<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161128/636d18a39c7e80680e0ac7d8jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="800" height="464"/>Nepal’s trans-Himalayan district of Manang is located in the rain-shadow, and is a high altitude desert. Its average annual rainfall is barely 300mm, but it got nearly double that <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/monsoon-hits-nepal-with-a-bang/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">rain in just one week</a> in June.The region had seen a seven-month winter drought, and was <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/wildfires-ravage-nepal-mountains/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">ravaged by wildfires this spring</a> that burnt for three months. Then came the monsoon: dumping 300% more rain than the average for June-July.The steep slopes scorched by wildfire could not absorb the heavy rain, and a wall of water, mud, boulders and logs washed down the Marsyangdi River, washing away highway, bridges, settlements and other infrastructure.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161128/636d18a59c7e80680e0ac7d9jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="960" height="639">Three and half months later, the scars of that devastation are still seen everywhere in the towns of Chame and Taal. Residents are still waiting for help from the government, while charities and activists have provided relief material.Scientists are reluctant to blame a single weather event on the climate crisis, but there is a growing consensus that <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/human-face-of-a-himalayan-climate-crisis/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">a hotter Himalaya </a>is leading to more erratic monsoons, droughts, floods and wildfires. The 2021 monsoon was proof of that.Minrasi Gurung and his family in Naso village of Manang used to have his hands full all year round growing vegetables in a large patch by the river. Income from selling potatoes, chilli and tomatoes to trekking lodges supported the entire household.But the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/drones-to-the-rescue-in-melamchi/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">flood on the Marsyangdi River</a> on 15 June swept away the family’s farm, and the river is now flowing through a boulder-strewn debris field where the farm used to be.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161128/636d18aa9c7e80680e0ac7dajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1368" height="912"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161128/636d18ad9c7e80680e0ac7dbjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161128/636d18b19c7e80680e0ac7dcjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000">“We have been tilling this land since the time of my great grandfather, never before has there been such a disaster,” he says.Minrasi has now moved with his wife Masini to Myagdi River on the border of Lamjung and Manang districts to open a tea shop. “The floods and landslides displaced us,” they say.The scenic town of Taal used to be a popular stopover for trekkers on the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/the-other-abc-trek/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Annapurna Circuit</a>, and there were many lodges on a ledge overlooking the Marsyangdi. The water rose so high on 15 June that it washed away the lodges, and seven of the 57 houses in the village are still liveable. None of the hotels survived however, one would be hard-pressed to even locate their ruins.Keshav Gurung of Taal spent much of his life in the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/where-have-all-the-guides-gone/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">tourism business</a>, and he ploughed his earnings to upgrade his hotel, never thinking of investing elsewhere because trekking brought good income.But the flood swept away his Rs40 million hotel, and he is now living in a tent in a plot owned by his neighbours. He used to make Rs1.6 million a year in profit from the 21-room hotel.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161128/636d18b59c7e80680e0ac7ddjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000">Golamaya Gurung in Sirantal had a 10-room hotel, a house and half a hectare of land. All of this is now gone, she barely managed to save her own life as the floodwaters rose.A helicopter rescued Golmaya and her neighbours two days after the disaster from a cave they had fled to. Since then, she has not been able to return to what used to be her home.“There is no way I can get there at the moment. From a distance, I can see the river flowing where my house once stood, I can identify the general location of my house because of a tree that is still standing,” says Golmaya.The floods on the Marsyangdi River and its tributary, Thada Khola, caused the most damage in <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Off-the-road,237" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Taal</a> and Dharapani municipalities. The district headquarter at Chame is still cut off because the road was washed away by the flood and numerous landslides.