· &nbsp;At least 400 people are dead or missing after heavy rainfall lashed arid regions of northwestern Pakistan. Walls of mud and boulders engulfed entire villages in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa Province. More than 700 people have been killed in floods in Pakistan since June.&nbsp; · &nbsp;Over in India’s Jammu and Kashmir at the same time, multiple slurry floods on 17-18 August killed more than 80 people · A mudslide possibly caused by a glacial collapse upstream in Uttarakhand on 5 August nearly wiped the village of Dharali off the map. At least 70 people, 23 of them Nepalis are dead or missing. · On the night of 8 July, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/rasuwa-flood-likely-a-glof">glacial lakes in Tibet overflowed</a>. By dawn the mudflow had demolished the Nepal-China border bridge killing at least 11 people, destroyed hydropower plants, swept away bridges, roads, over 100 cargo trucks and newly imported electric vehicles. All these disasters have a common thread: a cascade of hazards caused by record-breaking rainfall on fragile Himalayan slopes destabilised by melting glaciers and permafrost, seismicity and poorly engineered infrastructure. They are called ‘rain bombs’ — a heavy localised downpour measuring more than 100mm/h on a steep mountainside. As global warming heats the atmosphere, warmer air can hold more water vapour. The heavy rain then falls where there should be snowfall: on moraines and slopes that have lost the permafrost adhesive that held the debris together. “Increasingly, there is now more rainfall at higher altitudes where there used to be snowfall previously, and this directly impacts loose material in that fragile landscape which moves down,” explains Mohan B Chand, a Himalayan Glaciologist at Kathmandu University. “Moreover, the rains these days are heavy and fall within a few hours. So even a small burst has bigger impact.” The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/drones-to-the-rescue-in-melamchi">2021 Melamchi flood</a> and the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/sikkim-flood-is-warning-to-nepal">Sikkim disaster in 2023</a> have been attributed to record-breaking torrential rain on a glacial moraine that collapsed, unleashing a catastrophic debris flow.&nbsp; The Bhote Kosi flood this year happened even without torrential rain, and originated at rapidly expanding supraglacial lakes that overflowed, similar to what happened on the Mendenhall Galcier in Alaska last week. In Uttarakhand, the trigger could be in the upper catchment cryosphere, or a landslide dammed lake. Basanta Raj Adhikari of the Centre for Disaster Studies at the Institute of Engineering also calls them ‘sediment bombs’. He clarifies: “There is lots of sediment up there from landslides or glacial activity, and when there is heavy rainfall and hotter temperature, they are unleashed downstream. One thing is for sure, these extreme events are getting more frequent and more destructive.” Researcher Alton C Byers who has studied melting glaciers in the Himalaya and Andes names the eight most potentially dangerous glacial lakes in Nepal: Lower Barun, Chamlang North Tso, Chamlang South Tso, Dig Tso which burst in 1984, Lumding Tso, Thulagi, Tso Rolpa and Imja Tso (see map).  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250822030844_70b3bf6a1ad9b9f9481c9af860629b2a05ac1338a3b89a831506f1c6bdddf5ec.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250822030844_70b3bf6a1ad9b9f9481c9af860629b2a05ac1338a3b89a831506f1c6bdddf5ec" data-rendition-name="original" width="522" height="557" loading="lazy" alt="high risk glacial lakes in Nepal"> </figure>  Of these, Tso Rolpa and Imja have been lowered by 3m each, while Thulagi, Lower Barun, Lumding Tsho, and Hongu 2 glacial lakes have been targeted for lowering by the Department of Hydrology and Meteorology as part of the recent Green Climate Fund grant of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/meltpools-in-the-himalaya" target="_blank">$36.1 million awarded to Nepal</a>. “These lakes have changed over the years as their debris-covered glaciers continue to recede,” Byers told Nepali Times. “When water volume in the lake basin increases, they become more vulnerable to flood triggers such as overhanging ice as glaciers recede further to their headwalls, and permafrost on their moraines continues to melt.” <h2>These are not ‘natural disasters’</h2> Scientists have given the current planetary epoch a name: the Anthropocene. And anthropogenic causes in this era heighten the risk of disasters. Indeed, an analysis of recent Himalayan calamities (page 1) shows that there is much more at play here than climate breakdown. Haphazard encroachment of floodplains, quarrying and crusher activity exacerbated the effect of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/when-it-rains-it-pours-ksqprbu3">extreme rainfall on 28 September around Kathmandu Valley</a> that killed 200 people. The human cost of the 5 August catastrophe in Uttarakhand would have been high in any case, but the fact that the tiny village had expanded across a vulnerable alluvial fan to cater to a tourism boom meant more death and destruction. There are similar alluvial fans across Nepal, where small towns have expanded because new highways follow rivers, like Beni located at the confluence of the Myagdi Khola and Kali Gandaki. Other towns like Kagbeni or Damauli are located on the banks of rivers and tributaries that are directly downstream from rapidly expanding glacial lakes or unstable mountains. “In Butwal, people are building houses on the floodplain of the Tinau River, and yet people blame climate change or rainfall when there is a disaster,” says Basanta Raj Adhikari at the Institute of Engineering. “This is happening all over the country. Imagine the kind of devastation Beni would suffer if there was a big flood.