The 208th group of 21 American Peace Corps volunteers arrived in Nepal last month, the first since the Covid evacuation. Nearly 4,000 young Americans have served in Nepal since 1962. But the new volunteers will find a very different country from what their predecessors experienced nearly 60 years ago. Excerpts of diary entries of Daniel W Edwards after he flew into Kathmandu in October 1966 and walked to Dhading district where he taught at a village school for one and a half years.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230707210716_aed0dfa93dce52e1e570c5767b470d084dcfafb3ba501002deb4e62899c250e4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20230707210716_aed0dfa93dce52e1e570c5767b470d084dcfafb3ba501002deb4e62899c250e4" data-rendition-name="original" width="995" height="1523" loading="lazy" alt="Dhading 1966 NT"><figcaption>Long before Instagram were Rs1 Aerogrammes which took 2 weeks to reach America from Dhading.</figcaption></figure>  17 October The day of departure from Kathmandu to Dhading was inauspicious. I awoke at 3AM with “intestinal disturbances”, managed breakfast, and by the time Peace Corps regional director Al Dieffenbach appeared at 9:00, I decided to consult the doctor before leaving. We had loaded my gear into the jeep station wagon and had driven into the Snow View Hotel in Lazimpat when the clutch gave out. I grabbed my medical kit and hurried back to bed. Then came the chills and fever. I felt quite sick and had a colleague summon the doctor. He was a long time in coming, but in the meantime I was bothered by a solicitous but an overbearing Anglo-Indian woman who ran the hotel. Al returned and said the trip was scrubbed for the day. The doc believed I had a virus, not dysentery. I was moved upstairs to a “sick ward”, and the fever was 102.6. Finally managed some sleep about 4:30PM. A well-dressed gent stopped by to check on me at 8:30. I returned to bed with more drugs and wondered what tomorrow would bring. 18 October I woke up at 6:15, felt much better, and heard a truck outside trying unsuccessfully to start. A delegation of volunteers was leaving by plane that morning. The struggles of the truck seemed amusing, until it dawned on me that the same truck was likely the one I and Butch Amundson would need. That was the case. At 8:30 Al showed up … still the truck would not start. So finally a USAID jeep pickup came out, we drove to the PC office to load up and set out about 11:00. Alas, just as we were leaving town at 25mph, a great shimmy commenced toward the front of the vehicle, as if the wheels were about to come off. Back to the PC office, then to AID headquarters at Rabi Bhawan to exchange vehicles. Another jeep wagoneer, we drove to the Embassy to fill the tank. There I noticed the right front tire had a nice hole in the tread. After lunch at Mr Wong’s Peace Restaurant in Lazimpat, we again set sail, piled high with baggage. We passed Balaju and headed up a winding dirt road through a beautifully green landscape. About 15 miles out, at Ranipauwa located at 6,000 feet at the top of the pass, while pulling over to let a truck pass, there was a loud bang: our left rear tire had exploded. Butch went back to Kathmandu in an old 1940 passenger touring car when we discovered our spare tire likewise had a large hole in the tread, the jeep also had no jack.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230707210720_3651f682e22d3ab64a4c0a7143152dd921eae82589b6061ca5d39772cac255e1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20230707210720_3651f682e22d3ab64a4c0a7143152dd921eae82589b6061ca5d39772cac255e1" data-rendition-name="original" width="900" height="296" loading="lazy" alt="Dhading 1966 NT"><figcaption>View of Tinkune and Kathmadu from a plane about to land in 1972 (left) and at present (right).</figcaption></figure>  Butch subsequently told us that a woman in the car (which was carrying 9 or 10 people) became ill and vomited in the back seat. The car ran out of gas outside Kathmandu, so Butch walked the rest of the way into the city. We had a nice dal bhat dinner at Ranipauwa and bedded down inside a shop that turned out to be an all-night cigarette-concession stand. When there was no knocking from without, the old lady was singing from within to a small child. Promptly at 4AM an inconsiderate rooster started crowing, a goat started bleating, and the woman and child began an unintelligible conversation. At 6:00 I got up to see the mountains, but it was still cloudy. Gradually the clouds broke, and the majestic Ganesh Himal loomed pinkish in the sky. Then a group of three or four summits appeared in the clear air. By 11:00 we were getting restless, when another AID jeep finally appeared. Butch had brought three tires, so two tires were changed, the old jeep reloaded, and we set off down toward Trisuli. There were sharp drops to the right and the terrain was such that the road went in and around all the hills. Trisuli was hot and we stopped at volunteer Allen Lundberg’s comfortable house by the side of the river. Saw the newly opened hospital with an x-ray machine just installed. Plus the hydroelectric plant and a row of bright lights around the generators in the middle of rural Nepal. 