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Those who stay

As Kathmandu becomes more congested and polluted, and with remote online work becoming the norm, many professional Nepalis are planning to retire in Pokhara, or move there.&nbsp; With its stunning mountain panorama, balmy winters and proximity to a profusion of wilderness areas, builders are responding to this demand with new townhouses, housing development and apartments. One such block of flats is the 10-storey <a href="https://sungavaapartment.com/">Sungava Apartment</a> located at Phulbari above the Seti River, near the point where it flows into and under Pokhara. The imposing structure near Manipal Hospital is almost complete, and on a recent visit the site was strewn with huge boulders unearthed while digging the foundation.&nbsp; The Seti brought down these boulders during a gigantic flood that geologists estimate happened 800 years ago when a chunk of Annapurna IV broke off and ploughed into the glacier below. Today, Sungava (means ‘orchid’) sits safely on a high terrace, 100m above the blue-green Seti and commands a view of Dhaulagiri, Annapurna South, Machapuchre, Annapurna III and IV.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024102411104_5f8fc736c86ea3c08d7bef43bb727081d3cc1a2caa55ae2b441717e6044de7e9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024102411104_5f8fc736c86ea3c08d7bef43bb727081d3cc1a2caa55ae2b441717e6044de7e9" data-rendition-name="original" width="2016" height="1512" loading="lazy" alt="High living below the Himalaya NT"> </figure>  The soil here is conglomerate that has solidified like concrete, and the boulders were extracted by heavy earthmovers. It is intriguing to think that these metamorphic rocks as big as cars, rounded by glacial grinding, were once a part of a much higher Annapurna IV. Even for those with little interest in geology, Sungava is an ideal place to contemplate the tectonic forces that pushed these peaks into the sky to be sculpted into delicate shapes by wind, snow, earthquake and avalanche over millions of years. The view of the Himalayan panorama from Sungava’s many balconies are breathtaking when not obscured by clouds, or the haze that drifts in from across the southern border. On most days, just watching the towering pyramid of Machapuchre (Tamu name: कतासुँ क्लिको) play hide and seek with the clouds is mesmerising. There are rocks aplenty at Phulbari, and it is probably the flowers that grew along the flat terraces e that gave the place its flowery name. The boulders will hopefully be turned into a rock garden while landscaping. An nearby restaurant complex is making the best use of the stones in its design, using flat rocks as outdoor benches and tables. Sungava was designed by the husband-wife architect team of Deepak Sherchan and Jyoti Joshi of <a href="https://thedarkmermaidamarbshrestha.blogspot.com/2013/12/creative-builders-collaborative-cbc.html">Creative Builders Collaborative (CBC)</a>, which also built Heritage Plaza, Indreni Apartment and numerous other projects in Nepal. Sadbhavana retains CBC’s trademark Newari-style masonry and here it borrows from the orange brickwork of the old town of Pokhara, integrating it with modern design elements. A few of those heritage houses are still standing in Ganesh Tole and Ram Krishna Tole in Pokhara’s old quarter.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024102411108_5eb64a4885961b6d30781cefeb1e8a313da313ac5227c7a66b60f0c7d48d6fab.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2024102411108_5eb64a4885961b6d30781cefeb1e8a313da313ac5227c7a66b60f0c7d48d6fab" data-rendition-name="original" width="1362" height="595" loading="lazy" alt="High living below the Himalaya NT"> </figure>  About 400m from the apartment past a bend on the river, and down below three tiers of terraces in the canyon is a suspension bridge. Below it, the Seti is still swollen with post-monsoon flow as it tumbles away in a hurry to head down south.&nbsp; Back at the apartment, it is quiet, far away from the hubbub of Lakeside a 15 minute drive away, and in the lap of greenery. There are 52 units at Sungava and it already has a close-knit prospective community of professionals, including doctors, publishers, engineers, and businesspeople from the renewable energy and IT sectors.&nbsp; Some residents say they opted for a second home in Pokhara to make it a ‘base camp’ to explore the Annapurnas with its many hiking trails made newly accessible with new roads. With the NRN citizenship law, overseas Nepalis can now also buy the flats. &nbsp; The floor plans include options for north and south-facing 3-bedroom apartments with verandas, and the facility has underground parking has EV charging, heated pool, sauna and gym. There are still some unsold apartments with panoramic views of the mountains and one can imagine oneself at the kitchen with its huge window, humming a ditty while preparing breakfast: “खाना पकाउँ हिमाल हेरेर...”

High living below the Himalaya

Dasain is here, the festival of family and travel. The spirit is dampened this year because of the flood disaster, and many highways are still blocked.&nbsp; But Nepali Times takes the occasion of this ten-day festival to present Top Ten Peaks that are <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/women-on-the-move">off the beaten trek</a>, and offer stunning views. They are not too demanding but take you far from the madding crowd. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-journey-is-more-interesting-than-the-destination">Escape</a>. 1. Kori Peak Most visitors to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/letter-from-sikles">Sikles </a>are en route to Kapuche, the l<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/kah-phu-che">owest glacial lake in Nepal</a> (2,450m). But for better views hire a local guide, and cross the Madi Khola to climb to Kori (3,800m), a ridge-top summer pasture. There will be no trekkers on this little known jewel of the Himalaya. Lamjung Himal is dead ahead, and the adventurous may want to continue on to Namun La, the old trading route to Manang. 2. Panchase Hill&nbsp; This long ridge walk can be stretched as long as you want. Start at the Peace Stupa above Pokhara, and hike the forested ridge overlooking Phewa Lake with spectacular 120 degree panoramas of Dhaulagiri to Himalchuli. Along the way are villages untouched by the trekking industry. The highest point at <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/economic-benefits-of-saving-the-ecology">Panchase</a> Hill is ‘only’ 2,500m. Binoculars are a must for bird-watching.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241004041056_a62462e446decb0356b35138abd277ca122af0e8baa404087c8ae980c12fc114.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20241004041056_a62462e446decb0356b35138abd277ca122af0e8baa404087c8ae980c12fc114" data-rendition-name="original" width="1363" height="669" loading="lazy" alt="Trekking map NT"> </figure>  3. Khumai Peak Directly north of Pokhara is this 3,245m peak that is becoming popular since a road to Hemja now cuts short the trek for a two-day-up-one-day-down hike. At the top you look up to the imposing south face of Machapuchre. The trail is not well trodden yet (that is why you are there) but lodges have sprung up. Hike further up to Korchan Danda (3,710m) for the magic of a Himalayan sunrise. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 4. Mulde Peak If you have been there and done that on Poon Hill, then<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/mulde-peak,1759"> Mulde (3,637) is higher, wilder and quieter</a>. The trail branches off at Tadapani from the Ghandruk-Ghorepani route and climbs steeply through thick forests draped with lichen and orchids. There is a lodge at the base for overnight stay. Next morning ascend for one hour to the top for a breathtaking sunrise over the Annapurna ramparts, Machapuchre and Dhaulagiri. For more, trek on to Khopra Ridge and Hidden Lake.&nbsp; 5. Pikey Peak  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241004051028_2d1071364abec8b2a37fa620c1a641c7e4c8449b8bc4384a36ffc58f34c67c7f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20241004051028_2d1071364abec8b2a37fa620c1a641c7e4c8449b8bc4384a36ffc58f34c67c7f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1001" loading="lazy" alt="Pikey peak "> <figcaption>Photo: MANISH PAUDEL / NEPALI TIMES ARCHIVE</figcaption> </figure>  The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/lifetime-experience-on-pikey-peak">must-climb in Solukhumbu is Pikey</a> (4,065m) that none other than Edmund Hillary described as one of the best lookouts in the Himalaya. On a clear day you see eight eight-thousander peaks all in a row: (east-west) Kangchenjunga, Makalu, Lhotse, Everest, Cho Oyu, Shishapangma, Manaslu and Annapurna. If the highway to Phaplu is not repaired by Dasain, fly to Phaplu from where it can be three days and two nights up and down. 6. Pathibhara Peak Combine pilgrimage with a hike to climb up to Pathibhara (3,794) after either driving or flying to Taplejung. Nepal’s most scenic peaks all have temples on top. The view from Pathibhara of Kangchenjunga, Jannu, Makalu and Lhotse-Everest feels sacred even if you are not religiously minded. It is one day up, and half-day down. Good idea to strike Pathibhara off your bucket list before the cable car gets there.&nbsp; 7. Gokyo Ri  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241004051028_83417ded1111fd19aaa2b321625681fedd3a1c7aa47f28c44444a343d691e3d2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20241004051028_83417ded1111fd19aaa2b321625681fedd3a1c7aa47f28c44444a343d691e3d2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="View from Gokyo"> <figcaption>The last light of the day highlighting Mt Everest, Nuptse and Lhotse 20km away, captured from the Gokyo Ri. Photo: AÏSHA MACDOUGALL / NPALI TIMES </figcaption> </figure>  Everest Base Camp is crowded and desolate, with no view of the highest mountain in the world. Head off, instead, from Khumjung to the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/go-gokyo">Gokyo Valley and along the Ngozumba</a> (Nepal's longest glacier) to a village by the lake that is the highest all-year human settlement in the world. Charge your head torch, and head off on a 2-3 hour climb up to Gokyo Ri (5,357m) to watch the sun set with all its glory on Mt Everest, Lhotse, Makalu, Kangchenjunga, and Cho Oyu. The trek can be extended up Renjo La to Thame, or Cho La to Everest Base Camp. &nbsp; 8. Sailung Peak&nbsp; Take a right turn on the Jiri Highway at Mude along a rough road till Lamche Ahal and then hike the next morning to Thulo Sailung Peak (3,146m). This is one of the highest points in southern Dolakha district and the view is spectacular with everything from Manaslu to Numbur, a 200km sweep of the horizon. Dominating the scene is Gauri Shankar (Chomo Tseringma). Nepali hikers have started going to Sailung to shoot YouTube videos. 9. Panch Pokhari This is one of the nearest and most accessible treks from Kathmandu, starting after a five hour drive to Okhareni via Chautara to five sacred lakes dominated by a ridge (4,250m) with full frontal views of Dorje Lakpa and Phurbi Ghyachu of the Jugal Himal Range. You have the trail mostly to yourself. The path climbs through forests of dwarf rhododendron teeming with birdlife.&nbsp; 10. Kyanjin Peak  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241004051036_4eab1082528a9bc8ce5ee6429bdb6f6edbb2caf15460dd6a7c10056146930fd7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20241004051036_4eab1082528a9bc8ce5ee6429bdb6f6edbb2caf15460dd6a7c10056146930fd7" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Kyanjin NT"> <figcaption>Kyanjin is the highest settlement in the Langtang Valley. Photo: KUNDA DIXIT</figcaption> </figure>  Langtang National Park is the closest real wilderness area near Kathmandu that also offers culture and adventure. Start walking from Dhunche, one night stop and we are in Langtang Valley passing the village that was buried in the avalanche after the 2015 earthquake. Kyanjin Gompa (3,835m) is now called ‘Thamel on the Hill’, and that is not a complimentary description. But it is a good base camp to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-story-of-langtang-cheese">explore the Valley</a>, including climbing Kyanjin Ri (4,773) for a grandstand view of Langtang Lirung (7,234m).