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250822030848_ed411f8618c7a411ed4c165e91f3b880abb085a8a511405710dd8220f657da84.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250822030848_ed411f8618c7a411ed4c165e91f3b880abb085a8a511405710dd8220f657da84" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="Beni Bazar"> <figcaption>RISKY CONFLUENCE: Beni has expanded rapidly after the highway to Mustang was built. But the town is situated on the alluvial fan of past flash floods on both the Kali Gandaki and Myagdi Khola which have dangerous glacial lakes in their upper catchment. Photo: BENI TOURISM</figcaption> </figure>  Traditionally, Nepal’s villages and settlements were located high above rivers because our forebears learnt lessons from recurring flash floods. Now, the road network follows rivers, and towns have sprung up along these highways. Even when roads are not on river banks, many gouge out slopes above, unleashing massive landslides that block rivers. Experts say Nepal’s hazard map should now be updated for glacial outbursts so municipalities can plan risk-sensitive land use zoning. This &nbsp;must go hand-in-hand with measures to reduce the risk by structural mitigation, such as engineering and construction, and then with risk awareness and early-warning systems. Says Himalayan researcher Alton C Byers: “Sooner or later, communities will realise that certain sites are simply no longer safe for a village or city, especially because of climate change in the mountains. The Himalaya has always been high-risk with its steep slopes, thin soil, monsoon rainfall regime, and frequent seismic activity. So, some places are no longer safe to live in.” Mohan B Chand of Kathmandu University adds that <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/climate-smarter-himalayan-infrastructure">hazard mapping is especially crucial for expensive hydropower plants</a>: “Most of these are on snow-fed rivers, but environmental risk assessment is not taken seriously.” He says that because Nepal is set to generate 28,500MW by 2035 to meet its carbon neutral target, the government must work to minimise upstream risk by integrating disaster mitigation components in new energy investments. Few know that Nepal’s first hazard mapping was done 40 years ago in the Khumbu with a United Nations University study titled ‘Highland Lowland Interactive Systems’. It is hard to find that document anywhere. Today, hazard mapping technologies, satellite remote sensing, drones, synthetic aperture radar (SAR) and modelling with AI have made it much easier to integrate multi-hazard risk assessment. That data needs to be made available to local governments so they can plan. Cell phones and new apps that monitor real-time glacial lake levels, live precipitation and hydrological data, and local weather forecasts can make early warning systems more effective. Recent disasters have shown that even the smallest of glacial lakes that are rarely considered in risk assessments can cause much damage. Langmale Lake in the Barun Valley was less than 0.1 km2 in size, but <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-mountains-are-melting" target="_blank">the flood in 2017</a> caused extensive downstream damage. The 2012 Seti flood in Pokhara, the Chamoli disaster in Uttarakhand in 2021, the South Lhonak proglacial lake burst in Sikkim in 2023 that washed away the $1.7 billion Chungthang Teesta III Project, and the August 2024 floods above Thame in Khumbu are other recent examples.&nbsp; Byers thinks some of these floods may have been initially triggered by massive rockfall or moraine collapse related to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/the-not-so-permanent-frost" target="_blank">melting permafrost</a>. The size of a glacial lake alone does not determine the severity of destruction. What makes all the difference is downstream development, and if there pre-warning. Dig Tso in Khumbu which burst in 1984, was much larger than the lake that caused the Bhote Kosi flood in July, but the economic cost to the country of the trans-boundary disaster this year was much higher. Says glaciologist Chand: “We have to monitor the lakes, not just via remote sensing but with field visits. These may be costly, but mitigating the risk is less expensive than the disasters themselves.” Nepal has the technology and trained personnel to do hazard mapping, monitoring, and to design early warning apps. That data and information now needs to be available to all three levels of government to improve preparedness and risk reduction. “The cascading and compounding hazards are increasing in the Himalaya, this must be the subject of our research now,” says Adhikari at the Centre for Disaster Studies. “Recent events are a wake-up call, if we do not take this seriously things may be more dangerous in future.”