20 October Al left early returning to Kathmandu. We searched for porters, but as Dasain had just started, not even one was available. We looked at the school, the bazar and decided to set out on the morrow for Dhading, for it seemed very indefinite (“bholi parsi”) when we could get porters. Another volunteer teacher in Trisuli, “Mr. Bob” had taught all his students to say “Howdy” so as I walked through the bazar, kids kept calling out “Howdy” to me.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230707210724_83b6a39c3c22edb8758e8b3d336542af3d1fd729fb4eb044d9ae273d3f6903f2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20230707210724_83b6a39c3c22edb8758e8b3d336542af3d1fd729fb4eb044d9ae273d3f6903f2" data-rendition-name="original" width="612" height="410" loading="lazy" alt="Dhading 1966 NT"><figcaption>The Peace Corps Volunteer (PCV) office in Kathmandu.</figcaption></figure>  21 October Four of us, two Trisuli volunteers, Butch and I set out. About four miles out of town we crossed the Trisuli River via cable and bucket (tuin), my Kelty backpack and I lurching out across the river and being transported to the opposite shore by a man pulling a rope. The Trishuli volunteers turned back and shortly thereafter, we came to a good-sized stream with no apparent bridge to cross. In retrospect we already had lost the right trail. As it was, every ten minutes or so there were forks in the path going in two or three directions. We guessed the route which led along the river. Asking directions was of little help, because we always got in reply a stream of (to us) unintelligible Nepali accompanied by vague gestures. Someone would say Dhading was four kos distant (eight miles), while hours later someone else would say six kos (12 miles) remained. So we just kept walking. We definitely were going the round-about way: we waded across streams, tramped through front yards of houses, and walked between rice paddies, balancing on narrow strips of earth which separated the levels of the fields. We meandered along a footpath that was at the top of a steep river bank, which was fast eroding away. We followed the river a long time, steadily losing elevation before turning up into the hills. We reached the top of the closest ridge, but Butch’s knee was giving him trouble, and as it was nearly 3:00, we dropped down to a stream and rested. There we met a fellow who told us we could not reach Dhading until the next morning, but he (kind soul!) would take us to the village we had seen from the first ridge.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230707210732_69b1bf6a68ef97029be44b2192d987e455c974a20546d54d3ec429a347da7136.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20230707210732_69b1bf6a68ef97029be44b2192d987e455c974a20546d54d3ec429a347da7136" data-rendition-name="original" width="1066" height="798" loading="lazy" alt="Dhading 1966 NT"><figcaption>Sunaula Bazar, the headquarters of Dhading District in 1966.</figcaption></figure>  Dada-Gaun (village on the hill) was its name, and we were led into a yard. On the front porch sat a grizzled-looking man who puffed on his hookah and listened stoically while our guide explained our predicament. Soon was brought out what I think was dahi (curd), but the PC doc had hammered into our heads the rules not to eat anything raw that hadn’t been peeled or to drink liquids that hadn’t been boiled or water that at least was treated with tincture of iodine. While I was trying to explain why we couldn’t accept the dahi although we greatly appreciated the gesture, I remembered my package of biscuits and promptly passed them around. Butch brought out cigarettes, and then it turned out that bhat was available. But what a sight it was: a dirty white most unappetising-looking mass and served with it, goat’s meat in bony chunks with hair liberally floating around in a brass bowl. But we were hungry and ate most of it with our fingers. By this time quite a crowd had gathered, and all were frankly curious and speculating who we were and why we were there. I doubted the women and young girls had ever seen two tall white guys, certainly never in their small village. Taking out my razor and small mirror, I decided to shave, and that created quite a spectacle. I saw a very elaborate Dasain swing (ping) under construction, which had been nicely designed. About 8:30 I bedded down in my sleeping bag with a wad of cloths for a pillow on our host’s front porch. 22 October Managed to swallow a little more of that cold, unsightly food and departed at 8:00. Our impression that we could reach Dhading in two hours turned out to be sadly mistaken. Noticed some huge spiders in webs along the trail. Then we began to climb. After ascending that ridge, we followed the contours of the hills, going round and round and sometimes up, sometimes down. It was a beautiful valley, but fatigue and weakness were having their effects. By noon we had waded across a spectacular cascading stream, gone into a village only to backtrack and head up yet another hill. We really felt done in by now, and rest stops were becoming longer and more frequent. About 1:30 we were about to fade out when, at an iodine-flavored water stop, another Nepali, taking pity on us, gave us some oranges and boiled milk, a great lift to morale and typical of the generosity Nepalis show to foreigners about whom they know nothing. Up the last ridge we struggled, then to see down below our destination at last: Dhading Bazar. There, a contingent of the curious stared at us as we reached the one and only unpaved street, and we were taken to the headmaster’s place. Soon Mr Badri appeared, a youthful and good-looking fellow, 22 years old, still intending to finish his BA. He had almost given up hope, as I was three days late, yet expecting my arrival, he had not gone to his home in Baglung for Dasain.