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161128/636d18b89c7e80680e0ac7dejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000">Kamarkali Gurung owned Hotel Heaven in Dharapani, popular with trekkers. There is no sign of it now. She put in all her savings and spent Rs20.5 million on the hotel, and had been running it for eight years.“I invested everything in that hotel, what happened is so unexpected, so shocking, I still cannot believe that I have lost it all,” she says.Bhuturam Gurung of Chame had also been running a hotel for 15 years, but both his house and hotel were washed away by the Marsyangdi that fateful day. “I had never seen an angry river like that in my life,” he recalled. Bhuturam’s families and three others are now living in Manang’s district prison, which has been converted into a shelter.There is no exact estimate of the damage wrought by the 15 June flood yet. But according to Chief District Officer Bishnu Prasad Lamichhane, the disaster cost at least Rs1.1 billion. A municipality investigation showed a much higher number.“The government observation doesn’t match the ground situation, we estimate over Rs4 billion in damage,” says Palden Chopang Gurung, MP from Manang district. “Chame and Naso alone suffered over Rs3 billion in damaged private buildings, schools, electricity lines and roads. But that is just two municipalities, more bridges and roads have been affected.”A recently completed track from Manang to Bhartang is badly damaged with a 2km-long stretch washed away by the floods. While a new route is under construction, the terrain poses a challenge and the progress has been slow. The landslide-damaged road between Dharapani and Chame also poses risks for travellers.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161128/636d18bc9c7e80680e0ac7dfjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1440" height="664"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161128/636d18bf9c7e80680e0ac7e0jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1440" height="664">“It’s impossible to resume smooth transport like anytime soon, we have settled for a temporary road for now,” says Chairman of Chame Village Municipality Lokendra Ghale.Following the floods, the chief minister of Gandaki Province Krishna Chandra Pokhrel has visited the disaster site three times in a helicopter, he also announced Rs200,000 in relief for each family. But three and a half months later, locals are yet to receive any help.Earlier this year,<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-govt-fills-cabinet-after-3-months/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer"> Prime Minister Sher Bahadur Deuba’s government</a> declared Manang as a high-risk district, following which Home Minister Bal Krisha Khand and Energy Minister Pampha Bhusal also choppered in to make more promises that have not been kept.“We haven’t received any help from the central government, the only relief has been from Manang people living in Kathmandu or abroad,” adds Ghale. “All these experts in Kathmandu who have linked the disaster to climate change are also all talk and no action.”Located in the Himalayan rainshadow, Manang gets only about 300mm of rain a year. But on 15 June, it got 212mm of rain in just 24 hours. The average rainfall for March-June in Manang is about 40 mm, but this year it got 135 mm in that period.“The soil in high mountains can be easily washed away by the rain as they are not as firm,” says geography professor Subodh Dhakal at Tribhuvan University. To make matters worse, Manang saw fires burn continuously for three months last winter. Monsoon cloudbursts then hit slopes where the soil’s absorptive capacity had been reduced by previous wildfires. The runoff disgorged itself into the Marsyangdi River.“Due to the rise in average global temperature, there is more moisture in the monsoon system, and these have managed to find their way to the other side of the mountains, this is a clear link to global warming,” says climate scientist Ngamindra Dahal.The average increase in temperature in Manang is also higher than other districts at lower elevations, and is 0.09 Celsius higher than elsewhere, according to the Department of Hydrology and Meteorology.This is in line with the finding that the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/a-hotter-himalaya/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Himalaya is getting 0.3-0.7 Celsius warmer </a>than the global average, and is a warning for a much hotter Subcontinent and <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/weve-seen-fire-and-weve-seen-rain/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">more frequent disasters</a> in the coming days.