Sonia Awale

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Rain bombs

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

It was 30 years ago this month that investment into ‘Baby Arun’, the 201MW first phase of the run-of-river Arun III project, was brought to a screeching halt when the World Bank officially withdrew its support. This brought about profound and fundamental changes in the way Nepal’s power sector subsequently developed. Nepalis suffered debilitating power outages between 2008-2016 due to shortages attributable to the cancellation. At the same time, the gap left by Baby Arun was filled by private sector investment in ways that were not obvious in 1995. It took 30 years, but in many ways Nepal’s power sector is more healthy today than it has ever been, and likely better than if the project was built as planned. At a projected budget of $1.08 billion, Baby Arun would have cost the equivalent of Nepal’s entire annual government expenditure in 1995. It was to be funded by concessional grants and loans from multilateral and bilateral funders, including the World Bank, Asian Development Bank (ADB), KfW, and investment by the government itself. At the time, Nepal’s total electricity generation capacity was only 230MW, and the trajectory of the power sector changed dramatically following the cancellation. In the past 30 years, $5.4 billion has been invested in the power sector led by private investors, and much of it from domestic banks and pension funds (table, right).  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250829150840_c13d6f9f34d7163832b3089eabdad6f20d2d5cef3a53039e0432add2be6c32f0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250829150840_c13d6f9f34d7163832b3089eabdad6f20d2d5cef3a53039e0432add2be6c32f0" data-rendition-name="original" width="984" height="521" loading="lazy" alt="30 years after Baby Arun"> </figure>  Nearly 70% of the new megawatts generated were by private independent power producers (IPP) in the past 30 years, while the Nepal Electricity Authority (NEA) and its subsidiary companies added 30% of new capacity. Almost 80% of total debt financing came from domestic banks and employee retirement funds. International assistance for power generation dropped dramatically over this time, accounting for only about 15% of investment. Before 1995 new power projects used to be entirely dependent on foreign aid. Since 1995, 63% of new generation came from 171 small hydropower projects with an average capacity of 12MW, while 4% was from 21 solar photovoltaic and biomass projects developed by local IPPs.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250829150844_5bc299fc78be90b95ce4727b0b3bdaa4542e17e126718cc8725d136630ffc097.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250829150844_5bc299fc78be90b95ce4727b0b3bdaa4542e17e126718cc8725d136630ffc097" data-rendition-name="original" width="988" height="503" loading="lazy" alt="30 years after Baby Arun"> </figure>  Over three decades, investment in Nepal’s power supply came primarily from new actors that had never before been involved in this sector. The rate of electrification rose from 10% to close to 100% -- sufficient to meet domestic needs during most of the year, and in 2024 made Nepal a net exporter of power to India for the first time in its history. As practically all the new investment in this period went into run-of-river hydro and solar projects, rather than into hydropower reservoirs with seasonal storage, Nepal continues to rely on imports from India during the dry winter months. Surplus electricity generation for export during the monsoon is slated to grow rapidly as another 200 solar and hydro projects are nearing completion of construction, with over 5,000MW of power capacity. Private Power The cancellation of Baby Arun inadvertently accelerated the entry of the private sector into Nepal’s power generation. The government enacted the Electricity Act in 1992 to attract private IPPs and diversify away from total dependence from international aid, but had been struggling for several years to conclude the first agreement with the 60MW Khimti Project. There remained a large gap between the tariff that the government thought was reasonable versus what was demanded by the Norwegian investor Statkraft, and the private sector arms of the World Bank and ADB that were financing the project. The shock of World Bank withdrawal from Baby Arun put tremendous pressure on the government, then led by the UML as it is now. The Bank’s decision to terminate its involvement was ostensibly, at least partially, taken in response to a letter critiquing the project sent by the UML while it was in the opposition.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250829150848_7fb3641d776fe86a09ad60a758f7e16660a409fdb15e541644f13646b0894347.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250829150848_7fb3641d776fe86a09ad60a758f7e16660a409fdb15e541644f13646b0894347" data-rendition-name="original" width="949" height="446" loading="lazy" alt="30 years after Baby Arun"> <figcaption>BAD NEWS: Newspaper clippings from the early 90s on tender announcement ahead of loan approval (left) and secrecy surrounding environmental assessment (centre) of Arun III before its eventual cancellation in August 1995.</figcaption> </figure>  The government was forced to soften its position and agree to the investors’ terms following the cancellation of Baby Arun. It directed NEA to sign a power purchase agreement (PPA) with Khimti. It was concluded in January 1996, and this was followed by a second PPA in July 1996 with Panda Energy, the American developer of the 45MW Upper Bhotekosi project. The expensive USD-denominated agreements to buy power from two international private producers, with price escalation clauses tied to the New York Consumer Price Index, sent alarm bells ringing. There was worry that the country was heading towards unaffordable tariff rates for the consumer and potential bankruptcy for NEA as a result of inevitable future weakening of the Nepali Rupee. The government had strong-armed NEA into signing these agreements, and realised that concessionary financing terms that Nepal was used to receiving for public sector projects such as Baby Arun and Kali Gandaki A, that included below-market interest rates and 40 years repayment period with a 10 year grace period before starting repayment, were not the norm for private sector investors. Nepal’s status as a less than attractive destination for foreign investment meant that the country had few options but to accept expensive dollar PPAs from international developers with the high commercial interest rates and short repayment periods imposed by their banks because of high investment risks. In the end, the government ended up having to additionally provide a sovereign guarantee in order to close the deal at the insistence of the lenders – committing it to repayment