Peak Season

This late monsoon storm was not a surprise. Weather forecasts had warned of heavy precipitation a week before, the Met Office predicted heavy rain on 27-28 September, SMS warned people to take precaution, radio stations issued bulletins, and night buses were banned in 56 districts.&nbsp; The tragedy was compounded because we knew what was coming, and did not do enough to prepare. The accurate weather forecast made no real difference on the ground. When it started raining on Thursday morning and did not stop till Saturday, there was no sense of the scale of this emergency. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/60-dead-64-missing-in-nepal-floods">More than 200 people lost their lives, dozens are still missing.</a> Thousands of homes were swept away, Nepal lost nearly half its electricity generation capacity because of damage to power plants, Kathmandu has been nearly cut off with bridges and sections of highways swept away. Yes, this was primarily a natural disaster. Kathmandu Valley and its surroundings got half the average annual precipitation in just 40 hours, the heaviest rainfall measured since records started being kept in 1972. But the high death toll was totally manmade.&nbsp; Three buses were buried by a mudslide in Dhading, killing at least 35 people. This was an eerie reminder of the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/100-101-102-hh5uvzf9">Simaltal accident on 12 July </a>when two intercity buses were swept by a mudflow into the Trisuli River at night, killing 62. The buses have still not been found.&nbsp; In both cases, heavy rainfall on a poorly engineered local road up the mountains triggered the initial landslide that swept debris to the highway below. This was manslaughter, not an ‘accident’.&nbsp; We said it then, and we are saying it now: most mountain roads follow no reason or science. It is a corruption-fed activity in which local governments and their cronies plan roads ad hoc and rent their own bulldozers. Debris accumulated during construction is dumped over the edge, where monsoon rains wash them to settlements, farms and highways below. Last weekend’s disaster is a warning that accurate weather early warning is just the first step – it is not enough to prevent a huge loss of life. After the warnings, there should have been door-to-door miking along hazardous river banks urging people to move to higher ground, shelters should have been in place, rescue equipment and rafts pre-positioned, live monitoring of precipitation in the catchments. The National Disaster Risk Reduction and Management Authority (NDRRMA) was just posting situationers on social media. The Home Ministry became a Ministry of Condolences and Empty Promises.&nbsp; This disaster is a reminder of the 1993 Central Nepal cloudburst that hit the Lothar Khola in Chitwan, the Kulekhani areas, and highways blocked highways marooning Kathmandu for weeks. More than 1,300 people were killed.&nbsp; The death toll in Kathmandu this time was compounded by the fact that the city has spread into the floodplains of the Vishnumati, Manohara and other tributaries of the Bagmati. Natural waterways have been hemmed in by streets. The rivers were just reclaiming what was theirs.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240930150944_1221b4fb442a21e8d2dbf1aeeca61b7a8d791c117d6a93401f15ba2a95d49a69.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20240930150944_1221b4fb442a21e8d2dbf1aeeca61b7a8d791c117d6a93401f15ba2a95d49a69" data-rendition-name="original" width="1949" height="1299" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal floods"> <figcaption>Kathmandu Valley, especially its southern fringes looks like an epicentre of a major quake following the rains. Photo: SUMAN NEPALI</figcaption> </figure>  Urban pressure has also forced settlements to move up the Valley’s rim, below steep hillsides with topsoil already saturated in the late monsoon. The torrential downpours caused the slopes to fail. The damage to Upper Tamakosi and dozens of other hydropower plants also is a warning not to put all our eggs in one basket. The Sikkim disaster exactly this time last year was proof that these are at high risk from glacial lake floods and landslide dammed rivers suddenly bursting. More logical would be to build smaller, better designed, plants on many rivers. The Himalaya is also the youngest and most fragile mountain range on earth, Nepal has always had either too much or too little water, and climate breakdown is making this contrast more extreme. Combined, this means we in Nepal live in a multi-disaster prone country with seismic, hydrological and climate risks.&nbsp; After multiple floods in early 1990s, a Japanese grant helped set up the Disaster Prevention Technical Centre (DPTC) in Pulchowk, which was later renamed the Department of Water Induced Disaster Management. We have not heard much from them lately. With the government AWOL, it is ordinary Nepalis who have shown extraordinary courage in saving those being swept by flood water, rescuing babies on canoes (pictured), or digging for passengers trapped in buses buried by landslides. The Nepal Army and the Police rescued thousands, but there was an absence of coordination.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240930150944_cb55edb93eb3aad169b22bc4dec06b5478746fbe75417c628bf671ec698f7912.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20240930150944_cb55edb93eb3aad169b22bc4dec06b5478746fbe75417c628bf671ec698f7912" data-rendition-name="original" width="1080" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal floods"> <figcaption>Photo: SOCIAL MEDIA</figcaption> </figure>  Now, the attention must focus on urgent relief and rehabilitation. But that might be a tall ask just before everything shuts down for Dasain, and when governance fails, lack of accountability and transparency is the norm even without holidays.&nbsp; Sonia Awale

When it rains it pours

There was controlled chaos at the Chhaya Centre on 8 September before the premiere of <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N2EXOwDgrIg&amp;t=25s">Shambhala</a>, which has made history as the first South Asian film to be selected for the 2023 Berlinale in-competition lineup in three decades. <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm5336883/">Director Min Bahadur Bham</a> ran around, dreadlocks flailing, to test the DCP in the projection room and welcome an all-star lineup of guests. Even so, he found time to sit down with us for an interview in a quiet corner in the lobby. Despite visible signs of stress, Bham’s passion for his craft shines through. The premiere was the culmination of years of work, but as Bham tells it, the true essence of filmmaking is the journey itself.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240912100956_fe4bb576edb2f6ca22d460c425a8b9fdf8d3855dd4e9cac9e13fb56a69094cdd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20240912100956_fe4bb576edb2f6ca22d460c425a8b9fdf8d3855dd4e9cac9e13fb56a69094cdd" data-rendition-name="original" width="616" height="585" loading="lazy" alt="Min Bham NT 3 "> </figure>  Min Bahadur Bham, 40, was born in isolated Mugu. As a boy he already knew he wanted to be a film director after his photographer and journalist father bought a cinema hall in his hometown.&nbsp; While watching Bollywood movies there, his friends all wanted to be actors and would imitate the mannerisms of their favourite stars. But Bham craved something more.&nbsp; “Even back then, I wondered who tells the actors what to do. There must be someone guiding and coordinating their performance,” he says. “I didn’t know at the time that it was done by a director, but I instinctively felt that was the person I wanted to be.”&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/a-director-from-kathmandu">A director from Kathmandu</a>, Sewa Bhattarai This early fascination set Bham on a journey that would take him far, far away from Mugu. In Grade 8 he was already saving money for film school, and by Grade 10 he had run away from home. He started in theatre in Kathmandu, learning acting, lighting, set design, and costume. This theatre background proved to be formative and influenced his later approach to cinema. “If I had to choose, I’d still give more points to theatre,” he tells us. “It’s a pure art form, it has a poetic and an artistic sense to it, requiring discipline and hard work, unlike the finances and glamour of cinema.” Beyond filmmaking, Bham developed a deep interest in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/medication-to-meditation-in-the-mountains">spirituality</a>. “Creating art is a form of meditation,” Bham says, his eyes shimmering with intensity. “Filmmaking, like meditation, requires pouring all of yourself into it.” His debut feature,<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/must-see/Kalo-pothi-review,3101"> Kalo Pothi (The Black Hen)</a> premiered at the Venice Film Festival in 2015, earning critical acclaim for its nuanced portrayal of two boys caught in the crossfire of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/all-is-fair-in-war-and-peace">Nepal’s Maoist insurgency</a>. The film’s success, however, left Bham ambivalent.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240912110924_b4333fc1aeefc7adc6160a183f0dfc8ca5ee8cd66df6eab085f47436d83c8c4b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20240912110924_b4333fc1aeefc7adc6160a183f0dfc8ca5ee8cd66df6eab085f47436d83c8c4b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1442" height="1008" loading="lazy" alt="Movie posters NT"> </figure>  “I felt burdened by the success," he confides. “Looking back, I’m critical about its lack of cinematic language: it felt more like a film essay.”&nbsp; Read more: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Narrating-stories-of-nepal,3082">Narrating Nepal</a>, Smriti Basnet Kalo Pothi was a personal story of Bham’s own memories when his friends in school were joining the Maoists, and he heard of the disappearances. A recurring theme in both Kalo Pothi and Shambhala is childhood. “All the characters in my films are reflections of myself,” Bham confesses. “Of course, they’re manipulated for the sake of the narrative, but their essence is drawn from my own childhood when I was very fragile and introverted.” As a boy, instead of playing with children his age, Bham preferred hanging out with older people, listening to their stories: “I missed out on a normal childhood, but had a wonderful one nonetheless.” These early experiences, the memories and nostalgia, became invaluable storytelling tools for cinema, and his PhD in anthropology was an asset as well. “As a filmmaker, it’s essential to grasp the nuances of human behaviour, culture, and politics,” he explains.&nbsp; Before Kalo Pothi, Bham wanted to study political science to get a &nbsp;deeper, holistic understanding of what was happening in Nepali society at the time.&nbsp; But it is with Shambhala that Bham truly comes into his own as a director. "Kalo Pothi was my love letter to my society, and Shambhala is a love letter to my existence,” he says.&nbsp; Shambhala benefits from Bham’s own spiritual journey. He started meditating at age 12, becoming a more serious practitioner by 15. “Through meditation, I began having vivid recurring dreams of a past life as a lama in a monastery in Dolpo,” he says.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/daughter-of-chomolungma">Daughter of Chomolungma</a>, Pinki Sris Rana He travelled to Dolpo, where the terrain and people matched the dreamscape of the places from his meditation. “It was a surreal moment,” he says. “That’s when I realised I had to make Shambhala, to explore the subconscious and discover what I didn’t know.” When the film was selected for the Berlinale, Bham admits he was not very excited, perhaps because he was confident it was going to go places. In Berlin he did not attend any parties, cancelling all interviews and official meetings.&nbsp; “I wanted to be at peace and simply observe. I didn’t want to get caught up in the networking or the festivities,” he recalls. Though polyandry is a central element of Shambhala, Bham says it only serves as a backdrop to an inner quest into the meaning of existence, femininity and reincarnation. “Dolpo offers such incredible landscape that you can point the camera at anything and it will be stunning,” he says. “But it was not a love story, so I used the mountains as characters themselves.” Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/streaming-the-himalaya-on-film">Streaming the Himalaya on film</a>, Pinki Sris Rana The film’s protagonist is Pema (played by<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-star-shines-in-locarno"> Thinley Lhamo</a> for which she won the<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0iCvN6jHVMQ&amp;t=973s"> Boccalino d’Oro Prize for Best Acting Performance at Locarno</a> last month) whose power and freedom challenge patriarchal norms.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240912110944_491763c06fc1827cd131157b9b3750c9831ee8252fb1d378769dc800170c7f67.jpg" data-media-id="editor_13" data-image-id="20240912110944_491763c06fc1827cd131157b9b3750c9831ee8252fb1d378769dc800170c7f67" data-rendition-name="original" width="1080" height="719" loading="lazy" alt="Berlin film festival NT"> </figure>  “Pema’s character is a reflection of inner strength and independence, transcending gender,” Bham explains. “As a male director, I also wanted to explore my feminine side to understand it more deeply.”&nbsp; Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/feminity-to-masculinity,1952">From femininity to masculinity</a>, Bernardo Michael and George Varughese He adds that, in Shambhala the male characters reflect aspects of himself, while Pema represents his feminine side: “Developing the characters, I made sure the male side did not overshadow the feminine side in me.” Bham is researching ideas for his next film which might, for a change, be set in Kathmandu or Angkor Wat to discover his artistic sensibility, irrespective of locale.&nbsp; More than a geographical journey, Min Bahadur Bham is on an artistic voyage deep into his inner being to find the meaning of existence itself. &nbsp; Shambhala is set to release on 13 September in cinemas with Nepali and English subtitles.

