation to the next. This pattern of faith-based stewardship is repeated across the Himalaya. Spirituality has shaped conservation in ways no law ever could. Fishing, hunting, and polluting wetlands and rivers are strictly forbidden, not by force but by faith. When erosion threatened the pond in the 1930s, villagers planted pine trees along its edges. As forest degradation increased, the community organised itself, establishing community forests in 1992 and 2001. In 2004, the area surrounding the pond was formally recognised as a religious forest –- a recognition based on local devotion rather than outside instruction.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260202020236_18ec88be3dadf3573074796decb255e3b536893d5778735cf6e7dc3184330017.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260202020236_18ec88be3dadf3573074796decb255e3b536893d5778735cf6e7dc3184330017" data-rendition-name="original" width="919" height="540" loading="lazy" alt="Map of wetlands in Hindu Kush"> <figcaption>Map showing four wetlands in the Hindu Kush Himalaya. Source: RAMESH KATHARIYA / ICIMOD</figcaption> </figure>  In the lowland forests of western Nepal, lies Ghodaghodi, a wetland complex consisting of large and shallow oxbow lake with 13 associated marshes and meadows surrounded by tropical deciduous forest on the lower slopes of the Siwalik range along the southern edge of the Himalaya. These wetlands and forests serve as a critical wildlife corridor between the lowlands and the Siwalik, supporting several globally threatened species of plants and animals, and rare wild rice. To the people who live around it, especially the Indigenous Tharu, Ghodaghodi is alive – a sacred presence shaped by gods, ancestors, and centuries of belief. The name Ghodaghodi, which means horse and mare, carries ancient memories. Elders tell stories of divine beings who once moved through the landscape in animal form, leaving behind a lake infused with spiritual powers. The waters are believed to be the dwelling place of gods and goddesses, particularly Lord Shiva. This belief has shaped how the wetland is viewed: not as property to be owned, but as a holy space to be respected. Each year during the festival of Agan Panchami, thousands of pilgrims gather at Ghodaghodi, walking barefoot along forest paths with offerings of flowers, fruits, milk, and water. Polluting the water or harming its creatures is believed to invite misfortune. These unwritten cultural rules have conserved the wetland for generations, long before it was declared a wetland of global importance. In the central highlands of Bhutan lies the Gangtey-Phobji in a wide glacial valley. The Ramsar site is the prime wintering habitat for the globally vulnerable, black-necked crane (Grus nigricollis).  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260202020236_7a8c7215ecc6928e7160e8057c761095e7021e711e1290f6d8b2c8a50879be64.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260202020236_7a8c7215ecc6928e7160e8057c761095e7021e711e1290f6d8b2c8a50879be64" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="998" loading="lazy" alt="Black necked crane"> <figcaption>Black-necked crane in Phobji. ALEX TREADWAY / ICIMOD</figcaption> </figure>  An annual festival at the Gangtey monastery welcomes the arrival of the cranes in November. Locals revere the birds as sacred messengers, and they are believed to bring blessings and prosperity. It is these beliefs that have helped preserve Bhutan’s flagship Ramsar site. In West Sikkim, the Khachoedpalri wetland was declared a Ramsar site in 2025. This Himalayan high-altitude wetland ecosystem and its surrounding temperate forests provide critical habitat for many species of flora and fauna, and the wetland serves as an important habitat and stopover site for migratory birds. But more importantly, it has religious significance as a pilgrimage site and is revered by both Buddhists and Hindus as a wish-fulfilling lake. It is these values that have supported its conservation from time immemorial. These wetlands are recognised internationally as Ramsar sites for their ecological and other attributes. However, the very cultural practices that preserved these wetlands, along with new external pressures, now threaten them. Many are now increasingly under threat due to growing human intervention – including misplaced practices such as the ritual release of exotic fish by the faithful. Some religious bodies now advise against these practices. Many others are drying out, silting up, or polluted by upstream activity. As these changes intensify, there is concern that not only biodiversity, but also the cultural practices and spiritual values tied to the wetlands may begin to fade. As we mark this year’s World Wetlands Day on 2 February with the theme ‘Wetlands and Traditional Knowledge: Celebrating Cultural Heritage’ it is a reminder that wetlands are not only ecosystems – they are rich cultural spaces. Traditional knowledge and belief systems have quietly conserved these wetlands for centuries, showing that when people revere nature, protection becomes a way of life. It is this profound connection, where culture nurtures ecology that we must safeguard to ensure neither wetlands nor the heritage they hold fade away. Sunita Chaudhary is the Biodiversity Lead at the International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development (ICIMOD).