in case NEA defaulted on paying the IPPs. It is reasonable to assume that the extraordinarily high political cost of agreeing to the PPA terms would have meant that no government would have willingly agreed to them in 1995 had it not suffered the trauma of the loss of concessionary-financed public sector projects as large as the Baby Arun. It has taken NEA 25 years to consider offering dollar-denominated PPAs again: to cover the foreign exchange portion of the investment in the 216MW Upper Trisuli-1 and 120MW Rasuwa-Bhotekosi Hydropower projects. It seemed unlikely at the time, but it turned out that the dire situation Nepal found itself in 1995 planted the seed to mobilise investment for affordable power from within the country. Double Whammy After the dual shock of first losing investment in Baby Arun and having to sign expensive power purchase agreements with international IPPs, the first proposal for an alternative strategy to mitigate the risk of foreign currency investment into hydropower projects came from a group of engineers within the Arun III team at NEA. Led by <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=4900">Deputy Director Damber Bahadur Nepali,</a> engineers convinced the leadership that NEA needed to invest in a subsidiary company to build a series of locally-designed and domestically-financed projects that would have lower cost with rupee-denominated PPAs. They registered the Chilime Hydropower Company Limited (CHCL) in October 1995 with 51% shares from NEA, 25% from its employees, and 24% available for the general public, 10% of which was prioritised for local residents at the project site. The 22.1MW project is in Rasuwa on a tributary of the Trisuli, and mobilised debt financing from the Employee Provident Fund, which manages retirement savings for employees of the government, public enterprises, and private sector institutions. CHCL’s experience showed that NEA employees themselves believed that individual hydropower projects with operational independence from NEA could be developed profitably in Nepal by its own engineers -- and they were willing to put their own money on the line. Chilime also demonstrated that there was money in the country, particularly with retirement funds, looking for opportunities for long-term investments. Following completion of Chilime in 2003, CHCL led the formation of three other NEA subsidiary companies that completed construction in 2023 and 2024, producing 168.3MW using fully rupee-tied investment. NEA’s largest subsidiary, the Upper Tamakosi Hydropower Limited, completed construction of its 456MW plant in 2021.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250829160812_ce9ab8b49c598970db3f5bf0a079061ef52f153b28d9f4ead2bb1b26bfd7c2f3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250829160812_ce9ab8b49c598970db3f5bf0a079061ef52f153b28d9f4ead2bb1b26bfd7c2f3" data-rendition-name="original" width="3000" height="1571" loading="lazy" alt="30 Years after Baby Arun"> <figcaption>DAMNED: The $700 million 456MW Upper Tamakosi built entirely with domestic funds before it was destroyed by the September floods last year. </figcaption> </figure>  There were some delays and cost overruns on this run-of-river project, the largest in the country with a final cost of over $700 million -- all of it sourced domestically. The five subsidiary companies launched by NEA have produced almost two times as much new power as NEA has over the past 30 years. Seven other NEA subsidiaries are currently constructing projects to add another 474MW to the national grid. But even more important than NEA subsidiaries have been local IPPs: Nepali companies which have over the past three decades enthusiastically entered the hydropower sector. From a regulatory perspective, the credit for mobilising domestic private investment to engage in power generation goes to Minister of Water Resources Shailaja Acharya, who in 1998 offered a flat feed-in-tariff of Rs4/kWh for hydropower projects under 10MW. This upfront offer removed a major barrier that early developers had faced of having to spend money to carry out a detailed feasibility study before they could even start tariff negotiations with NEA. She had laid the foundation stone of the Chilime project, and proved to be the champion of opening up the sector for domestic IPPs. The guarantee of a PPA with a fixed tariff, irrespective of project specifications, gave small power developers the confidence to apply for survey licenses and invest in feasibility studies so they could directly approach commercial banks and make a case for their project producing required revenue to repay loans. Domestic IPPs started adding power to the national grid in 2002. Their contribution was initially modest, and first projects were small and commercial lenders who took time to be confident about providing debt financing to a sector which had previously not been considered suitable for private sector investment. While the first 10 years were slow, with less than 10MW being added to the grid each year, this increased twenty fold over the following ten years, resulting in the equivalent of a Baby Arun being added by Nepali IPPs to the grid each year. A total of 84 IPPs added 232MW, 328 MW, 454MW, and 400MW of new generation to the grid in 2021-2024 (graph). There was explosive, exponential growth as domestic developers have surged ahead to account for 76% of the new megawatts added to the grid since 2020, compared to 24% by NEA and its subsidiary companies. The megawatts that IPPs are adding have followed the classic ‘hockey stick curve’ with the ‘breakout point’, signaling the rapid growth phase in 2020. Private producers are expected to accelerate new generation in the coming years with 300 solar and hydropower projects adding 11,000MW. Another 166 hydropower and 96 solar projects are currently in the survey stage, and are in line to add another 11,000MW to the construction pipeline. One major challenge is finding financing required for the projects. Domestic investment will no longer be sufficient to finance this ambitious pipeline of renewable energy projects. Project developers as well as NEA and the Electricity Regulatory Commission will have to leverage their substantial experience accumulated through the construction of over 200 projects to attract regional and international investment and hedge the risks of dollar-denominated PPAs. Following the cancellation of Baby Arun, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/people-power/decentralising-power-in-nepal">Nepal developed a highly distributed power sector</a>. The national electricity grid is currently supplied with power from a remarkably decentralised array of hundreds of hydropower and solar photovoltaic projects spread across 43 districts and all seven provinces.