Min Bahadur Bham’s cinematic quest

The Himalayas can be seen as a heap of rocks covered in ice and snow, aloof and permanent. But what of the intangible, non-physical Himalayas — the heritage, culture, songs, languages, festivals, lives and livelihoods? The mountains are in flux, and some of the changes to the climate and weather are global in nature while others are local — outmigration and influences of the outside world. Wang Lama is deeply affected by the changes he sees around him, and using his art tries to peer into the future. Will the Himalayas as we know it survive in the coming decades? He shares these worries in his solo exhibition, In Search of Vanishing Identities at the Takpa Gallery.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240603140644_cd82723e54e2445a1faa9ecd2a67716de3d09b0173f000a14bbb153a48cb4a88.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20240603140644_cd82723e54e2445a1faa9ecd2a67716de3d09b0173f000a14bbb153a48cb4a88" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Wang Lama"></figure>  Will the yaks, the monasteries, monks and prayer flags be just a memory? Taking the reference of villages of three trans-Himalayan districts (Humla, Mustang and Manang) Lama mostly uses pen and ink with watercolour to bring us minutely detailed Himalayan landscapes. Lama takes refuge in Himalayan architecture and art, his works primarily focusing on the remnants of the past and sites of the present.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240603140644_6eaa5442c9fccb2abd191d5cf38fc3962d1cf05f1ffc45848026652b7078d96e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20240603140644_6eaa5442c9fccb2abd191d5cf38fc3962d1cf05f1ffc45848026652b7078d96e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1056" loading="lazy" alt="Wang Lama"><figcaption>Artist Wang Lama</figcaption></figure>  “We have always associated identity with people and our cultural dress. But what about the knowledge, architecture, and art of these places?” asks the 35-year-old artist rhetorically. “Villages are emptying out, and city dwellers are migrating abroad, there is no one left to recognise the knowledge, to witness the pace of change and associate our space with their vanishing identity.” A traveller artist, Lama draws as he goes from place to place. Born in the Nyin Valley of remote Humla, Lama is nostalgic about the places of his childhood among the arid mountains of northwest Nepal. Those places are no longer what they were, he worries. In some of his exhibits, he takes a broader temporal perspective taking us back in time when yak caravans carried rock salt through the mountain trails whose existence is slowly vanishing. Simultaneously, he yanks us back to the present with the works showcasing abandoned alleys, houses and monasteries.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240603140644_d976cfd07d92c6ed46a02f78810c3240cc6e674c57dc3bdea322f874380de855.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20240603140644_d976cfd07d92c6ed46a02f78810c3240cc6e674c57dc3bdea322f874380de855" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="2133" loading="lazy" alt="Wang Lama"></figure>  Lama has also captured Manang and its changing landscape in Golden Hour which is a mix media on canvas depicting traditional mud houses, each with a waving vertical prayer flag. There is a wisp of smoke rising from the houses, and in the middle is an incongruous concrete house. A dilapidated traditional stupa stands amidst the mud houses and a concrete stupa lies next to the concrete. “I wanted to show how modernity can kill the essence of a place,” Lama explains. “Today, everyone is opting for concrete structures and the traditional stupa which was made from stones brought from each household in the locality is being replaced with cement. The idea of everyone coming together to build something is gone.” Then there are prayer wheels embedded in walls, paintings and carvings on windows and doors, and alcoves embedded in the stone walls of traditional houses. The colours red, blue, white, green and yellow represent the five elements of nature in Buddhist philosophy — and serve as a motif in most of Lama’s art.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240603140640_b75f9b7477a8ba00c149bcd81ee7e94056f3027c85c06ce85a43a53afcea2b52.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20240603140640_b75f9b7477a8ba00c149bcd81ee7e94056f3027c85c06ce85a43a53afcea2b52" data-rendition-name="original" width="1742" height="2501" loading="lazy" alt="Wang Lama"></figure>  There is a rustic tone in every piece, and Lama says, “In the past, our ancestors built houses that were a part of nature. The holes in the mud houses were deliberately made as nesting areas for birds, they were a refuge to birds as much as for humans.” Birds help pollination and insect control in the shrinking arable land of the Himalayas. In the piece Eternal Silence, a monk is meditating inside a sky cave facing the stupa.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240603140644_2e8a9c181a0d2af74c01cdaa45f5b8a37e2b5057b61b3efe2ed6356078ed5517.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20240603140644_2e8a9c181a0d2af74c01cdaa45f5b8a37e2b5057b61b3efe2ed6356078ed5517" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1048" loading="lazy" alt="Wang Lama"></figure>  “The stone stupa, the sky caves of Mustang and even the monkhood are all on the verge of extinction, and this painting documents their memory,” says Lama. Though the exhibition’s dominant theme is the changing Himalayan landscapes and its fragile ecosystem, each of Lama’s works also raises the global changes that are affecting us all as we grapple with figuring out the type of world we want to live in. Is it the world centred solely on human ‘progress’ we want to be part of, or a tradition that believed in co-existing with nature? In Search of Vanishing Identities 11AM- 6PM (Tuesday to Thursdays) 11AM- 7PM (Fridays to Sundays) Till 9 June Takpa Gallery, Lazimpat

Pinki Sris Rana

Between losing and loss

Animal tracking is an art that has been practiced by traditional peoples for thousands of years for hunting and survival. Gathering evidence about an animal with tracks, scat, and other signs, they locate, trail, and interpret its behaviour in the wild.&nbsp; In Nepal, although indigenous people like the Raute, sikari hunters and a few naturalists use tracking, the knowledge is diminishing. Between 1993-1995, I lived in what was then the remote village of Khandbari of Sankwasabha district to help establish the 2,300 km2 Makalu-Barun National Park. I started making and collecting plaster casts of the mammal tracks encountered along the forest trails, riverbanks, fields, and alpine areas.&nbsp; My friend and co-manager was Narayan Poudel who was tragically killed in the 2006 helicopter crash in the Kanchenjunga Conservation Area. He was enthusiastic about the collection and encouraged me to make plaster casts of as many tracks as possible that could be used in a natural history book about the Makalu-Barun National Park someday. Natural History of the Wild Side of Everest by Frances Klatzel was eventually published. My main teachers were the Rai sikari hunters whom accompanied me on treks through the park. They had grown up learning about the forests, animal tracks, and hunting and trapping (paso) techniques. They were also experts at identifying edible, utilitarian, and medicinal plants, and could live quite comfortably for months if given nothing more than a kukuri and a little salt. Hunting was prohibited in the national park and buffer zone but there were local people with a hunting background who were among the best naturalists that I had ever encountered. They were fluent in the flora and fauna of the forests in which they lived. They could mimic dozens of bird and animal calls, follow a trail over solid rock, and often knew the names of the birds, mammals, and reptiles in three languages. I observed my guide Bhakta Ram Rai examine a set of fresh tracks made the night before just outside of our camp near Walung. Just on the basis of that track he could infer that the tracks were rounded, wider than long, with three-lobed footpads and four, somewhat rounded toes. &nbsp;No claw marks, except occasionally at steep and muddy trail inclines. &nbsp; The animal was large, walking, unhurried, with a body length of about 1.5m, shoulder height of 40cm, and weight of approximately 50kg, most likely male. &nbsp;The tracks were made between 4 to 6 hours previously, just after the misty rain. It was the leopard which had dined on a barking deer recently.&nbsp; Fast forward to 2019. I had been to Nepal many times in the interim period and dozens of plaster casts I had made 25 years before remained stored in cardboard boxes in my basement wrapped in Rising Nepal newspapers from 1994.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240603040640_2e6b41d0d5a1eea47460289caa4a16ecf3ae0297e1abe76120ce2b3f659309aa.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20240603040640_2e6b41d0d5a1eea47460289caa4a16ecf3ae0297e1abe76120ce2b3f659309aa" data-rendition-name="original" width="640" height="480" loading="lazy" alt="Mammal tracking in Nepal"> <figcaption>Rubber molds of various Himalayan mammals presented to the Natural History Museum in May of 2022.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240603040640_d8e9fa64038b6bc232a12744f103cb5fd97d674671bea4bea5d163fe7ae43195.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20240603040640_d8e9fa64038b6bc232a12744f103cb5fd97d674671bea4bea5d163fe7ae43195" data-rendition-name="original" width="2448" height="3264" loading="lazy" alt="mammal tracking in Nepal"> <figcaption>Silicone rubber track molds (left) and the plaster casts from which they are made (right) for (top to bottom) sambar, Himalayan black bear, and tiger.</figcaption> </figure>  &nbsp;I was able to make 30 or more plaster casts of bear, leopard, barking deer, tiger, chital, sloth bear, snow leopard, wild buffalo, blue sheep, and pika tracks, and turn them into a silicone rubber moulds to make them durable, so they could be used as a teaching tool for students of natural history. The Natural History Museum in Kathmandu has a collection of over 50,000 plant, animal, and fungi. Its head Ganesh Bahadur Thapa was enthusiastic about using the track casts as an educaitonal tool and they are currently on display there together with later collections of snow leopard, blue sheep, Tibetan wolf casts, as well as Tarai species.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240603040644_9746d8deb0a89c60a53bfa4097ecef1c43e258bad56842d971c2795935880ab8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20240603040644_9746d8deb0a89c60a53bfa4097ecef1c43e258bad56842d971c2795935880ab8" data-rendition-name="original" width="2976" height="1984" loading="lazy" alt="mammal tracking in Nepal"> <figcaption>Students at the Basha Valley Shgar in Balistan, Pakistan examine a plaster cast they made from a silicone rubber mold of a snow leopard track during “Snow Leopard Day.” Photo: Baltistan Wildlife Conservation and Development Organization</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240603040644_ad8be607af056524db03bc56487150f29018a03d226cd88a41f7d3a8374ca61f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20240603040644_ad8be607af056524db03bc56487150f29018a03d226cd88a41f7d3a8374ca61f" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="3024" loading="lazy" alt="mammal tracking in Nepal"> <figcaption>Several of the silicone rubber mammal track molds are displayed at the Natural History Museum.</figcaption> </figure>  Ideally, the next step will be to develop mammal tracking and natural history educational programs for students throughout Nepal as they ahve in Baltistan in Pakistan. “Making school children aware of snow leopard behaviour and its habitat, and teaching them about tracks and tracking from a young age will significantly contribute to survival of the species,” says Ghana Gurung, director of the WWF Nepal.&nbsp; Wildlife educational programs are particularly important at a time when Nepal becomes more and more urbanised, with children spending less and less time in the natural world. Tracking opportunities abound even on the outskirts of towns. Common leopard, wild boar, and barking deer tracks, for example, can be found along the sides of the roads on the Kathmandu Valley rim.&nbsp; A basic knowledge of tracks and tracking would also be of immense value to Nepal’s growing numbers of natural history and trekking guides, most of whom seem to be fluent in birds and mammals, but lack the interpretational skills of their forebears. Natural History Museum staff will also be trained in mould making techniques so that its tack collection can continue to grow. Says Ganesh Bahadur Thapa of the Natural History Museum: “The first mammalian silicone rubber moulds amassed over three decades of work in Nepal is now a valuable asset of the museum. It can enhance awareness of wildlife in Nepal, and contribute to conservation efforts.”&nbsp; Alton C Byers, PhD is Senior Research Scientist at the Institute for Arctic and Alpine Research (INSTAAR), University of Colorado at Boulder in the United States.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240603040644_5d8acfd4a58cc5659fbd96f10e5d7bd287d48760a38150480abab5137d93276c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20240603040644_5d8acfd4a58cc5659fbd96f10e5d7bd287d48760a38150480abab5137d93276c" data-rendition-name="original" width="4000" height="3000" loading="lazy" alt="mammal tracking in Nepal"> <figcaption>Ganesh Bahadur Thapa (fourth from left) and Alton C Byers (third from left) at the Natural History Museum in Kathmandu in May 2023.</figcaption> </figure>  Natural history of the planet ‘Animal tracks are the transient reminders of who has passed and what they were doing – in short, a paragraph in the maker's life history book. Normally tracks are gone for eternity but casts retain the story of sentient beings for others to read, comprehend and contemplate through a thoughtful naturalist's mind. Learn to read the story. &nbsp;Preserve a track, save the natural history of planet earth.’ -Dr Jim Halfpenny, President, A Naturalist's World, Gardner, Montana, USA