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230707210724_5a9a0b8c5877736648bd0c673d4ee0379b3fb7af02bec0befcf271e81879ad2f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20230707210724_5a9a0b8c5877736648bd0c673d4ee0379b3fb7af02bec0befcf271e81879ad2f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1063" height="792" loading="lazy" alt="Dhading 1966 NT"><figcaption>The author Daniel W Edwards in front of the school building in Dhading in 1966.</figcaption></figure>  [Update: Two months later, Mr Badri left the village in the dead of night (“Bhagyo” I was told) with a Grade 7 girl. I never saw him again. Nepal had lots of surprises in store for us!] My energy restored by a fairly good meal, I set off for the temple [Bhairavsthan] on top of the hill. A good steep climb, and what a sight upon arriving. A couple of hundred people (including many Magar dressed in their festive best) were crowded on that knoll anticipating the animal sacrifices. In short order a goat, water buffalo, and several small pigs were beheaded as offerings to Durga. So this is “culture shock” I thought, while watching this amazing ritual. Not five months before, I was living on a beautiful university campus in northern California, with no knowledge of such happenings on the other side of the world. Mr. Badri gave us a full account in English of the history of the temple and its gods, and he wanted to make sure we had a good view of all the blood-letting. On the way back to the bazar, I was introduced to a few local dignitaries, who greeted the new foreign teacher respectfully. Then to bed in an attic across from the shop where Mr. Badri stayed.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230707210728_4e50bd8b1895dba1145ace6620b60db6cf86fc485eb88a10e9e187aff9e389f4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20230707210728_4e50bd8b1895dba1145ace6620b60db6cf86fc485eb88a10e9e187aff9e389f4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1067" height="795" loading="lazy" alt="Dhading 1966 NT"><figcaption>The temple where animal sacrifices were made, with Ganesh Himal in the distance. It came down in the 2015 earthquake.</figcaption></figure>  23 October Went over the hill for morning tea with Mr Sharma, the Sanskrit and Nepali teacher and former headmaster. Watched the men play cards, the family puja ceremony at which tika were put on their foreheads, and then sat down in the middle of the courtyard amidst hundreds of flies to lunch. The food wasn’t bad, though a lot of uncooked stuff gave me pause, but nothing I was served was wasted, as a goat finished off whatever was left on my plate. In the afternoon I began reading English Philosophy Since 1900 which had no relevance to my current situation in Nepal, but in my pack I had brought only that one book, no language material and one change of clothes. It was dark by shortly after 6:00, strange to see no lights. I am writing this account by kerosene light. A young boy, Shiba, began cooking for us. Got him to wash his hands, but of course we can’t clean or prepare food the way we’d like to. The only thing we can do is to put iodine drops into our water bottles and wait 30 minutes before drinking. It’s a wonder we don’t get sick, though this morning my stomach is a bit uneasy. Back of our place is a stream and a hill, which is the communal latrine for men. Roving domestic animals nearby add their contributions as well. 24 October Woke up very sore. The wooden bench I slept on was flat and hard. Only a thin straw mat for a mattress. I have no international 1-rupee aerograms with me, so can’t catch up on my US correspondence. Mr. Badri expects living quarters will be found in a few days (“bholi parsi”), but local porters to go to Trisuli and bring my luggage will not be available for a couple of days.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230707210740_2517c3f7b04eae67526268652d02017156878917c44c3bf0ddb92af0efa6e854.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20230707210740_2517c3f7b04eae67526268652d02017156878917c44c3bf0ddb92af0efa6e854" data-rendition-name="original" width="1065" height="822" loading="lazy" alt="Dhading 1966 NT"><figcaption>Grade 4 students in English language class. It was warmer and quieter in the open.