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250829150848_0c3aa66b34bfb08380a624f397bf3ebb4126f4d6b41a26115848b496876f501b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250829150848_0c3aa66b34bfb08380a624f397bf3ebb4126f4d6b41a26115848b496876f501b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1228" height="867" loading="lazy" alt="30 years after Baby Arun"> </figure>  This presents a sharp contrast to the pathway of a few large public sector hydropower projects with a sprinkling of private sector projects that was envisioned as part of NEA’s investment planning when Baby Arun was being considered the front runner for investment. The strategy then was to allow public sector investment in a few large hydropower projects with thermal plants to fill the gap. Knowing what we know now about acceleration of climate change impacts and increased extreme weather events, following this path would have made Nepal’s power sector highly vulnerable. Decentralised generation greatly improves the resilience of Nepal’s power supply as damage to power plants in one part of the country need not affect other areas that have their own generation. Following the investment plan where over two thirds of the country’s power supply would have come from power plants on the Arun River, would have greatly imperiled Nepal’s energy security. All rivers in Nepal are susceptible to flooding from cloudbursts made more frequent by climate change. The Arun River which is fed by glaciers in Tibet is also at risk to glacial lake outburst floods. Bikash Pandey is Director of Clean Energy and Circular Economy at Winrock International. People Power is his regular column in Nepali Times on global energy issues relevant to Nepal. <h2>Decentralised and Diversified</h2> In the 30 years since the cancellation of ‘Baby Arun’: Hydropower projects constructed cover capacities ranging from less than 1MW to 456MW and developed by IPPs from across the country with strong local involvement in purchasing equity shares. Renewable energy sources contributed to the generation mix through solar IPPs that further contribute to climate resilience, and cover shortfalls during low rainfall. The government is committed to solar contributing 10% of the power on the grid. Increasing solar beyond this target and providing incentives to project developers to invest in utility-scale battery storage would further improve resilience. BIG ARUN: The 900MW Arun III project under construction since 2018 at Num in Sankhuwasabha (pictured, below) is a separate initiative by a different project developer using a different financing modality. The ‘Baby Arun’ version of Arun III was cancelled in 1995.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250829150852_df534df5166eb5a9bb4cbe101627bdec7ac1df2a405a9d3988d1c86fcc8ecdeb.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20250829150852_df534df5166eb5a9bb4cbe101627bdec7ac1df2a405a9d3988d1c86fcc8ecdeb" data-rendition-name="original" width="1750" height="1312" loading="lazy" alt="30 Years after Baby Arun"> </figure>

30 years after Baby Arun

India and China have a long-standing border dispute along their Himalayan border which has erupted in violent skirmishes. But Indian and Chinese officials last week agreed to ignore Nepal’s own border dispute with India to facilitate trade. The Indian Ministry of External Affairs this week flatly rubbished <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/territorialism">Nepal’s territorial claims</a> to the Lipulek Pass and the Kalapani Region, including Limpiyadhura, which Nepal considers as the source of the Mahakali River that forms Nepal’s western border with India. The latest episode in this dispute has come as Sino-Indian relations have thawed after US President Donald Trump slapped <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-and-the-us-india-tariff-tiff">sanctions on Indian exports</a>. The joint communiqué in Beijing said India and China had agreed to resume their border trade through the Nathu La, Sipki La and Lipulek during Chinese foreign minister Wang Yi’s visit to New Delhi. Lipulek is a pass 10 km north-east of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/there-is-precedent-to-settling-kalapani">Kalapani</a> which has been disputed ever since the Survey of India published its 1879 map, where the source of the Mahakali was suddenly shifted from Limpiyadhura to Lipulek.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250826060824_4e68dd5964e0995b91148de9978a1de52b19691e1b01f52a405924fd130c22bd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250826060824_4e68dd5964e0995b91148de9978a1de52b19691e1b01f52a405924fd130c22bd" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="2083" loading="lazy" alt="Lipulek dispute explainer"> </figure>  This tributary of the Mahakali was called the Kali on this map, and is a fordable tributary and not the main channel of the border river. The main Kali River was renamed Kuti Yangdi, and this happened while the British were still in India presumably to gain access to the Lipulek in contravention of the 1816 <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/borderline-disorder">Sugauli Treaty</a>.&nbsp; This subterfuge continued even after India gained independence in 1947. Nepal has maintained that the main channel of the Kali is the border as per the 1816 treaty, when Nepal lost a third of its territory to British India. It is all well and good that India and China are now friendly enough to <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19447">open border trade</a> routes, but it should not be in violation of Nepal’s territorial integrity. Nepal should be called for diplomatic and political negotiations regarding the Lipulek pass and the Kalapani region comprising Limpiyadhura.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/when-xi-meets-modi-and-oli">When Xi meets Modi and Oli</a>, Kanak Mani Dixit China and India, but especially the latter, should invite Nepal to discuss these issues and iron out the disputes based on facts and evidence and maps. Nepal had sent seven diplomatic notes to India and three to China so far regarding the Lipulek and Kalapani. India has not responded to any of them. China replied once saying that Nepal and India should sort out their border disputes first before voicing their opinions. Nepal welcomes the recent talks between India and China that it hopes will positively impact on settling border disputes that are mostly stalled since the 1962 Sino-Indian war, the 73-day military standoff over the disputed Doklam region between China and Bhutan, and the 2020 Galwan clash in Ladakh. Nepal’s two large neighbours seem to have come to their senses and realised that it is in their interest to collaborate rather than confront each other when President <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/trump-s-first-month">Trump is acting erratically</a> with threats of sanctions and tariffs.