original

674x448

610x380

400x266

400x240

400x203

301x200

Himalayan floods a sign of worse to come

<figure><img width="900" height="673" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110151116/636d08409c7e80680e0a6008jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>All photos: SMITA MAGAR</figcaption></figure>“How the dry earth must have sizzled today, kanchhi!” my sister-in-law Birmati said in delight after heavy rain finally fell in Jhumlawang village of Bhume Rural Municipality.For eight-months it had not rained here in East Rukum, destroying the wheat and barley crops and rendering surrounding forests tinder-dry. So, when the rains finally came in April, it was a welcome relief.The fires scorched the bone dry mountains this spring, shrouding the country in thick smoke for weeks. The pollution peaked in Kathmandu in March, making breathing difficult. While that was happening, up here in Jhumlawang residents were dealing with insect infestation on fodder grass, and they worried about how to manage fresh green grass for the livestock. There was looming worry about a possible famine.The residents of Jhumlawang were in their fields the day after the first rain fell, but the winter wheat crop had not fared well during the drought. The desiccated stalks was turned into cattle fodder. <img width="900" height="600" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110151116/636d08439c7e80680e0a6009jpeg.jpg" alt=""><img width="900" height="600" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110151116/636d08469c7e80680e0a600ajpeg.jpg" alt="">“We only got a handful of grain when there should have been many muri of wheat,” says Jokhi Kumari Thapa. “So we fed whatever was there to the cows and goats.”As the rain began to fall in earnest, villagers ploughed their fields and began planting maize.   Maize and wheat are major food crops here in the remote mountains of East Rukum. The terraces on the steep slopes are also suitable for potato, barley, mustard, hemp seed, beans, millet and various other spices that villagers farm to feed their own families. However, the yield is not enough them for the entire year. Subsistence rain-fed farming makes food availability precarious not just here, but across central and western Nepal. And this year’s winter drought meant that even fields that had good yields in previous years did not produce any harvest this year. The rain, when it finally came was relentless, and this meant that during the threshing season the farmers could not get as much grain as they would have liked. Indeed, the wheat harvesting process needs to go through multiple carefully planned stages that require considerable effort. The wheat is first harvested and its stalks dried. Then it is threshed, and the husk separated from the grain. The grain is then dried in the sun before being moved to storage. If the crops do not get enough sun during the process, there is a possibility of the grains rotting on the stalk itself, rendering the crop useless.  <img width="900" height="673" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110151116/636d08489c7e80680e0a600bjpeg.jpg" alt=""><img width="900" height="646" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110151116/636d084b9c7e80680e0a600cjpeg.jpg" alt="">My nieces Ritu, Swastika, and Barsha had gone to the fields to harvest the still-young crops to prevent this very problem from occurring.“Grandmother has told us to cut even the small stalks of wheat, otherwise the grain will weep,” Barsha explained to her elder sisters as she got busy in the fields. A popular folklore has been passed down from generations of farmers in Jhumlawang. In it, the smaller wheat stalks that have been left unharvested in the field gather around the harvested stalks at night, and weep.“The big grains fill bigger baskets, and we fill the smaller ones,” they say. “If not a thun (a basket similar to a doko that can retain smaller-sized grains), we could fill a phungo (a smaller basket) Then we could also feed our owners.” <img width="900" height="673" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110151116/636d084f9c7e80680e0a600djpeg.jpg" alt=""><img width="900" height="600" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110151116/636d08539c7e80680e0a600ejpeg.jpg" alt="">My mother’s sister Hastakala Buda had gone to nearby Dangliga to harvest wheat. When my mother Bhagwati Buda asked her if the wheat there was more plentiful, my aunt laughed and said, “Poor things, those crops got neither mulch nor water, we barely got a handful of grain out of them.”Sirmaya BK had come to help us with the wheat harvest. Out here