Where culture meets ecology

The Himalayan mountains are also known as the Third Pole because it is the largest repository of water stored as ice outside the two polar regions. However, it is divided by political boundaries that nature does not recognise – be it the air pollutants that flow or migratory birds that fly over the peaks. The Himalaya is also a geopolitical and climate change hot spot. In these geopolitically and environmentally challenging times, it becomes even more important to create oases of conversations, where candid and future-oriented discussions can take place at a people-to-people level. Platforms dominated by inter-governmental agencies have been able to do little. The Himalayan Future Forum (HFF) aims to be a platform that stands at the crossroads of climate, community, and connectivity, fostering dialogue and promoting citizen-led action. Growing up in the Indian Himalayan town of Kalimpong and spending the nascent stages of my career helping in setting up offices of the award-winning Annapurna Conservation Area Project (ACAP) that fostered community involvement in conservation, I have witnessed transformations both good and bad.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260205070244_6e2087b11fff0cc6704eebaee6f169848a9cfd57c4a02d7d1fd45db2526d2f67.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260205070244_6e2087b11fff0cc6704eebaee6f169848a9cfd57c4a02d7d1fd45db2526d2f67" data-rendition-name="original" width="5559" height="3711" loading="lazy" alt="HFF 2026"></figure>  There are initiatives like Nepal’s forest cover doubling in 30 years, or Bhutan’s drive for high-end sustainable tourism. At the same time, I have seen landscapes destroyed by bulldozers and tall buildings competing for air and sunlight in expanding cities. From crony capitalists patronised by political leaders engaged in plundering natural resources to citizen-led initiatives on cleanliness drives and waste management, the Himalayan region is full of stories from both ends of the spectrum of disappointment and hope. Life is about observing and, in one’s little sphere of influence, taking baby steps towards catalysing positive transformation. This is why, Nepal Economic Forum (NEF) had been hosting the Himalayan Consensus Summit in Nepal from 2014 to 2020 following which the Himalayan Future Forum (HFF) was incubated since 2023. HFF is an initiative to encourage multi-faceted dialogues on the topics of climate, community, and connectivity in the Himalayan region by bringing together leaders, experts, institutions, and practitioners from different countries and sectors.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260205070244_a7e673507dcdb6e265cb6f76f2890f17af36f17006a7f6d0f2f0e1a288c89a09.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260205070244_a7e673507dcdb6e265cb6f76f2890f17af36f17006a7f6d0f2f0e1a288c89a09" data-rendition-name="original" width="5364" height="3581" loading="lazy" alt="HFF 2026"></figure>  In this year’s edition, there are a series of sessions on 6 February with 34 speakers including ten international panelists. On day two the Himalayan Haat aims to showcase a variety of local, indigenous, and sustainable products. As in 2024, it is believed that the conversations and interactions at the HFF will lead to more partnerships and collaborations from climate financing to managing disasters to taking Himalayan brands global. YOUNG FELLOWS Beyond this, there are sessions on topics such as geopolitics and the Himalaya, as well as on migration which are especially relevant considering the past few years that have seen many events which impacted the global world order. One of the key features of HFF, guided by our ethos of bringing together experts, experiences, and enthusiasm, is also to ensure stronger youth representation through the HFF Youth Fellowship. This year, following a rigorous screening process, youth fellows were selected out of an overwhelming response. Those chosen will be able to attend the events as well as collaborate in future research and publications. Selected fellows will also be provided with full scholarships to the public policy program at Takshashila Institution, an independent centre for research and education in public policy in Bangalore. In a region where half of the population is under 25 years, it is important to get the future generations also in the room.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260205070244_3416bd14d5249afeb357b11f760f49b0cd1d77feeac71d820406b2d9e86696bc.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260205070244_3416bd14d5249afeb357b11f760f49b0cd1d77feeac71d820406b2d9e86696bc" data-rendition-name="original" width="5273" height="3520" loading="lazy" alt="HFF 2026"></figure>  Nepal presents an ideal location to hold meetings such as this, where no-holds-barred conversations can take place face-to-face. The country has good air connectivity and one of the most liberal visa policies in Asia. And while Davos is a good example to follow for convening global voices, we need not have so many private planes burning fossil fuel, as we can have participants take scheduled commercial flights or have regional participants simply take a road trip. Ultimately, the Himalayan region is also about festivities. No exchange of ideas is complete without immersing in art, culture, culinary experiences, and music. This is why HFF envisages graduating to a Himalayan Jatra, rooted in a region where people smile from the heart, and teach the world to smile with them. Join us at HFF 2026 as we move closer to this vision. See the schedule <a href="file:///Z:/%231297%20February%206/pix/page%209/HFF%202026%20Program%20Schedule%20(1)_compressed.pdf">here</a>. Sujeev Shakya is Chair of Nepal Economic Forum and Convenor of the Himalayan Future Forum.