&nbsp; Prime Minister K P Oli should bring up Nepal’s grave concerns about the Lipulek during his state visit to India next month when he will meet Prime Minister Narendra Modi in Bodh Gaya. The two are also expected to meet next week at the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation summit in Tianjin when Chinese President Xi Jinping will also be present. But even before that Nepal should send diplomatic notes to both the Indian and the Chinese governments regarding their agreement to resume border trade through the Lipulek.&nbsp; Here is a timeline of the developments regarding the Lipulek: Sino-Indian Agreement of 1954 This 8-year Agreement on Trade and Exchange between Tibet and India was signed in Peking on 29 April, 1954 by the Chinese Vice-Foreign Minister Chang Han Fu and the Indian Ambassador Nedyam Raghavan.&nbsp; There was no explicit mention on the border settlements either on the Line of Actual Control (LAC) or on Ladakh, although trade and pilgrimage through Lipulek and other 5 passes (Sipki La, Mana Pass, Niti Pass, Kungri Bingri Pass and Dharma Pass) were agreed upon.&nbsp; Trade between Uttar Pradesh state and the Tibet Autonomous Region was through ‘border &nbsp;point of the agreement states: ‘With a view to facilitating the visits of persons engaged in border trade and the exchange of commodities and means of transportation, (India and China) have decided that Lipulek (Qiangla) be the border pass for the entrance and exit of the said persons, commodities and means of transportation from the two sides.’ The agreement expired on 6 June 1962 during the Sino-Indian war, and the two sides did not renew it. Bilateral ties started to normalise only in the 1990s with the Indian decision in 1988 to abandon its policy of settling ‘territorial issue’ for ‘normalisation of relations’. India There was no reaction from Nepal to the 1954 agreement since Nepal did not have diplomatic relations with China yet at the time. Sino-Indian Agreement of 2005 The Political Parameters and the Guiding Principles for the Settlement of the Sino-Indian Boundary Question is detailed in 11 Articles, which outline the steps to be taken for a Peaceful and Tranquil Border. The agreement was a direct outcome of the Special Representatives mechanism that had been set up through a 2003 agreement. It also incorporated the Confidence Building Measures in Military Field along the Line of Actual Control (LAC) in the Sino-Indian Border Areas signed in 1996.&nbsp; A protocol on Modalities for the Implementation of Confidence Building Measures in the Military Field along the Line of Actual Control in the India-China Border Areas signed during Chinese Premier Wen Jiabao’s India visit, which stated in Clause 2 of Article 5: ‘Both sides agree to extend in principle to expand the mechanism of border meeting points to include Kibithu Dhamal in the Eastern Sector and Lipulek Pass (Qing La) in the Middle Sector. The precise locations of these border meeting points will be decided upon mutual consultations.’ Nepal’s Foreign Ministry issued a statement in 2005 stating that Nepal had asked China about the issue and the Chinese Embassy clarified that the agreement had nothing to do with Kalapani. This was perhaps the first time that Nepal had objected to the Sino-Indian agreement on Lipulek. King Gyanendra had staged a coup d’état on 1 February 2005, just two months prior to this agreement. The Nepali press voiced criticism of China in particular for disregarding the country’s sentiment.&nbsp; Sino-Indian Agreement of 2015 India and China signed several documents during the state visit of Chinese President XI Jinping to India on 18 September 2011. Number one on the list was: ’Opening a New Route for Indian Pilgrimage (Kailash Mansarovar Yatra) to the Tibet Autonomous Region of the People’s Republic of China’.&nbsp; The Indian foreign ministry stated: ‘The MoU provides for conducting the annual Kailash Mansarovar Yatra through Nathula Pass in Sikkim in addition to the existing Lipulek Pass in Uttarakhand’. On May 15, 2015, China and India issued a Joint Statement during Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s visit to China. Point 28 under the ‘Trans-border Cooperation’, states that the two sides agreed to ‘hold negotiation on augmenting the list of trades commodities, and expand border trade at Nathu La, Quingla/Lipulek Pass and Sipki La Pass’. Nepal’s objection to the 2015 agreement was stronger than in 2005. Prime Minister Sushil Koirala called up Narendra Modi to express Nepal’s displeasure It was not until 2020 that Nepal’s Foreign Minister disclosed that ‘Nepal had expressed its disagreement in 2015 through separate diplomatic notes addressed to the governments of both India and China … including Lipulek Pass as a bilateral trade route without Nepal’s consent.’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250826060824_d4497e2620bba81211d27e427393974877e09006abc26e13055508996e5b29ea.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250826060824_d4497e2620bba81211d27e427393974877e09006abc26e13055508996e5b29ea" data-rendition-name="original" width="1108" height="1550" loading="lazy" alt="Lipulek dispute explainer"> </figure>  The new political map of India published by the Survey of India in November 2019 that incorporated areas east of the Kali River including Kalapani as Indian territory sparked renewed public, and political, attention to the Mahakali dispute. The Nepal government then countered by formally approving the publication of the new Political and Administrative Map of Nepal including all territories lying to the east of the Mahakali River on May 18, 2020. In June, the House of Representatives unanimously endorsed the second amendment to the Constitution of Nepal to update the country’s new political map in the national emblem. Sino-Indian Consensus of 2024 A 6-point Consensus on Peace and Tranquility on the Line of Actual Control (LAC) was agreed on December 18, 2024 between the Special Representative of the People’s Republic of China, Wang Yi, and the Special Representative of the Republic of India, Ajit Doval.&nbsp; India has not denied that this is a consensus, while China made it clear that this was not a Joint Statement. This Consensus is in line with the 2005 agreement, and was agreed during the 23rd round of the Special Representatives talks held after a gap of five years aimed at restoring bilateral ties frozen because of the military standoff in Ladakh. The agreement included: cross-border communication and cooperation, promoting the resumption of pilgrimages by Indians to Xizang, cooperation on crossborder rivers, and trade at the Nathu La Pass. Nepal made no reaction to the statement despite Lipulek being the pilgrimage route for Mansarovar and Kailash.&nbsp; Prabhakar Sharma is a construction engineer and an international border expert who has worked as a survey engineer for the Cameroon-Nigeria border demarcation by the United Nations.