in these parts, anyone who helps with the wheat-cutting is compensated with a sack of wheat at the end of each day. But since there simply was not enough harvest this year, no one had any work for Sirmaya. As she was preparing to return home, Sirmaya asked, “You don’t have enough wheat here to tide you over either. What are you going to eat?”Meanwhile, my sister Krishna Buda, who had been stuck in her maternal home due to the coronavirus pandemic, was uprooting the wheat in the field, yanking out the dry stalks. Not a single grain had grown in them. Gesturing sadly towards the dry field she said, “Look didi, what a shameful sight. The livestock will feed on this now.”Swastika, who had been looking on in frustration as Krishna uprooted the wheat stalks, added, “Phupu, we would have been so happy to harvest the wheat if the stalks had any grain on them.”   <img width="900" height="600" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110151116/636d08589c7e80680e0a600fjpeg.jpg" alt="">In Dallepata, my uncle Lok Bahadur Buda, who had irrigation on his terrace fields, had exactly the kind of harvest that Swastika would have been happy to help with. Where other villagers had their seeds destroyed, my uncle, thanks to irrigation water, managed to harvest four muri worth of wheat. This was two muri less than the usual yield, but it was better than nothing.Extreme weather like drought and torrential rainfall due to climate change have directly affected traditional agricultural practices in villages like Jhumlawang across Nepal, causing uncertainty and food insecurity. And while my uncle proved that irrigating the fields can result in a good yield even during periods of drought, the villagers here believe that irrigation causes the mulch and manure to settle beneath the soil and not help in improving the harvest.This is why the irrigation channels built by various organisations in these parts are barely used by local farmers. The rains are uncertain, but at least it does not mess with the soil, they believe. Mankumari Budha Bista, vice-chair of Bhume Rural Municipality, says that there is no culture of irrigation among Rukum farmers, who prefer to rely on traditional practices.  <img width="900" height="600" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110151116/636d085a9c7e80680e0a6010jpeg.jpg" alt="">Now, just as the drought destroyed the wheat crop, continuous rain since April has damaged crops that do not require much water. The water destroyed much of the germinating potato planted in February. There was no rain when it was needed, and too much when the crops did not require it.“It rained just as the potatoes had begun sprouting, and the water rotted the plants away,” says Birmati bhauju.Even the usually hardy raised fields have been affected by the excessive and untimely rain. Heavy rains right after the maize seeds had been planted hampered their growth. Adding to their concern was a pest infestation in maize crops throughout East Rukum, and farmers are worried there will be locust invasion similar to last year.Such a multi-pronged attack on crops means that the threat of food shortage looms large. Jhumlawang produces two major staples each year: wheat and maize. Continuous rainfall from January to September in 2020 resulted in less-than-optimum maize yield. The drought that began after September then destroyed the wheat crop. The heavy rains that began right after also wiped out the potatoes and this year’s maize.Jhumlawang’s farmers depend on their crops for food security but for a reliable source of income — they are just trying to survive hand-to-mouth. Their immediate worry this year, however, is to save the maize crop and to secure enough seeds for the winter wheat crop.Famine-like conditions in which farmers are forced to eat seeds to survive are not new here in Jhumlawang. But my relatives say that these crises have been occurring more frequently than in the past.  <img width="900" height="600" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110151116/636d085d9c7e80680e0a6011jpeg.jpg" alt="">Shiva Buda, who is in charge of the Jhumlawang Community Health Centre, has seen it all before. “In our village,” he says, “the destruction of one crop will bring famine, but the destruction of two staples is catastrophic.”The last two times there were deadly famines here were in 1971 and 1977. Those who were alive then remember surviving on gruel and roots of nettles. Some farmers had to mortgage their jewellery for food. Some of the villagers recall walking for five days on hungry stomachs to get some government relief. “We were born at a time of great pain,” said