Tracking Himalayan wildlife

The rugged mountains of Rukum East are all covered in late snow. After a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/first-drought-then-downpour">prolonged drought</a>, it has finally snowed, but it is too late for the high altitude meadows to grow again. They have all dried up. &nbsp; At 3,720m, visitors rarely make it to the high pasture at Ma Kharka. But even until 20 years ago, every family in the village of Lugum brought its sheep and mountain goats for grazing up here. Shepherds with their flocks spent half a year in what used to be cool, green patches of grasslands. Very few do so now. Rassa Gurung, 60, is one the last few shepherds carrying on their <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/village-of-the-climbers">ancestral occupation</a>. “I started coming here as a baby, slung over my mother’s back. We didn’t read and write back then, we all helped our parents tend the sheep,” he says. Gurung knows every corner of this pasture like the back of his hand. His sheep used to graze freely, but now he has to watch out that they do not wander into someone’s farm or enter the nearby community forest.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024021517020_1112590731e0e52430463cd0bbf6e400e24f846d284b2fc42b8010da24b7da70.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2024021517020_1112590731e0e52430463cd0bbf6e400e24f846d284b2fc42b8010da24b7da70" data-rendition-name="original" width="1750" height="995" loading="lazy" alt="Climate crisis ruins Himalayan pastoralists NT"> <figcaption>Rassa Gurung is one the last few shepherds carrying on their ancestral occupation.</figcaption> </figure>  Mt Dhaulagiri looms in the distance, and even that high up there is little snow this year. It looks like a giant dark rock. The sheep are also dying from mysterious causes. “Some 40-50 sheep die every year now, I myself have only 150 sheep now, down from 300 four years ago,” says Gurung. “Most of them die because they eat poisonous grass, as the edible grass does not grow in time. Some are eaten by leopards and bears.” He adds: “It rains when it is not supposed to and it does not snow when it is supposed to. Sometimes it does not snow till March, and other times it does not rain until June, so there is no grass to graze on.” High mountain communities are<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/climate-change-is-a-disaster-in-the-nepal-himalaya"> disproportionately affected by the climate crisis</a>. This year was one of the hottest ones Nepal has experienced. “Farmers are affected directly by the increase in the average temperature. Unpredictable seasonal changes can lead to the growth of new species, and native indigenous plants disappear,” explains climate scientist Ngamindra Dahal. He adds: “Rainfall patterns have also changed. At times we have unseasonal cloudbursts, other times there is no winter rain and we get droughts. The absence of snow has affected sheep herders.”&nbsp; Indeed, new kinds of grasses have started growing and for shepherds like Gurung, there is no way to know if they are edible.&nbsp; Botanist Bhakta Bahadur Raskoti agrees that climate change has affected the growth of edible grass for sheep and goats in high mountain areas. “Because of climate change, grass species from the Tarai are now found in the mountains, while mountain grasses have moved up,” he adds. Shepherd Jore Pun, 43, used to have 350 sheep a few years ago, but now has only 250.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024021517020_6dd609e1837506d6a623b9c6217cae8b7da0909ee445a1d0d1fe13cf277fef87.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2024021517020_6dd609e1837506d6a623b9c6217cae8b7da0909ee445a1d0d1fe13cf277fef87" data-rendition-name="original" width="1250" height="751" loading="lazy" alt="Climate crisis ruins Himalayan pastoralists. NT"> <figcaption>Jore Pun</figcaption> </figure>  Lugum used to be a large sheep farming village in Rukum East. Half of the 400 households here used to herd sheep and goats. Today, there are 500 households but only 35 are pastoralists.&nbsp; The Magar people make up the majority of the Rukum East population. To them, sheep rearing used to be a way of life here. The sheep are sacrificed during their festivals and women make clothing from their wool. With the sheep gone, these traditions are now in decline. “Our grasslands are depleting and sheep rearing has become unfeasible,” says ward chair Mankaji Pun. “Moreover, young men are moving out for jobs in the cities or overseas. They are abandoning their ancestral occupation.” <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/no-country-for-young-men-c89lgrrl">Many men from here have left for the Gulf</a>, Malaysia or India. Youth here are also increasingly taking the backdoor to America. Only the women, the elderly and children are left.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240215190216_a8e5bf8de837acaf13c1c9d966a3316bb7098b3d6c12da9d65323d920445c19b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20240215190216_a8e5bf8de837acaf13c1c9d966a3316bb7098b3d6c12da9d65323d920445c19b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1700" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Temperature map NT"> </figure>  Every household here has <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepalis-take-backdoor-to-the-american-dream">at least one member in the USA</a>. These families spend as high as Rs6 million to make their way there, borrowed from local lenders at high interest. The ones who remain are averse to hard work. Dilchan Pun Magar of Lugum was rearing sheep until three years ago. He had 200 of them. Unable to make a living, he also kept side jobs. He has now completely given up on sheep rearing and operates a hotel. “We couldn’t modernise sheep farming. It was a lot of work and we barely made any money, so I ended up leaving it altogether,” says Pun Magar. Rassa Gurung is still supporting his family by selling sheep. He says he makes Rs400,000 a year, and the income goes to paying for his children’s education. “But my children are not interested in taking after me, they think it is too much work,” he adds.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024021517020_8a63eabfb7287bf84d8a5a9753b343eec25c4607ed67b8610316d40af46b16ab.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="2024021517020_8a63eabfb7287bf84d8a5a9753b343eec25c4607ed67b8610316d40af46b16ab" data-rendition-name="original" width="1523" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Climate crisis ruins Himalayan pastoralists NT"> </figure>  Jore Pun also cites the new generation’s lack of interest as a reason for the decline of sheep farming. He says, “People started going to school. Now everyone is migrating. Sheep farming is a lot of work, after all.” There are still about 22,000 sheep in Rukum East, according to the Ministry of Agriculture and Livestock Development. Two years ago, there were nearly 800,000 sheep across the country. It is now down to 770,000. This decrease in sheep numbers has similarly affected the production of meat, down from 2,964 metric tons last year to 2,880 this year. Wool production has also decreased, from 584,000kg two years ago to 567,412 this year.&nbsp; Translated for the Nepali original published on himalkhabar.com