Lipulek dispute explainer

An average Nepali could live 3.3 years longer if air pollution is reduced to meet the World Health Organization (WHO) guideline, according the annual <a href="https://aqli.epic.uchicago.edu/">Air Quality Life Index</a> 2025 published this week. The annual average concentration of tiny suspended particles in the air (PM2.5) in Nepal in 2023 was 38.3 μg/m3, nearly eight times the WHO standard, and 10% higher than 2022. Thirty years ago, air pollution in Nepal was half the current levels. WHO says particulate concentration above 5μg/m3 &nbsp;is<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/what-is-invisible-is-more-dangerous"> hazardous to health</a>.&nbsp; The most <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/why-is-the-air-in-bhaktapur-so-bad">polluted parts of Nepal</a> are along the Indian border in Rutahat, Mahottari, Dhanusha, Parsa and Bara districts in Madhes Povince where average life expectancy is reduced by as much as 5.3 years.&nbsp; People in Sarlahi, Siraha, Saptari, Morang, Sunsari, Rupandehi and Jhapa are also dying at least 4 years earlier. The Air Quality Index 2025 report which is published annually by the Energy Policy Institute at the University of Chicago, says the figure is relatively lower for Kathmandu and Lalitpur at 2.6 and 2.4 years. After the Madhes, Kosi and Lumbini Provinces are the most polluted — especially in towns along industrial corridors and near the border. Karnali Province was by far the cleanest, followed by Sudurpaschim. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/epicentre-of-pollution">Epicentre of pollution</a>, Sonia Awale  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250828060856_136770cc84e114e8993af82e6a682c45d9458060e4ecf45f18e9f210673e1279.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250828060856_136770cc84e114e8993af82e6a682c45d9458060e4ecf45f18e9f210673e1279" data-rendition-name="original" width="753" height="584" loading="lazy" alt="AQLI map"> <figcaption>Potential gain in life expectancy from permanently reducing PM2.5 from 2023 concentration to the WHO guideline.</figcaption> </figure>  Air pollution is now the leading external<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/cleaner-air-longer-lives-0z0okfeu"> threat to life expectancy in Nepal</a>, exceeding both tobacco and diet-related risks, which reduced average lifespans of Nepalis by 1.9 years and 1.3 years respectively. The Air Quality Management Action Plan for Kathmandu Valley introduced in 2017 had identified vehicular emissions, brick kilns, and construction as the most polluting. It adopted measures to strengthen air quality monitoring, develop emissions inventory, and conduct impact assessments. Other major sources of emissions in Nepal include <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/no-smoke-without-fire-p7vb9dcj">forest fires</a>, crop residue and garbage burning as well as transboundary pollution from India and Pakistan. The report says India is the world’s most polluted country with the particulate concentration in 2023 at 41 μg/m3, an average resident in India could live 3.5 years longer if pollution levels were brought down to meet the WHO guideline. Residents of New Delhi on average would live 8.2 years longer if they breathed clean air. South Asia has some of the world’s most polluted cities. On some winter days, Kathmandu records the worst air quality in the world. In 2023, PM2.5 concentrations in South Asia declined by 9.6% between 2021 and 2022 due to lockdowns during the peak of the Covid-19 pandemic. ‘After a dip in 2022, particulate pollution in South Asia increased by 2.8% in 2023 — though it remained 7% lower than in 2021,’ <a href="https://aqli.epic.uchicago.edu/report/annual-update-2025">states the report</a>. ‘In the region’s most polluted countries, particulate pollution’s impact on life expectancy is nearly twice that of childhood, and maternal malnutrition and more than five times that of unsafe water, sanitation and handwashing.’ Elsewhere, unprecedented wildfires caused particulate concentrations to rise to levels not seen since 2011 in the United States and since 1998 in Canada. China also registered a decline in air quality, an increase of 2.8% in particulate pollution in 2023 relative to 2022, the first in a decade since the start of its ‘War on Pollution’ in 2014.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250828060856_94860b929d0fb161220ad72ecb76fcd29ba8e306bd6b844485a4171dadb6bb47.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250828060856_94860b929d0fb161220ad72ecb76fcd29ba8e306bd6b844485a4171dadb6bb47" data-rendition-name="original" width="754" height="501" loading="lazy" alt="AQLI line graph"> <figcaption>Annual average PM2.5 concentration in Nepal from 1998-2023.</figcaption> </figure>  Globally, the PM2.5 concentration in 2023 was 1.5% higher than in 2022, and nearly 5 times the WHO guideline. If global particulate pollution were permanently reduced to meet this guideline, an average person around the world would gain 1.9 years of life, adding 15.1 billion total life years to the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/the-future-is-older">global population</a>, the report adds. ‘Particulate pollution remained the greatest external threat to human life expectancy in 2023, with <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/air-pollution-is-more-dangerous-than-smoking">its impact comparable to smoking</a> and surpassing other major health risks,’ the report says. ‘Its toll on life expectancy is more than 4 times that of alcohol use, 5 times that of transport injuries or unsafe water, sanitation, and handwashing, and more than 6 times that of HIV/AIDS.’ The report also highlights the need for open data, and says that accessible air quality information has translated into reduced particulate concentrations and gains in life expectancy in the United States, China, and Poland. Besides data, the report says, investment in monitoring and other air quality management infrastructure must be matched by political will, ambitious policies, capacity building, and sustained enforcement.