one farmer.There was, however, a silver lining from the famine. At that time, the village panchayat had asked the residents of Kyangsi, Seema, Morawang and Jhumlawang to dig a road from Ratwamare to Kwachiwang to transport relief materials for the 'Food for Development' program. However, that one road was not adequate for Jhumlawang residents during periods of famine that would follow. Ram Kumari Thapa recalls donning her doko and namlo and going as far as Dalsinge, Dhawanne, Domai and Ratwamare — as far as the limited road system allowed — in search of rice. As she travelled, Ram Kumari realised she was not alone. “When I saw the crowds of people,” she recalls, “I realised just  how many people were on the verge of starvation.”Transportation of food has become easier ever since an unpaved road reached the village two years ago. “Now, as long as we have the money, the food can be transported right to our home,” says Ram Kumari.This year, concerns about natural and climate-induced disasters among villagers have been compounded by the Covid-19 pandemic and the ensuing restrictions.“God has sent us death and disaster simultaneously,” Birmati bhauju complains.Dilman Roka, Chairman of Bhume Ward 3, met with Municipality chair Ramsur Buda in February to discuss the food shortage, and the threat of starvation due to food shortages compounded by Covid lockdowns. “Unlike in the cities, where transportation is not an issue, floods and landslides during the monsoon here not only interrupt  good delivery, but also make it expensive,” says Roka.  <img width="400" height="535" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110151116/636d085f9c7e80680e0a6012jpeg.jpg" alt="">At present, Jhumlawang Village Foundation and Jhumlawang Rural Cooperative have collaborated to transport essential food items from Dang. Village chief Chandra Singh Shrestha says that the local government has written to Kathmandu asking for relief materials for those living in areas that are threatened by food shortages.Additionally, Bhume Rural Municipality has begun making long-term plans to integrate traditional and modern agricultural practices in the region. The municipality has been testing various food crops by allocating areas for agricultural study and research in Maring and is planning to give out grants and concessions to attract prospective young farmers. But most youngsters in Jhumlawang are not interested, and would rather go away to complete higher studies or find work abroad. This has created a shortage of able-bodied adults to tend the farms, contributing to decreased agricultural production further exacerbated by weather extremes and climate change.Like many Nepalis, however, those who go overseas send money back families at home. This means there is some cash to buy food in case the crops fail — proving that much of the remittances Nepalis send home from abroad go for bare day-to-day survival.Those whose family members remain in Nepal make rounds of the village to secure loans, borrowing from local lenders at 30-40% interest, trapping them in a vicious spiral of poverty. <img width="900" height="600" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110151116/636d08629c7e80680e0a6013jpeg.jpg" alt="">Bhim Prasad Shrestha, a young farmer in Jhumlawang, is worried about his family going hungry this year. “Why would anyone want to farm if months of hard work is destroyed due to drought and downpours like this?” says Shrestha, who returned from Saudi Arabia after working there for eight years.  He has been farming for several years, and describes some programs introduced by the government in East Rukum as impractical and unsuitable because they are more suited to the Tarai.  Shrestha says what is most urgently needed is to connect Jhumlawang to the market, and to incorporate modernised farming in the region.  Bhume rural municipality vice-chair Mankumari Budha Bista agrees. “It has become imperative to adopt timely and modern agricultural methods,” he says. “But we see that it takes time to catch on.” One evening, the lightning illuminates the mountains in pink flashes. There is a crash of thunder, and the rain again comes down in torrents.  My mother looks up to the sky and curses: “थुइया चिर्को पर्ने सर्ग! कस्तो राम देखा होलाई!” (Splitting the sky with lightning! Why such drama?) In my mother’s anger, I see the pain and the hardship of farmers here who struggle to survive and adapt to a changing climate over which they have no control. Translated from the <a href="https://www.himalkhabar.com/news/124847" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">original article</a> by Shristi Karki.