</figcaption></figure>  In the afternoon I went to see the school. Well, what can you say! From the outside it has a nice appearance—newly constructed walls of stone and mud and a slate roof. But inside there is virtually nothing. One section has three classrooms and an office. There is a walled partition in between, about seven feet high, not extending to the ceiling. On the dirt floor rest a few worn benches. I ended up teaching outside on a level plot of ground away from the school, since it was impossible to teach over the din of chanting students in the school building. The school office contains a few old maps, charts, three small portable blackboards, a table, a few chairs, and a carrom board which provides teachers entertainment. I was sitting there trying to digest the situation before me, as the breezes blew through the glass-less windows (no doors either). The other section of the building has no partitions—it’s like a big shed, with 70 first and second class students at one end, the third-through-fifth students at the other. The attendance figures I was first given turned out to be grossly exaggerated. Apparently many students registered but few attended regularly. Perhaps 20 first and second graders were present on any given day. My Grade 8 class had only seven or eight regular attendees. There were very few girl students.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230707210736_06a2db0d7d865c23d2498616b5a65843380bddcbb974ab77db2eb4b41de4ae64.png" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20230707210736_06a2db0d7d865c23d2498616b5a65843380bddcbb974ab77db2eb4b41de4ae64" data-rendition-name="original" width="677" height="399" loading="lazy" alt="Dhading 1966 NT"><figcaption>The author in 1966 at the Bhairavi School in Dhading built with volunteer labour.  </figcaption></figure>  Mr Badri also mentioned a local faction that opposes the school, fearing that their own interests would somehow be threatened. As it is, Badri has received no salary for some time, and the government is supposed to provide the school only Rs2,000 rupees a year. The rest of the budget must be met by student fees and contributions. My work as an English teacher is definitely cut out for me. 28 October Four porters, carrying our suitcases, a few supplies and PC-issued goods in their doko, arrived from Trisuli. I paid them a total of 70 rupees; Butch had given 10 rupees advance in Trisuli. Each porter thus earned 20 rupees for carrying a load from noon the day before until this evening for one and a half day’s work.

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Dhading Journal 1966

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

Visit Nepal in the monsoon

The final investigation report on the crash of a Saurya Airlines jet on 24 July 2024 at Kathmandu airport has revealed flaws in the carrier’s technical operation procedures, poor monitoring by the Civil Aviation Authority of Nepal (CAAN) and gaps in the airport’s emergency response. Eighteen people including a child were killed, and only the captain survived as the plane plunged seconds after takeoff, crashing within the airport perimeter. This was the latest in a series of aircraft accidents in previous years, and further tarnished Nepal’s already poor aviation safety record and contributed to the country being retained in the EU’s air safety list. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The circumstances in the Saurya crash were different from the Yeti Airlines crash in Pokhara in January 2022 that killed all 72 on board, and two Tara Air crashes in February 2016 and May 2022 on approach to Jomsom that together claimed 45 lives. However, all four tragedies were a result of negligence of carriers and crew, failure to follow procedures, regulatory slackness, and overconfidence. The Saurya crash, especially, was a glaring example of how an ailing airline broke its own rules to allow passengers, including non-employees, a joy ride to Pokhara on a maintenance ferry flight. CRASH REPORT The Final Investigation Report prepared by the Aircraft Accident Investigation Commission and released on the first anniversary of the crash last week carried a long list of rules that were ignored or broken, and of regulatory failure. The first mistake was to cram spares, tools and inflammable chemicals needed for the aircraft’s C-Check in Pokhara into the cargo hold flouting its own ground handling procedures.&nbsp; There was no check-in of passengers, some of whom were not even employees – even though regulations say only flight and maintenance crew should be on board a maintenance positioning flight. Many brought their own luggage into the plane and stored it unsecured in the cabin. There was no flight attendant to give a safety briefing to passengers. The load and trim charts given to the flight crew were rough estimates, and the total takeoff weight of the plane was 18,300kg plus or minus 200 kg. That would still have been all right, but there was a glaring mistake in the speedchart Saurya pilots were using to calculate the minimum takeoff speed (known as VR), and it had been wrong ever since the 21-year-old aircraft entered service with the airline in 2017. FAULTY DATA&nbsp; The Commission probed Flight Data Recorder inputs from previous takeoffs of the Canadian-built CRJ200-LR in 2023-2024 and found that the undetected error in the speedchart had caused the plane to pitch up at an abnormal rotation rate at least 18 times on previous takeoffs.&nbsp; Any rotation rate more than 3°/sec is regarded as unusual. But on at least two occasions, this aircraft with tail number 9N-AME had rotation rates of 5.8°/sec and 5.5°/sec, the second one was when the pilot who survived was flying in March 2024.&nbsp; On this particular day, the plane’s rotation rate was 6.5°/sec, causing it to go into a deep stall soon after takeoff, the Commission report said. Essentially, the plane was not flying fast enough down the runway to take off safely.