Warning: breathing is hazardous to health

It cannot be a coincidence that after pushing bills to constrict freedom of expression and allow greater <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/security-or-espionage">surveillance of citizens</a>, Nepal’s government is now tightening controls on civil society.
In a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/guest-editorial/command-and-control">series of recent moves</a> journalists have been sued for contempt of court, imprisoned for YouTube videos, or ordered by courts to desist from investigating corrupt officials.
An amendment to the Print and Publications Act that would hand the power to shut online media to the Chief District Officer (CDO). Another draft Bill would allow a political appointee to head a new Media Council with the power to revoke a journalist’s license. The draft counter-intelligence Bill would let random officials to arbitrarily tap phones, read emails and trail citizens.
Now comes yet another draft Bill that would replace the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=10675">Social Welfare Council (SWC)</a> with direct government control over registration, regulation, and management of non-governmental organisations, nonprofits and charities. There are more than 54,000 NGOs, 200 international NGOs registered with the SWC.
The draft makes civil society organisations needlessly jump through hoops to carry out work that complements the government in the social sector. Critics say the Bill was drafted without any consultation with <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/nepal-s-rights-groups-must-step-up-4r4z6ck4">civic groups</a>.
“This Bill’s content is questionable whether it intends to allow for civil society organisations in Nepal a free space to operate,” concludes Dr SP Kalaunee, Country Representative of BlinkNow Foundation and Chair of the Association of International NGOs in Nepal (AIN). “The draft seems oriented towards controling rather than facilitating the work of civil society organisations.”
The Bill will be open for feedback from the public, and integrates the National Directives Act (1961), Association Registration Act (1977), and the Social Welfare Act (1992) and proposes dissolving the SWC and replacing it with a new Social Welfare Department under the Ministry of Women, Children and Senior Citizens.
Non-government groups will now be required to get approval from the Registrar Office, the CDO or the provincial government depending on their area of operation. Those working across provinces will have to get permission from the federal government. &nbsp;
The government says the Bill is intended to vet organisations to see if they are engaged in espionage, violate national security, assist a foreign state, commit treason, cause strife between federal units, or incite communal violence.&nbsp;
CSOs working in Nepal have long called for legislation to better facilitate their work, minimise administrative and bureaucratic red tape which have posed operational challenges. But they are opposed to such drastic control.&nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-crow-and-the-scarecrow">The crow and the scarecrow</a>, Om Astha Rai
The NGO Federation of Nepal also issued a statement this week calling the Bill ‘retrograde and cumbersome’. It added: ‘Most of its provisions are intended to further constrain and control civil society organisations rather than facilitate and strengthen them, and reduce the role of citizen participation … it is an attack on our civil liberties, inclusivity, and transparency, and curtails our <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=5156">democratic values and constitutional rights</a>.’ &nbsp;
<a href="about:blank">Nepal’s graduation</a> from least-developed country status next year may mean less aid for Nepal, and higher interest rates on loans from multilateral creditors. The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/how-usaid-cut-affects-nepal">closure of USAID </a>and reduction in bilateral grants means the work of INGOs will be even more vital – especially to meet its <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/target-2030-for-maternal-and-newborn-health">SDG targets by 2030</a>.&nbsp;
“We are competing with other countries at a time when the global aid environment is shrinking, so the support we receive is directly dependent on a conducive environment for INGOs to operate and function,” says Kalaunee. “INGOs follow regulations of the nations they operate in, they will not protest or wait around for governments to change their minds or policies.”
Social safety net
Since 1977, the work of non-governmental actors in Nepal has been regulated by the Social Service National Coordination Council (SSNCC) chaired by Queen Aishwarya.
After the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/one-moment-30-years-ago-today">1990 People’s Movement</a>, King Birendra set up the Social Welfare Council (SWC) as an autonomous body in 1992 through the Social Welfare Act. But since then the SWC has been dogged by controversy and allegations of corruption and extortion.
In 2018, the Commission for the Investigation of Abuse of Authority (CIAA) filed a Rs315 million corruption case against 14 individuals, including the Minister of Women, Children and Social Welfare and SWC chair Badri Prasad Neupane and other officials for violating public procurement laws to rent out three hectares of its property around Bhrikuti Mandap.
Civil society groups have for years called for reforms in the SWC, and a report was drawn up to restructure it before this Bill proposed its dissolution. INGOs in particular will now have to go through the Social Welfare Department and multiple ministries for permissions.
A particularly objectionable provision in the draft stipulates that NGOs must have a Board of Director made up almost entirely of secretaries of various ministries. The NGO Federation has urged the government to take a civil society-friendly approach and not tangle its work in red tape and control. It says the government has no option but to revise the bill in its current form.
“Civil society organisations need an open space to operate, and an autonomous body to oversee them,” says Kalaunee. “Non-government organisations support in the areas prioritised by the government but by definition they cannot be a part of government.”

himalaya