500x500

First drought, then downpour

Where will Nepal be in 2050? It is only 25 years away. The country’s population will be peaking at 36 million, the poverty rate will drop to near zero. Maternal and child mortality rates will fall further. Nepal will be generating up to 40,000MW of hydro and solar power, more than half of that for export. Upgraded highways will improve connectivity, railways will make transport cheaper. Pokhara and Birganj will only be two hours away from Kathmandu. Nijgad airport could be Nepal’s new aviation hub, reducing Kathmandu’s congestion. Nepal will hitch its wagon to the engines of economic growth in India and China. Investment and job creation will reduce outmigration, Nepal's data centres will be powered with surplus electricity. Remote areas will prosper with high-value tourists. That is if all goes well. But if Nepal’s politics remains dysfunctional with incompetent leadership, then the country will muddle along as it is doing now. Society will be more unequal, public discontent may boil over as politicians resort to faith to hide failures, the exodus abroad of youth will continue. Climate breakdown will exacerbate these crises. Global average temperature will have risen to 2.7°C above pre-industrial levels (it is 1.1°C now). The remaining Himalayan icecap will shrink by half, glacial lakes will threaten valleys. The hydrology of rivers will change, reducing dry season flow. Severe and prolonged heat waves in the Tarai will force people to migrate back to the mountains. In the final analysis, it all boils down to a political system that is more accountable, and displays more integrity and efficiency. <h2>Mission 2050</h2> · Melamchi Water Supply Project · Pokhrara International Airport · Bhairawa International Airport · Upper Tama Kosi Hydroelectric Project . Kathmandu-Tarai Expressway What do these biggest infrastructure projects in Nepal have in common? All ended up being more expensive than they should, all have been delayed and are not fully operational, two were badly damaged in climate-related disasters that should have been foreseen. The $800 million Melamchi is Nepal’s most expensive infrastructure project to date. It took 30 years to build, but was nearly destroyed by a glacial debris flow in June 2021. The headworks need major repairs. The 456MW Upper Tama Kosi was severely damaged by a rockfall and floods in last September’s floods. It is still not operating at full capacity, and other hydropower plants were damaged in recent glacial floods. Pokhara and Bhairawa airports were supposed to be the new aviation gateways to Nepal to take the pressure off Kathmandu, and become game changers for tourism and pilgrimage. Nearly three years later, both handle domestic flights. Poor and inadequate design, kickbacks on contracts, cost overruns, failure of diplomacy to get India’s nod on air routes, and lack of planning and marketing have made the airports a pair of white elephants. Some of these setbacks can be blamed on natural calamities, but mostly it is political incompetence and greed, lack of accountability and poor implementation. That is no surprise, since these are the hallmarks of doing business in Nepal, often delaying projects, adding to the cost, and even when completed they are already outdated. That is the story of the last 25 years, are the next 25 going to be any different? Not if governance does not improve. “What we really need for the future is vision, idea, and understanding, and then the domestic capacity to implement them,” says infrastructure expert Surya Raj Acharya, who laments the total absence of technical and planning expertise. “None of our national highways meet technical standards, our cities are unplanned. The priority was never on quality. Politicians sold us short-term infrastructure that have now become a barrier to prosperity,” he adds. One silver lining has been private sector involvement in hydropower, and the energy strategy aims to generate 11,769MW by 2030. But hydropower is high-investment, high-risk due to climate breakdown, and ecologically damaging. “Hydropower is a good example of how government incentives and public-private partnership can work wonders, although we now have to take climate change into account,” explains economist Kalpana Khanal of the Policy Research Institute. She adds, “We now have to identify other key infrastructure areas that also enhance the growth of other sectors.” The National Planning Commission’s periodic plans guide overall social and economic strategy for the country into the coming decade. Nepal’s current five-year plan (2024-2029) has set a target of 7.3% annual economic growth against the current 3.9%, $2,351 per capita income up from $1,456 at present, and poverty reduction to 12%. The plan aims to export nearly half the hydropower generated by 2030, earning the country Rs41 billion annually. But there is no real coordination between line agencies, and bureaucratic lethargy leads to constant delays, says former member of the National Planning Commission (NPC) Min Bahadur Shahi. “Development in Nepal is still very much synonymous with building roads and bridges, and infrastructure is rudimentary,” he says. “Elsewhere in the world, digital infrastructure and governance go hand in hand, we are far behind.” The frustration of a man who served in the National Planning Commission is an indication where the problem lies: in actually executing plans and implementing strategies. “We need to prioritise projects based on our geography, climate, societal needs,” Shahi continues. “We want to push Nijgad airport when we can’t even operate Pokhara and Bhairawa. Have we even studied potential air routes and needs of international carriers?”  