Climate crisis ruins Himalayan pastoralists

Yartsa gunbu, commonly dubbed the caterpillar fungus or ‘Nature’s Viagra’, is rightly famous across the Himalayas and beyond.&nbsp; And with a market value of between $20,000-40,000 per kg thanks to its huge medicinal properties, it’s small wonder people across the region are on their hands and knees across these mountains to track the stuff down. But it’s not just for its extraordinary economic value that it’s worth admiring this wonder fungus. In fact, what’s far more remarkable is the sheer uniqueness of its genesis.&nbsp; Because yartsa gunbu (Ophiocordyceps sinensis, yarsagumba in Nepali) is the sort of lifeform that is so extraordinary that the only place it could exist—outside the pages of a sci-fi novel or some extravagant Studio Ghibli anime—is in nature.&nbsp; Every single one of these tiny marvels is a product of metamorphosis: formed when the larva of a moth is implanted between 3,000 to 5,000m during the rainy season, then attacked by a parasitic fungus that gradually envelops it, to eventually create this sprout of phenomenal medicinal power.&nbsp; And scientists are still only just beginning to understand the yartsa gunbu’s properties. As well as the feted increase in libido it is believed to cause, it is also prized for its anti-inflammatory properties, and is used as a general tonic to improve stamina and reduce fatigue. Yartsa gunbu is just one of the almost infinite varieties of natural life that surround us in a dizzying abundance across the Hindu Kush Himalaya.&nbsp; Because, while many of us are aware of the link between the sweeping expanse of these mountains, and the vast ice mass they contain, and the 10 great Asian rivers that rise here to water our crops, slake our thirsts and power our lives, these great ranges in altitude serve another purpose: their rapid shifts in contours creating world-famous havens for biodiversity, including many species found only here.&nbsp; And while the steep gradients have created many completely unique and wildly distinct lifeforms, in close proximity to each other, the sheer inaccessibility of the region’s terrain has meant that many of these lifeforms have been sheltered from human activities. Until now.&nbsp; This region holds an astonishing four of the world’s 36 global biodiversity hotspots; 12 of the global 200 eco regions, 575 Protected Areas, and 335 important bird and biodiversity areas. These are breathtaking figures – and ones we should be proud of, an abundance we should fight to protect, and be funded to maintain.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240214100252_5ad679a6909aa45951e70af5b9fdd8fd3674e8574a79f1f24f1331686fd1c25f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20240214100252_5ad679a6909aa45951e70af5b9fdd8fd3674e8574a79f1f24f1331686fd1c25f" data-rendition-name="original" width="2490" height="1860" loading="lazy" alt="Biodiversity hotspots"> <figcaption>A map showing the four global biodiversity hotspots of the Hindu Kush Himalaya: Mountains of Central Asia, Himalaya, Indo-Burma and Mountains of South-West China. Map Source: Hi-Wise Report by ICIMOD</figcaption> </figure>  Instead, it’s the opposite that’s happening. With carbon pollution driving temperature rise and black carbon deposits on ice accelerating glacier loss and creating more erratic patterns of rainfall, and land-use change, this vast resource is declining at unprecedented speed.&nbsp; The situation is so bad that ecosystem researchers describe the Hindu Kush Himalaya as a “biosphere on the brink”. Or as the New York Times pithily put it in a headline last year, Animals Are Running Out of Places to Live.&nbsp; The HKH cryosphere is warming two times faster than the global average. Glaciers melted faster in the 2010s than the previous 10 years, and we will reach peak water demand by 2050. This will have enormous impacts on biodiversity and ecosystem services. That is only 26 years away. We are also the most polluted region in the world now. Some of this is because of the industries that were exported from the west to this region, and the lack of access to cleaner technologies. But whatever the causes, whoever is to blame, the fact is that pollution has huge implications for not just human health, but also for biodiversity, crop production, and so on. And already we’ve seen massive biodiversity decline. 70% of original biodiversity has been lost over the last century. And yet, to go back to the improbably arising caterpillar fungus, and other famous products of “nature’s medicine cabinet”, 85% of mountain communities remain dependent on this biodiversity and highland ecosystem services. With grim predictability, yartsa gunbu availability is reported to be declining. And we already have many examples of large-scale ecosystem disruptions across the HKH. Rangeland quality is deteriorating, with a host of problems that accompanies that. We have various invasive and other species moving up.&nbsp; Tigers have been seen at 4000m above sea level – at unprecedented elevations. And we’ve got aggressive upslope movement of certain species at high altitudes, such as rhododendron shrubberies, impacting the growth of high value medicinal products and pastures in these areas.&nbsp; And the flipside is that we have the unintended consequences of conservation successes, with the rebounding of certain species sparking human wildlife conflict. Striking the right balance between human and animal life is extremely challenging, and another area that ICIMOD is working hard to address. But having dedicated the largest part of my entire career to working to advance biodiversity protection and how it is valued in global fora, it pains me deeply that multiple commitments to protect nature that have been made over decades are still not being realised. What is clear too is that this situation is far more acute in the poorer and marginalised regions of the world – such as the Hindu Kush Himalaya. It does not have to be this way, we also have good stories amidst all the news of habitat loss and degradation and species extinctions. 75% of Bhutan is forested, and 40% of Nepal – so two countries in this region are defying wider global trends in terms of deforestation. Pakistan, despite challenges, has committed to plant 10 billion trees.&nbsp; These shoots are coming from unexpected corners too, including, perhaps least likely of all allies, from the finance sector.&nbsp; Just this week, Brazil received $150M in foreign finance for Amazon rainforest protection. We’re starting to see capital markets shift finance flows into what really matters – a regenerative Earth. While there is much to be done – currently, less than one per cent of the <a href="https://forestdeclaration.org/">$460 billion</a> per year needed to halt and reverse forest loss by 2030 has been delivered – there is a growing recognition of the fact that human survival depends on halting and reversing declines in nature.&nbsp; This week, ICIMOD has been honoured to host the third lead authors meeting of the IPBES nexus assessment. As the world’s foremost experts in nature stand in this, one of the most biodiverse places on the planet, the evidence of nature’s value is categorical. Nature must be built into all investment and action. We need to accelerate policy, institutional and market reforms to make this happen – and push for a rapid increase in innovative global finance, especially to high-value and vulnerable regions like the Hindu Kush Himalaya.&nbsp; Global science processes such as IPBES and IPCC must continue to highlight the enormity of the challenge, deliver evidence on viable solutions, and communicate widely and persuasively. ICIMOD is proud to link arms with these key platforms to advance this crucial work, and at this crucial moment for the planet and our collective future. Izabella Koziell is the Deputy Director General at International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development (ICIMOD) in Kathmandu.

Biosphere on the brink

The first-ever Mt Everest sightseeing flight was undertaken in 1933 by a British pilot duo flying from northern Bihar over Nepal in a flimsy Westland Wallace biplane with an open cockpit (below). We have come a long way since then.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023101912104_f31597aad6da4dc9a926e38faf8296a39ff44698fe708ec252c4ff80d648e55a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2023101912104_f31597aad6da4dc9a926e38faf8296a39ff44698fe708ec252c4ff80d648e55a" data-rendition-name="original" width="972" height="669" loading="lazy" alt="Mountain flight 2"> </figure>  The next celebrity was UN Secretary General Dag Hammarskjöld when he visited Nepal in 1961. King Mahendra had just staged his coup and jailed elected Prime Minister B P Koirala, and was cultivating the international community. The king loaned his private DC-3 for the secretary general to get up close and personal with the world’s highest mountain. Hammarskjöld went back to New York and contributed an article for National Geographic (below) in its January 1961 edition with his black and white photographs of the trip, and possibly launched the first promotion of Everest sightseeing flights.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023102205100_ad8eb504b5b6cef65748665d615d738a84901e865274aab0b69be2cca923bc19.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2023102205100_ad8eb504b5b6cef65748665d615d738a84901e865274aab0b69be2cca923bc19" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Mountain flights in Nepal"> </figure>  In 2013, the grandson of Douglas Douglas-Hamilton, the Marquis of Clydesdale, Charles Douglas-Hamilton commemorated the 80th anniversary of the 1933 overflight of Everest by going on a sightseeing flight himself from Kathmandu.&nbsp; Today, there are dozens of hour-long Everest-view flights every morning from Kathmandu that fly at 24,000ft along the central Himalayan mountains, make a U-turn over Lukla and return. Before Covid, there used to be 30 Everest flights a day from Kathmandu airport. Buddha Air has the most flights, and leaves aisle seats empty so all passengers have a window seat. This also makes the flight expensive, but most passengers say it is well worth the experience. It is one of the few flights in the world that takes off and lands from the same airport, and the fare is $220 for overseas passengers and Rs14,000 for Nepalis and Indians. Unlike other flights, where cabin attendants are busy serving food and drinks, on Everest flights they go up and down the aisle pointing out prominent peaks and escorting passengers one by one to the cockpit for better views. That is the other difference: in these flights, passengers are actually allowed into the cockpit. Opinion is divided about which side of the plane offers superior views, but there is a general feeling that the right side is better because the plane is closer to the mountains on the return leg. But this does mean that passengers do not have much of a view during the first half of the flight – unless there are some empty seats on the left side. The other debate is about whether it is better to sit in front or at the back. The turboprop engines of Buddha's ATR-72s are mounted below the plane’s high wings and are relatively small (compared to the Q400, for instance) so it does not obstruct the horizontal view much. Still, a seat at the back of the plane (#13-16) are best because there is nothing to block the view. &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023101912108_8ee24a5f858db84bfb090e6067395c1eda33befd697a1e2c9ad2f9daf224447c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2023101912108_8ee24a5f858db84bfb090e6067395c1eda33befd697a1e2c9ad2f9daf224447c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1559" height="527" loading="lazy" alt="mountain 4"> </figure>  Right after takeoff, the Buddha Air ATR-72-500 makes a wide climbing turn over Kathmandu Valley, and the western Himalaya with Annapurna, Himalchuli, Manaslu heave into view. As the plane sets a northeast heading, out of the left window there is a parade of the central Himalaya peaks: Langtang, Shishapangma, Dorje Lakpa, Phurbi Ghyachu, Gauri Shankar. The plane gains height, and the pastel plateau of Tibet can be seen behind the mountains. The rivers that flow down from there have carved deep gorges through the mighty mountains. At this point, passengers get 2-3 minutes each in the cockpit, and a clear view of Mt Everest, Lhotse and Makalu silhouetted by the rising sun, and only 30km away to the north.&nbsp; Far below, in the shadow of surrounding peaks, one can make out Lukla, Namche Bazar and on the horizon, the imposing massif of Cho Oyu and Nepal’s longest glacier, Ngozumba. As the plane turns back, the aircraft is usually abreast of the summit of Numbur which is the same height as the cruising altitude of the plane.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023101912100_4ddeaffd221fa35f223a7215170b2a2854ba1f1833d27d090cbb92d2e2026b9f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2023101912100_4ddeaffd221fa35f223a7215170b2a2854ba1f1833d27d090cbb92d2e2026b9f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1015" height="763" loading="lazy" alt="Mountain flight 1"> </figure>  On return, the plane starts descending after Gauri Shankar, but the mountains are usually visible right up to the point where the gears come down and the plane prepares to land back in Kathmandu. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Without having to scale the actual peaks, mountain flights are a fantastic way to take in the breathtaking views of the Himalaya, and one of the most popular activities tourists undertake while in Nepal.&nbsp; Most flights in Nepal are actually also mountain flights. A Kathmandu to Tumlingtar or Bhadrapur flight on Buddha Air, for example, offers almost the same views. Similarly, flights to Pokhara, Bhairawa, Nepalganj or Dhangadi have a spectacular panorama of the western Himalaya. &nbsp;&nbsp; Since it began operations 26 years ago this month, Buddha Air has been the domestic airline conducting the most Everest flights. These days, besides its Everest Experience, it also offers the Annapurna Experience and the Kora Experience (see box, below).&nbsp; Passengers also get a ‘Himalayan Peaks’ map to identify the mountains on this once-in-a-lifetime experience. &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023101912108_4a409f74bd235ea371701b857064ee8dfef9d775f013b43171d066744e95be34.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2023101912108_4a409f74bd235ea371701b857064ee8dfef9d775f013b43171d066744e95be34" data-rendition-name="original" width="1402" height="564" loading="lazy" alt="mountain flight 6"> <figcaption>PHOTO: Guðmundur Páll Ólafsson </figcaption> </figure>  The Annapurna Experience&nbsp; Although Mt Everest gets all the attention because it is the highest, the mountains of Central Nepal are equally if not more spectacular, and the sightseeing flights actually fly closer to the massifs of Annapurna, Himalchuli, Manaslu, Machapuchre and Dhaulagiri. This is a 30-minute flight from Kathmandu and lands in Pokhara, and Buddha Air offers charter flights.&nbsp; The Kora Experience (Everest + Annapurna)&nbsp; Buddha Air is now also offering a mountain flight combo that combines the Everest and Annapurna experiences, and the name is derived from the Tibetan word ‘Kora’ which is a pilgrimage circumambulation. The charter flights take off from Kathmandu towards Everest, circle back west to Annapurna overflying the Valley, and land back in Kathmandu in a flight lasting 1.5 hours.&nbsp; <a href="https://www.buddhaair.com/">www.buddhaair.com &nbsp;&nbsp;</a>

Getting up close and personal with the mountains

Architecture can be a powerful agent of change, shaping not just spaces but the way people live, connect, and experience the world.&nbsp; For Nepal, which is <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/natures-fragile-gift-to-nepal">gifted by nature</a> and rich in <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/ambassador-fund-cultural-preservation-nepal,2092">cultural heritage</a>, &nbsp;reviving rural architecture with modern amenities could hold the key to more <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/what-sustainable-tourism-means-in-practice">sustainable tourism </a>that benefits local people more. “<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/bayalpata-hospital-in-nepal-wins-global-design-award">Design and architecture</a> are amazing tools to create a unique experience for visitors,” says Spanish architect Tomeu Esteva of Esteva i Esteva Architecture Studio. “Difficult destinations have beautiful hotels with design and comfort.” Esteva was in Kathmandu with his colleagues at an event organised by the Spanish Honorary Consulate at Dwarika’s Hotel last week to showcase buildings which Nepali architects can adapt with local material and design inputs.&nbsp; Rural architecture holds a unique significance: it is more than a shelter and must reflect <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/inking-an-idenity">local identity, culture</a> and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/saving-humla-from-heritage-loss">heritage</a>. An area’s natural and cultural harmony can be upset by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/protecting-protected-areas-from-infrastructure?fbclid=IwAR1wK0MDFlFST_2EYb3f54LS4-fPt6rYfLG1DJ1JaQsU3w8-ezyXIxGOqzk">poorly planned development</a>, speakers at the event said, but the environment can be improved and revitalised by well-integrated structures.&nbsp; Another Spanish architect, Belen Moneo, has designed hotels at elevations of 3,700m in her home country Spain that supply natural spring water spas. “<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/lost-in-reconstruction">Creativity in construction</a> must be encouraged. Rural architecture always shows possibilities of what we can do better,” Moneo explains, adding that designs must enhance <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/the-healing-power-of-nature">the beauty of nature</a> and give a natural feel at a time when steel, glass and cement dominate <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/rebuilding-kathmandu-after-the-1934-quake">urban design</a>.&nbsp; This is why the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/weaving-nature-into-craft">use of natural products</a> such as bamboo, local timber, straw and rammed earth are in demand from customers who want a fresh eco-friendly look encouraged in construction of rural architectural structures. The demand for boutique hotels has increased world over, with &nbsp;more and more tourists favouring aesthetics, experience and comfort over price. While creativity is an important part of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/architecture-for-mountains">construction and architecture</a>, incentives to build and use <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Building,370">rural construction materials</a> still remain minimal, and Moneo emphasises the significance of design and execution.&nbsp; Esteva helped design the Vana Retreat in Dehradun that kept the natural environment in focus, with the structure giving an elaborate aesthetic experience to visitors. Another example is Hotel Las Mercedes in the Dominican Republic which was designed and constructed by Moneo and the company she co-founded Moneo Brock, respecting and revaluing the traditional architecture of the area. Hotels providing such experience could attract tourists and revenue. The Spanish ambassador to Nepal Juan Antonio March Pujol said, “The role of architecture and architects in developing tourism is crucial, not only in urban areas but rural settings as well.”&nbsp; The concept of rural boutique hotels gained traction in Spain during the 1990s, particularly in regions like Majorca with economic and environmental sustainability as the main focus. In Nepal <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/12-full-opinion/guiding-nepal-s-tourism-industry">the tourism industry</a> directly employs about 1 million people, and makes up about 8% of the country’s GDP. In Nepal, the stone homes of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/reviving-himalayan-vulture-and-culture">Mustang and Manang</a>, bamboo and mud structures of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-tarai-s-shrinking-forests">the Tarai</a>, and the Kathmandu Valley’s terra cotta tile skylines, graceful temples, and tranquil bahal courtyards are all examples of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-traditional-seismic-resistant-designs">Nepal’s traditional architecture</a>.&nbsp; Nepali architect Sarosh Pradhan has been working for the past eight years on the Brakka Village project in Manang Valley north of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/municipalities-want-to-manage-annapurna">the Annapurnas</a>. Other examples of this kind of rural architecture for high-end tourism are the Shinta Mani Hotel in Mustang and Khumbu Lodge below <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/mt-everest-pvt-ltd">Mt Everest</a>. Says Pradhan, “There are places in Nepal that radiate purity and embrace simplicity. Creating projects in such settings require deep reflection and thoughtful planning.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250421030444_a07a23f6b60fa89c0f35b9dc1aaf19937da4881e6bfb2e1858f3c27dff91729f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_19" data-image-id="20250421030444_a07a23f6b60fa89c0f35b9dc1aaf19937da4881e6bfb2e1858f3c27dff91729f" data-rendition-name="original" width="4608" height="2184" loading="lazy" alt="A new architecture for Nepal's tourism"> </figure>  Rural architecture is not easy, and sometimes more expensive. Inflation, energy efficiency, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/those-who-stay">the climate crisis</a>, and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/cost-of-living-in-a-big-city">increased costs of living</a> pose obstacles to sustainable rural architecture. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/forgotten-international-starchitects-in-nepal">Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal</a>, Anne Feenstra and Varun S Bapu Esteva says faith and trust between client and architect is necessary for any project to be successful. He adds that architects must practice being humble, the process of designing always involves learning and not imposing their ideas on clients. Nepal is uniquely positioned for the growth of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/hiking-up-the-benefits-of-tourism">rural tourism</a> because of its stunning countryside as well as its internationally renowned traditions in holistic wellness. Creating infrastructure that is small, thoughtfully planned and that respects both tradition and contemporary hospitality standards is crucial. “Projects in Nepal can be made cost effective by using materials from houses that have been brought down,” says Esteva. “Pilot projects involving <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/local-government-by-the-people-for-the-people-of-the-people">local people </a>and simple designing also helps the process.” <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/vacant-homes-become-homestays-in-nepal">The growth of homestays in Nepal</a> is a step in the right direction, but they are still a bit too rustic for the international traveller who also wants comfort and is willing to pay extra for it. Upgrading the facilities in homestays and ensuring that the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/an-archive-of-nepali-heritage">architectural heritage</a> of the locality is preserved using locally sourced building material could allow owners to charge more. Says Sangita Shrestha of Dwarika’s Hotel, “Our effort is to build upon rural architecture by empowering local communities and using what is available locally. We can fine tune and encourage indigenous design and training.” The vision goes beyond just boosting the economy, it is about building a future where tourism helps villages grow in a healthy and lasting way. Instead of using up resources, it gives back to the land and the people. It supports local communities by<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/staying-in-nepal-to-create-jobs"> creating jobs</a>, improving infrastructure, and protecting natural beauty. When done right, tourism can be a tool for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/progress-and-or-preservation">preserving culture and nature</a>, not harming them. Architects must therefore see their work as more than just designing buildings, they also need to care deeply about people and places, especially in rural areas that can benefit the most.&nbsp; With global interest in sustainable and off-the-beaten-path travel increasing, Nepal stands at the cusp of a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/missing-out-on-nepal-s-tourism-potential">tourism transformation</a> that values community-driven, eco-conscious hospitality. A mix of modern ideas and traditional knowledge could transform rural tourism in Nepal. Says Shrestha, “Young architects should spend time with <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/latest/the-unsung-heroes-of-conservation">local and indigenous communities</a>, listen to their stories, and learn from their <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/life-and-livelihood-in-remote-nepal">ways of living</a>. These communities have deep knowledge about the land, materials, and climate. If this wisdom is used in new designs, it can help create tourism spaces that truly benefit everyone.” &nbsp;