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250726070744_0547e5a7fd4424b5de8c279cab637ee7ebd9e65f2673b15e6dbd4eb2aa2524f2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250726070744_0547e5a7fd4424b5de8c279cab637ee7ebd9e65f2673b15e6dbd4eb2aa2524f2" data-rendition-name="original" width="3600" height="2400" loading="lazy" alt="Pokhara airport"><figcaption>NO FLY ZONE: Pokhara airport was supposed to be the new aviation gateway to Nepal but nearly three years after its inaguration, it mostly handles domestic flights. Photo: RADHIKA KANDEL </figcaption></figure>  TARGET PRACTICE Export of hydropower, manpower and lately information technology are the mainstays of Nepal’s economy, and will carry the country to its graduation from Least Developed Country status to a developing country in November 2026, and hopefully to middle-income by 2030. Nepal has an installed capacity of about 3,800MW, most of it from hydropower, and increased adoption of electric cars has reduced the import of petroleum products, decreasing the trade deficit with India. Meanwhile, Nepalis abroad sent home $11 billion in remittances last year, and at least $900 million in backend IT exports. But demographer Yogendra B Gurung is not impressed: “Despite the reduction in the poverty rate, and our improving income status, life expectancy, income, even maternal and infant mortality are not on par with countries with similar economic status.” He says relying on remittances is an unsustainable economic model, vulnerable to external factors and remittances are mostly spent on day-to-day needs, and not invested in productive sectors. Remittance is credited with reducing poverty in Nepal which is down to 20.27% from 42% in 1990. Money sent home by workers abroad has allowed families to afford basic healthcare and education, in turn helping to reduce childhood malnutrition and maternal mortality while improving female literacy. But the progress has stalled in recent years, and many doubt Nepal will meet its Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) targets. The National Planning Commission has said Nepal is likely to achieve just 60% of the targets by 2030. Sex ratio at birth, which is 112 boys to 100 girls in Nepal in particular, is worrying, as it is much higher than the biological ratio of 105 to 100. This is much more pronounced in Karnali, Sudurpaschim and Madhes Provinces which suffer from historical neglect. Despite a rise in female literacy, patriarchy is still deeply entrenched and the provinces are behind the rest of the country for gender equality, education, healthcare, nutrition and economic opportunities. “Karnali is resource-rich, especially hydropower and the recent discovery of the methane gas, but inequality is much greater,” says Shahi, who is with the Karnali Integrated Rural Development and Research Centre (KIRDARC). “Federalism in Nepal is only on paper, we need a total structural reform to devolve political power to really bring about change.”  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250726070744_fd4a218656e1fbf6f13f5f87a47bfe624516c6a0232481b6be77875ae866deb9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250726070744_fd4a218656e1fbf6f13f5f87a47bfe624516c6a0232481b6be77875ae866deb9" data-rendition-name="original" width="3600" height="2400" loading="lazy" alt="Butwal-Narayangadh "><figcaption>The Daunne section of the Butwal-Narayangadh road notorious for traffic jams and accidents, it has been in never-ending construction for three years. Photo: BISHNU PRASAD GAUDEL / RSS </figcaption></figure>  Despite limited resources, Nepal also suffers from wasteful investment as a result of politically (mis)guided decision-making, instead of people-centric plans and policies, says demographer Gurung. “People are overwhelmingly moving to the cities but our leaders are hell bent on building roads to every village and now there are empty schools in the mountains,” he adds. Nepal needs data-driven planning but its long-term economic vision 2020-44 seems more of a wish-list than realistic goals, including average annual GDP growth of 10.5%, $12,000 per capita income and population under the absolute poverty line at 0. Other goals include raising electricity generation capacity to 40,000MW, access to motor transport to 99%, life expectancy at birth to 80, maternal mortality down to 20% and literacy to 99% and 100% access to the internet, among others. Meanwhile, Nepal is committed to net-zero by 2045 and 100% renewable energy by 2050. “Our planners have no idea what kind of infrastructure we need 20, 30 years down the line to sustain and accelerate growth. We need a big structural change in the political leadership, in technocratic planning, and for policy implementation,” says infrastructure expert Surya Raj Acharya. Meeting such targets would require large investment, and it would be unwise to rely on remittances for the longer run, especially as Nepal’s demographic dividend will diminish as it turns into an aged society by 2065. Reversing out migration requires a favourable investment climate so jobs are created. Good governance marked by accountability and transparency are the basic prerequisite for ease of doing business. But lack of rule of law and illicit funds put Nepal in the grey list of the Financial Action Task Force (FATF), the global money-laundering watchdog. “Everything comes down to a political will. The established parties must realise that if they don’t perform, they will be replaced by alternatives,” says Kalpana Khanal. “In the meantime, we must engage the youth and find ways to retain them as well as attract the diaspora to invest in Nepal.”