A new architecture for Nepal's tourism

Extract from an addendum to Nepal's Two Wars, Chapter 2 in the updated edition of Essays on Nepal: Past and Present by Sam Cowan, a retired British Army general with a long association with the Gurkhas. The book was first published in 2018, and republished earlier this month by FinePrint exclusively on Amazon. The addendum details a one-to-one conversation the author had in the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=8884">Royal Palace </a>with the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=8371">King Gyanendra</a> in November 2002 just after he had taken his initial steps on the road that ultimately led to <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=14681">the abolition of the monarchy</a> in Nepal in 2008. In the early evening of September 16, 2002, in my role as Colonel Commandant of the Brigade of Gurkhas, I had my second and last official audience with King Gyanendra to give him an update on the Brigade’s activities over the previous 12 months. I had some 6 or 7 such audiences with <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/preserving-king-birendra-s-family-home">King Birendra</a>.&nbsp; These were official affairs with the British ambassador of the day present, along with key <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=12233">palace officials</a> and a representative from Nepal's Foreign Ministry. The two monarchs were very different in character and temperament, but both treated me with the utmost civility and made the audiences as relaxed and easy for me as possible.&nbsp; It is, however, worth recording that when the official business had been covered, King Birendra, with a twinkle in his eye, often ended by asking, “Now General, what’s the gossip in London?” The second audience with <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=8026">King Gyanendra </a>was my last official act in uniform. We came back to Kathmandu in the first week of November (after treks) to stay for a few nights with our Defence Attaché before heading back to the UK. Waiting for me was a message from the Palace saying that King Gyanendra would like to meet me informally: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=6933">no uniform</a> and no ambassador.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250421080420_f9046f9882d4481781d14f2b64f18c7fbbea62562e1d74e3465de6d01fb43750.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20250421080420_f9046f9882d4481781d14f2b64f18c7fbbea62562e1d74e3465de6d01fb43750" data-rendition-name="original" width="1750" height="2406" loading="lazy" alt="Gyanendra crowned page 1"> <figcaption>Nepali Times Special Edition of 6-14 June 2001 with enthronement of Gyanendra. </figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250421080424_21333d6ae21828eb47fe3f849438d215fe2804460d47bb2896ef4aee4e895ad2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250421080424_21333d6ae21828eb47fe3f849438d215fe2804460d47bb2896ef4aee4e895ad2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1857" loading="lazy" alt="Royal massacre"> <figcaption>Nepali Times 22-29 June 2001 covering the royal massacre after which Gyanendra became king. </figcaption> </figure>  Although I had no idea what the purpose of the meeting might be, events in Kathmandu since I last saw the king put me on edge. On October 4, 2002, Gyanendra had dismissed Prime Minister Sher Bahadur Deuba, allegedly for failing to hold <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/what-goes-on-in-nepal-s-elections">elections</a>. He had put in place a new prime minister and a cabinet personally selected by him. When I heard the news on my travels, the people I met were generally supportive of the king’s actions. There was a general view that something had to be done, the country was going nowhere, and the king deserved his chance, not least to solve<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/latest/14-years-after-conflict-no-closure-in-nepal"> the Maoist </a>problem. Back in Kathmandu, views were not so sanguine. The chosen prime minister, Lokendra Bahadur Chand, was a relic from <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/mob-movement-and-mayhem">the Panchayat period</a> whose party had failed to win a single seat in the last elections held in 1999. Some of the chosen cabinet ministers had, to put it mildly, dubious reputations, and others had no record of proven competence in any field. There was a fear that the king’s real motive in dismissing <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/deubas-denouement">Deuba</a> was to start to reverse the democratic gains made since 1990. I informed <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-britain-mark-centenary-of-1923-treaty">the British ambassador</a> about the invitation. He was strongly against accepting it, which was probably the clinching reason for my decision to do the polite thing and accept it. On the evening of November 7, 2002, I presented myself at the royal palace, alone and in civilian attire.&nbsp; As in the past, the Military Secretary, Major General Vivek Shah, met and escorted me into the presence of the monarch. This time, however, he was politely asked to leave the room and shut the door behind him. King Gyanendra greeted me warmly and invited me to sit down.&nbsp; Read also:<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-ghost-of-monarchy-returns-to-haunt-nepal"> The ghost of monarchy returns to haunt Nepal</a>, Shristi Karki  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250421080424_e382af945d0ad2a04ae41fabe5393f793dd10f54cb1220f111c7c9e7423eb558.jpg" data-media-id="editor_15" data-image-id="20250421080424_e382af945d0ad2a04ae41fabe5393f793dd10f54cb1220f111c7c9e7423eb558" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="993" loading="lazy" alt="Gyanendra coup"> <figcaption>Nepali Times 4-10 February 2005 after king Gyanendra's coup imposed media censorship. anendra became king. </figcaption> </figure>  I had wondered, and to be truthful, had worried, not just about the purpose of the meeting, but about how the conversation might start and develop. I reduced my resolve to two points: be polite but speak candidly. The latter resolve was quickly put to the test with the king’s opening words: “Sam, [in previous meetings it had been ‘General’, you walk the highways and byways of this land more than most, tell me what the common man is thinking?” &nbsp;“Your Majesty, I have no idea what they are thinking, but they are waiting.” “Waiting?” “Yes, Your Majesty, they are waiting to see whether what you did some weeks ago in appointing your own prime minister and cabinet ministers is going to make any difference to their lives or whether it is just going to be more Kathmandu hot air.” “Everything is going to be difficult and is going to take time, a lot of time.” “Your Majesty, time is the one thing you don’t have. You must act quickly and decisively to take advantage of the opportunity you have created. Everyone knows that you have appointed these new ministers. Why don’t you get them in here one by one and tell them that they have three months to deliver a programme in their area of responsibility that is going to make a difference to people’s lives? Most will fail to do so. Sack them! It will be a powerful signal of your strong intent to deliver real change.” I can express the opening of our conversation in this way because just about every word is still etched in my mind. The king’s response to my last quoted words was to challenge me to give an example of something that could be delivered quickly. I can give a verbatim record of what I said in response to this unexpected challenge: “Health posts, Your Majesty, there is no shortage of them throughout the country as building them has been one of the sources of local corruption, but very few have any medicine to issue at present or have skilled people to assess and meet medical needs. Your Majesty, children are dying for lack of a few pills. Given the right priority, over a period, say of six months, every health post could be fully stocked with medicine and manned with trained people. This is something I could help to lead for you as I know it would have strong international backing. At last, people would know that you mean business.” As I warmed to the theme, I could see no sign of the king having any enthusiasm for the idea, and I quickly disengaged as it dawned on me, as it had clearly dawned on the king, that the reason for the deficiencies in health posts was to prevent any Maoist combatant from gaining access to any <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/tech-away/nepal-s-health-tech-industry-is-here-to-stay">medical support</a>, and if this meant people suffering, so be it. The subject of the Maoist insurgency inevitably came up, and I took the opportunity to elaborate on what is written in the final four paragraphs of the article above. I advised King Gyanendra that, self-evidently, since there were three parties in the conflict—him, the Maoists, and the political parties—it was imperative that he form an alliance with one of them, preferably the political parties; otherwise, he would find himself isolated, as the other two parties would inevitably, at some stage, form their own alliance. However, it quickly became apparent that the king’s mind was on a totally different track. On the Maoists, he told me that he had channels open to them, but he was scathing about the political party leaders. He made it clear that they would be waiting for a very long time before he gave any power back to them, and that is a polite way of expressing the actual words he used, but “crawling through the door” is a phrase which has stuck in my mind.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250421080424_5403455ff6168f0d202a96cb53edea69136d74d59b989cfcc7cc4a1d57672cb5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_17" data-image-id="20250421080424_5403455ff6168f0d202a96cb53edea69136d74d59b989cfcc7cc4a1d57672cb5" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1317" loading="lazy" alt="fall of monarchy"> <figcaption>Nepali Times 28 April-3 May 2005 with cover image by Ajay Joshi of jubilant protesters after street demonstrations sidelined king Gyanendra, paving the way for a ceasfire and restoration of democracy. </figcaption> </figure>  As the conversation developed, it became ever clearer that King Gyanendra had decided to go in alone, relying on the misleading assurances he was constantly receiving from <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=14954">the army</a>, and no doubt his close advisers, that the Maoists could and would be quickly defeated militarily, and taken out of the equation. This would obviate the need for him to do any deal with the political parties.&nbsp; Thus, the way would be clear for him to establish a version of his father’s Panchayat system, under a constitution that would be granted to the people by him, their sovereign, as his father and brother had done in 1962 and 1990. As in those constitutions, ultimate power would have remained in the sovereign’s hands. This proposed direction of travel was very clear from what the king said to me. In sum, King Gyanendra was motivated by a desire to emulate his immediate predecessors by granting his people a constitution that would restore his father’s Panchayat system in a modern form and give him a central role in decision-making. What was particularly dispiriting was that beyond this single objective he had no plan worthy of the name, nor demonstrably did he have the people with the skills to implement an appropriate plan even if one had existed. Crucially and depressingly, there was little or no indication from the king that he realised that such a course of action could put Nepal’s monarchy into serious jeopardy, as indeed proved to be the case. <h2>King Twice</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250420110436_315d519fe3d68d2406ebe1480fed54720fbf21b8907a4da5cde751fdc623d445.jpg" data-media-id="editor_19" data-image-id="20250420110436_315d519fe3d68d2406ebe1480fed54720fbf21b8907a4da5cde751fdc623d445" data-rendition-name="original" width="1302" height="632" loading="lazy" alt="“Tell me what the common man is thinking!”"> </figure>  <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=8371">Gyanendra Bir Bikram Shah has been king twice</a>. In 1950 he was enthroned briefly as a child king (left, above) by the Rana Prime Minister Mohan Shumsher when his grandfather, King Tribhuvan, fled to exile in India. In 2001 he was crowned king again after the massacre in the royal palace in which his brother King Birendra and nine other members of his family were killed by Crown Prince Dipendra.&nbsp; During his second reign, Gyanendra gradually asserted power by sacking Prime Minister Sher Bahadur Deuba in 2002, and then taking full control after the 1 February 2005 coup. He was sidelined after the ceasefire in April 2006, and became a commoner after the Constituent Assembly finally <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/from-nepali-press/Ftnp-abolishing,624">abolished the monarchy in 2008</a>. In the past year, Gyanendra has tried to exploit public dissatisfaction with the political parties to restore the monarchy.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250421080432_26ef4a4b0e3cee9fdc6794446702efe16550d293904b4f6dd46fe35d4d10c788.jpg" data-media-id="editor_22" data-image-id="20250421080432_26ef4a4b0e3cee9fdc6794446702efe16550d293904b4f6dd46fe35d4d10c788" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Essays on Nepal by Sam Cowen"> </figure>

“Tell me what the common man is thinking!”

“It's Kathmandu.” Just as the family was sitting down for one of its extended lunches, that jubilant cry was from François Driard’s grandfather announcing the next posting for his diplomat parents.&nbsp; Driard (pictured) was 18 in the summer of 1996,<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/suburban-tales/chasing-a-nomad"> a bit of a hippie</a> already, and his life was about to change forever with the magical word “<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/time-capsule-of-kathmandu">Kathmandu</a>”. “I was awed with that information from my grandfather, nothing else mattered … In France <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/tales-of-courage-and-suffering-cx95f89e">in the 1990s</a>, Kathmandu had a mythical aura,” Driard recalls. He came to Kathmandu for Christmas that year to visit his stepfather, the French Ambassador Michel Lummaux. It was to be the first of many visits during school holidays, before he decided to permanently settle down in Nepal. “Kathmandu, and Nepal, were very different then, it was magical, I liked the nature, the people, civilisation, temples, trees,” says Driard, who explored the country sitting on the top of buses. “Visitors talk about the crazy <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/cost-of-living-in-a-big-city">urbanisation</a>, traffic jams today, and all that is true. But Kathmandu has not <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/loss-of-soul-and-soil">lost its soul</a>.” After his stepfather’s tenure in Nepal ended, Driard worked as a business reporter for international publications but decided he did not want to be anyone’s employee anymore. In 2007 he landed in Kathmandu with €20,000 in savings to invest.&nbsp; He knew a few crucial things about himself: he liked food and nature, which is very much tied up with his upbringing--full of lively conversations during lunch and dinner at the family table between <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepals-yak-cheese-is-on-world-map">abundant cheese, wine and cigars</a>. So he decided it would be cheese, and registered Himalayan French Cheese and went to the French Alps for a month to learn how to make Tomme de Savoie. “<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-story-of-langtang-cheese">Cheese making is such an ancient craft </a>and so I thought I won’t need much money or studying which I hated and indeed, if you have a tamako bhado and fire you are set,” explains Driard. But Nepal’s temperature and humidity were not ideal, even at higher altitudes. The first customers for his cheese were the Hyatt Regency and Nina and Hager. But he needed to create a market for cheese in a country which only knew hard churpi in the north and soft paneer in the south. He started selling his cheeses at the Summit Hotel weekend market, expanding to his own 1905 Farmer’s Market which later moved to Le Sherpa in Maharajganj, where it is now, and also a market at Labim Mall in Pulchok. He had cow dairies in Nuwakot and Dhulikhel, and finally a yak cheese unit at 3,379m in Ramechhap. It was the yak blue cheese from here that went on to win a Gold Medal in France, putting Nepal’s French cheese on the world map. “People come and try our cheese at the market, they ask questions. There is a lot of education to be done about cheese,” adds Driard, who also has three cheese shops in the Valley. Driard now makes 25 types of cheese. The products are being noticed and every year he has French students coming to Nepal to learn the art of yak cheese making. “In France, one family or company makes one kind of cheese for generations. In that I’m very unique as a cheese artisan,” he says. “The students come in to learn but I tell them to also teach us something too, add another cheese to my collection.” Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/langtang-after-10-years">Langtang after 10 years</a>, Sonia Awale Being a foodie, Driard is now also dabbling in meat with his own charcuterie at Meatini with bacon, ham, sausage and pâtés. All of this is now served at his Emilio’s Pizza, a leafy hideaway in Lazimpat. His South Side in Moksh is probably the smallest wine bar in the world. “I call the process sublime,” says Driard of his ventures, which have grown organically. “You need the same temperature and humidity of 12°C and 80% for cheese, meat and wine.” Emilio’s speciality is the eight-cheese pizza (which has eight types of cheeses), and a pizza with bhutan topping (not the country but fried intestines and organs Nepali-style). He has opened a small branch at Courtyard in Pokhara.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250426070456_bacae302c040dc18eeecdeafda72ddf06a6d2cec138ea9be7e45fe94cdf8b5b3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250426070456_bacae302c040dc18eeecdeafda72ddf06a6d2cec138ea9be7e45fe94cdf8b5b3" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="8 cheese pizza"> <figcaption>Eight-cheese pizza</figcaption> </figure>  With two artisanal cheese units, two farmers’ markets, a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-meat-of-the-story">meat processing unit</a>, a bakery, and wine bar he now envisions a vineyard so he can add Nepali wine to his repertoire. Another future plan is to start up an agri-tourism business where customers can drink, eat and work in peace. In the past 20 years in Nepal, Driard has not always succeeded in his ventures but this hasn’t curbed his enthusiasm. He is learning as he goes, and like an old wine, Nepal is growing on him. Its slowness suits his French art de vivre with eating slowly outdoors, having conversation, importing less.&nbsp; “I have proven that with even a little money you can do a lot of things in Nepal,” adds Driard. “In the West, they easily invest half a million euros on a cheese factory, I invested 10 times less.”&nbsp;

Fromage, vin et charcuterie Népalais

He had just sat down for lunch after tending the garden at his house in Lagan Tole on 25 April 2015 when the ground began to shake violently. &nbsp; Gautam Nepal, 56 at the time, realised it was an earthquake. He panicked at the thought of his neighbours' multi-storied buildings toppling on top of his modest one-storey house. He rushed out as the high-rises swayed and groaned. “We were used to earthquakes, moderate ones are a regular occurrence in Kathmandu, but I had never felt fear like I felt on that day,” recalls Gautam. “My house proved strong, it did not collapse.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250419040440_82a74881218223df70e30eb1759cd3a7c9edbb7728acef83c3f8b397d6e6dfe9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250419040440_82a74881218223df70e30eb1759cd3a7c9edbb7728acef83c3f8b397d6e6dfe9" data-rendition-name="original" width="1737" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Loss of soul and soil NT"> <figcaption>LAGAN TOLE'S TOLL: Lagan Tole photographed by tour guide Neil S Rawlins during his travel to Kathmandu in February 1970.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250419040448_90914720a75b7d31a12bc27f0c0af9484a5e5efc7dd797dc6bcd190fc28ecdcb.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250419040448_90914720a75b7d31a12bc27f0c0af9484a5e5efc7dd797dc6bcd190fc28ecdcb" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1004" loading="lazy" alt="Loss of soul and soil NT"> <figcaption>Lagan Tole photographed by Neils Gutschow in 1992.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250419040440_9a4dd35b070949949bfe275eff8216dd29f88f74a30b063dc614845226f68f03.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250419040440_9a4dd35b070949949bfe275eff8216dd29f88f74a30b063dc614845226f68f03" data-rendition-name="original" width="1501" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Loss of soul and soil NT"> <figcaption>Lagan Tole in 2025.</figcaption> </figure>  Other residents of Lagan who also live in traditional low rise houses had the same fear. Tara Nepali, then 48, was doing the washing that Saturday.&nbsp; She recalls, “When my house began to shake, I could only think about the bigger buildings falling on top of me. I was sure my house would collapse, but to my surprise, it survived, and so did we.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250419040440_2b4b1ec427d9aec5980021b97b25ca3164d5f79337f113ba02b1d802f71b7cad.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250419040440_2b4b1ec427d9aec5980021b97b25ca3164d5f79337f113ba02b1d802f71b7cad" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Loss of soul and soil NT"> <figcaption>Gautam Nepali in front of his one-storey Lagan home, where he had been having lunch just before the earthquake struck 10 years ago.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250419040436_6f8a7057bbd269214712076e13117b665165e03a0351db0e3666aee05e91f63c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250419040436_6f8a7057bbd269214712076e13117b665165e03a0351db0e3666aee05e91f63c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Loss of soul and soil NT"> <figcaption>Tara Nepali in front of her house in Lagan. She was doing the washing during the earthquake in 2015.</figcaption> </figure>  But Buddha Khadgi, 68, was not so lucky. His was one of the few houses in the neighbourhood to be reduced to rubble. His lifelong collection of photographic prints were buried, and so were the traditional Newari musical instruments passed down through generations of his family that he used to give music lessons.&nbsp; “I lost the things that connected me to my roots and my heritage. That was infinitely more heartbreaking than the fact that my house was gone,” says Khadgi, now living in a new cement structure.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250419040436_58f4a8ee4eb740536c69096a4d8c0cd2007fdbcc4ef56551ff460d2ef0ef6f2b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250419040436_58f4a8ee4eb740536c69096a4d8c0cd2007fdbcc4ef56551ff460d2ef0ef6f2b" data-rendition-name="original" width="2496" height="1671" loading="lazy" alt="Loss of soul and soil NT"> <figcaption>Lagan's Maka Galli some decades ago. Photo: SHREE RAM NEPALI</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250419040440_6b2bacaf0a1e93b441aff8093b343836d6de0b44d7b29f9b758209845f675bff.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250419040440_6b2bacaf0a1e93b441aff8093b343836d6de0b44d7b29f9b758209845f675bff" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Loss of soul and soil NT"> <figcaption>Lagan's Maka Galli in 2025. The neighbourhood's old Newari houses have been replaced by concrete structures, although the falcha has been rebuilt in traditional style.</figcaption> </figure>  Lagan Tole in Kathmandu's historic heart emerged relatively unscathed from the earthquake in large part because, like in nearby Asan, the buildings are densely packed and lean on each other. But in the years after the earthquake, urban pressure and fear of future quakes have made families tear down their traditional houses with sloping tile roofs and replace them with concrete structures.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250419040440_25983e79dc88388cb370b16f7f631e4c276cfc997ffa1f9ce3701e40c876b355.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20250419040440_25983e79dc88388cb370b16f7f631e4c276cfc997ffa1f9ce3701e40c876b355" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Loss of soul and soil NT"> <figcaption>Glimpses of present-day Lagan.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250419040440_9a6a88df8815352a452895c43840a898d4b6c080b79562383306c0cfe8bcd952.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250419040440_9a6a88df8815352a452895c43840a898d4b6c080b79562383306c0cfe8bcd952" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Loss of soul and soil NT"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250419040440_a348b974bd3a5e76d0bf9b309f98813556d43dd6c361856c67e79c03d4283e69.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20250419040440_a348b974bd3a5e76d0bf9b309f98813556d43dd6c361856c67e79c03d4283e69" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Loss of soul and soil NT"> </figure>  Lagan’s longtime residents, especially the elderly whose families have lived here for generations, say that the neighbourhood with its characterless new tall cement boxes is no longer familiar to them. “We used to say that our houses are not supposed to be taller than temples, the houses of our gods,” says Gautam. “Now, the houses here dwarf the temples and even the chariot of Seto Machindranath.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250419040440_88d18ce580abaf9e62fd807403f2e3c9a5bd8972d3b32bdacb97d8991c7fec35.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20250419040440_88d18ce580abaf9e62fd807403f2e3c9a5bd8972d3b32bdacb97d8991c7fec35" data-rendition-name="original" width="1041" height="1441" loading="lazy" alt="Loss of soul and soil NT"> <figcaption>The Seto Machindranath procession at Lagan on 10 April 1998, during which the chariot caught fire. Photo: SOCIAL MEDIA</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250419040440_c403f91f9a48c14eaaeed2d38a2cb97714416765730b6d12f29487f9b0f47e83.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20250419040440_c403f91f9a48c14eaaeed2d38a2cb97714416765730b6d12f29487f9b0f47e83" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Loss of soul and soil NT"> <figcaption>The Seto Machindranath procession at Lagan earlier this month.</figcaption> </figure>  &nbsp;The old baha courtyards, falcha resting places, and open spaces where Lagan’s residents used to grow vegetables and gather as a community are nearly all gone. And the taller the houses get, residents say they feel less anchored to the soil. Lagan has also lost its soul -- the community spirit is eroding as elderly neighbours rarely venture down to meet each other in the evenings. &nbsp; “This no longer feels like the tole I grew up in,” says a resident. “We are beginning to lose the relationships we had with each other as a community, and with it, the spirit of Lagan.”&nbsp;