Nepal in 2050

MetLife Nepal has signed Rohit Paudel and Indu Barma, the captains of the national men’s and women’s cricket teams, to promote the importance of life insurance.

Metlife signs Nepal cricket captains

The monsoon has got bad press because Nepal’s tourism operators actively told visitors to avoid <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/managing-the-monsoon?%2F">the rainy season</a>. It is time to change that. The reason can be found right here in the vast alpine meadows of Central Nepal where this time of year you can walk on velvet grass of pastures abloom with delicate pink, red and yellow flowers as the mist rolls up the valley. There is no sound except the hum of bumble bees. &nbsp;&nbsp; There are dozens of places across high Nepal called Chaurikharka, which means yak pasture. But this particular Chaurikharka in Rukum East located at an altitude of 4,000m stands out for its serene beauty, rustic charm and bucolic setting. There is just the occasional chime of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/when-yaks-go-so-does-culture">yak bells</a> in the distance, and the sharp whistle of herders corralling sheep. &nbsp;&nbsp; The grass shoots are so fragile that one hesitates to step on them, the rounded ridges appear and quickly vanish in waves of mist. With the<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/before-the-next-monsoon"> arrival of monsoon</a>, these meadows are a soothing shade of green dotted with millions of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/the-anatomy-of-a-flower?%2F=">multi-coloured flowers</a>. Until very recently, it took a week or so to hike up to places like Chaurikharka, but with the expansion of the road network even to these far-flung mountains in the lap of Dhaulagiri, they are much more accessible. It is just a three-hour uphill from the Mid-Hill Highway on the border between Baglung and Rukum East.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250802130828_a0b06b494d751b2144ffbbf10894ea64b29e8aed844bc8c66171783abfaf4e16.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250802130828_a0b06b494d751b2144ffbbf10894ea64b29e8aed844bc8c66171783abfaf4e16" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="Visit Nepal in the monsoon"> </figure>  Purists would say that such easy access devalues the sanctity of these remote high meadows, but it also means more people will be moved to treasure the experience, appreciate <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/natures-fragile-gift-to-nepal">the value of nature </a>so they can take steps to protect it.&nbsp; To be sure, the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/deadly-monsoon-in-nepal-turns-deadlier">monsoon season can be challenging for road travel</a>. The roads are rough even at the best of times, and in the monsoon they become muddy and treacherous, often blocked by<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/monsoon-deluge-in-nepal"> landslides</a>. But that could be precisely the kind of adventure that the more intrepid visitors crave. Improved road connectivity has already made Chaurikharka and places like Badimallika &nbsp;and other sacred lakes in the mountains of western Nepal popular with domestic tourists. What is driving this traffic is the urge to go to exotic new places and share videos and selfies on social media. Several of Nepal’s travel vloggers have visited Chaurikharka and popularised the place, enticing followers on TikTok or YouTube to retrace their footsteps. But even as they become more popular, these fragile and once-remote places should be protected from over-tourism.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250731110736_f97110b7cdc3e7f80d5877690948fc9f4c95a09c583deb23b07355491e6c5446.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250731110736_f97110b7cdc3e7f80d5877690948fc9f4c95a09c583deb23b07355491e6c5446" data-rendition-name="original" width="1083" height="699" loading="lazy" alt="Visit Nepal in the monsoon NT"> </figure>  <h2>INCREASING FOOTFALL</h2> Chaurikharka is located in Bhume Rural Municipality of East Rukum, near the scenic valley of Dhorpatan in Baglung district. Even in the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/monsoon-culture">middle of the monsoon</a>, there is a steady stream of Nepali hikers trooping to these high pastures – especially during festival days like Saune Sankranti which this year was on 17 July and actually marks the auspicious beginning of the monsoon here. “This year the rains have not been as heavy and there have been some clear mornings when we could see everything from Dhaulagiri to Machapuchre,” says Khageswar Bhandari, who trekked up here from the road. “The flowers, the greenery and the snowy mountain views make this an incredibly unique place.”&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250802130824_1b9e26f2e9853fdfe69154bb42a7c9ea6da4bf4940efc1da99b304dcfbd7d3d9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20250802130824_1b9e26f2e9853fdfe69154bb42a7c9ea6da4bf4940efc1da99b304dcfbd7d3d9" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1152" loading="lazy" alt="Visit Nepal in the monsoon"> </figure>  Chaurikharka is worthwhile to get to in any season, but it has a different charm during the monsoon. Word has spread and because it is now easy to get to from Baglung or even Pokhara, people have been flocking here.&nbsp; “Holidays and Saturdays see the largest crowds, with up to 500 visitors every day,” says ward chair Mankaji Pun of Bhume.&nbsp; There was a time not too long ago when local herders brought sheep, goats, cows, buffaloes, horses, and mules to graze here during the monsoon. Although there are still livestock around, animals have been replaced by visitors taking selfies. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-monsoon-and-nature-s-arithmetic">The monsoon, and nature’s arithmetic</a>, Tom Robertson Ward Chair Pun says infrastructure development is his main priority. A foot trail to Chaurikharka was built last year by the Tourism Division Office in Kohalpur, but access via the Raniwas-Koipa road section still remains challenging.&nbsp; “If we get more budget, we can improve the road and facilities to make Chaurikharka the main tourist attraction of this region,” says Bhume Municipality Chair Hom Prakash Shrestha. “After that, we hope to promote Chaurikharka as a top tourist spot.”&nbsp; Economic activity is also picking up with the arrival of visitors, but there seems to be a need to manage the makeshift sheds made of corrugated sheets that spoil the beauty of the place. Tea shops and lodges are also available but facilities are basic. Kuldeep Neupane took a three-day trip from Ghorahi in Dang to visit Chaurikharka recently, and says: “This is an ideal trip to make a quick getaway and let nature recharge your mind and body. And it is much more fun with a tent, to watch the sunrise over the Himalaya or the mist blowing in.”

Visit Nepal in the monsoon

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

climate-induced-disasters

Himalayan floods a sign of worse to come

First drought, then downpour

Nepal in 2050

Metlife signs Nepal cricket captains

Visit Nepal in the monsoon

How the Peace Corps changed a volunteer’s life