&nbsp; It is not yet clear whether excess weight, unsecured luggage, wrong centre of gravity were also factors, but relying on a faulty speedchart for the given takeoff weight, the captain flying pulled back on the yoke before the plane had reached takeoff speed and at a pitch angle that was too steep. The investigation report says the plane then went into a deep stall and started banking right with the stick shaking. At this point, the flight officer on the right hand seat is heard on the cockpit voice recorder saying: “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Sir, Sir, Sir…” It then banked left before the pilot flying turned the plane sharply to the right again in an evasive action to avoid the parking aprons of the international and domestic terminals. Had he not done so, there would have been a disaster of a much greater magnitude at Kathmandu airport that day. The plane scraped the runway with its right wingtip, collided with a container having helicopter spare parts, and plunged into a gully east of the runway, exploding in a fireball. The investigation also noted that the impact forces seemed to be survivable for some occupants. The fire trucks took unnecessarily long to reach the site even though it was inside the airport perimeter. The absence of an ICAO-standard runway strip, inadequate rescue drills, lack of training, and a blocked emergency service gate leading to the crash site were cited as other factors. &nbsp;&nbsp; <h2>Timestamp of a Disaster</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250731110724_39cdd04693994ce6e55a5b302905c0fa4884fe85bed21ff0779bb1439f3a5725.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250731110724_39cdd04693994ce6e55a5b302905c0fa4884fe85bed21ff0779bb1439f3a5725" data-rendition-name="original" width="778" height="826" loading="lazy" alt="Flouting rules caused Saurya tragedy NT"> </figure>  11:10:34 - The Saurya Airlines CRJ200 on the takeoff roll from runway 02. It had a takeoff weight of about 18,300kg, but the pilot’s speedcard had a previously undetected mistake about the minimum takeoff speed. 11:10:55 -The plane with tail number 9N-AME goes into deep stall soon after takeoff because it does not have enough speed to lift its weight. The plane also has an abnormally steep nose-up attitude.&nbsp; 11:11:03 - Without enough speed to generate lift, the plane banks right, then left and right again in CCTV photos taken from the domestic apron (below). If it had not banked right, it could have hit the aprons and terminal buildings. Seen parked is Saurya’s other CRJ200 with tail number 9N-ANM.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250731110732_608132f7225c649125cca2691dd6a6bf930984c5b359e888d7ad9e5eacce3afd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250731110732_608132f7225c649125cca2691dd6a6bf930984c5b359e888d7ad9e5eacce3afd" data-rendition-name="original" width="770" height="555" loading="lazy" alt="Flouting rules caused Saurya tragedy NT"> </figure>  11:11:08 - The plane scrapes the runway with its right wingtip, and falls into the gully. The captain is thrown off the left side of the cockpit and survives. 11:11:15: Plane explodes in a fireball inside the airport perimeter. Firefighters take time to reach the site because of lack of access road and a blocked gate. Read the full investigation report <a href="https://www.tourism.gov.np/files/9N-AME%20AIC%20Final%20Report.pdf">here</a>.

Flouting rules caused Saurya tragedy

American artist Peter Makela was in Nepal in 2022 on a Fulbright scholarship when he experienced the Matya festival in Patan in which devotees made the rounds of the city’s shrines.&nbsp;
He joined the procession, walking through 2,600 stupa and 140 bahal of the town. That immersion left a lasting impression.
As part of Gallery Mcube’s international residency program in Patan, he put his inspiration to canvas in the exhibition Yala Yatra: Walking, Working, Worshipping. The exhibition also coincides with this month’s Matya festival.&nbsp;
Makela has visited Nepal often in the past 11 years but he mostly stayed in and spent his time around Boudha. “This time I stayed in Patan, put the sites I wanted to visit on my map, and off I went,” he tells us. “Each of my artwork is inspired by the stupas and shrines in Patan that I visited.”
The stupa and Ganesh are recurring motifs in his watercolours, and the elephant gods are located in chaityas — reflecting the interplay and blending of the Hindu and Buddhist faiths in Kathmandu Valley.&nbsp;
The stupas and Ganesh are painted in vivid red, yellow, blue and green against abstract backgrounds meant to represent the sky.
“I use the sky as a backdrop because the sky has no border,” says Makela. “The four colours represent the four elements, the different Buddha families and also lights bouncing off of a rainbow.”
The use of just four colours for all the artwork stands out, and combined with the absence of heavy canvases, frames or stands render Makela’s art striking in its simplicity.&nbsp;
The Ganesh is always holding something and the art also portrays the elephant god’s sacred vehicle, the mouse.
While his vibrant stupas and Ganesh reflect the tangibility of Patan’s tradition and heritage, it is as if the backdrops with their shades of grey and red and yellow capture the soul of the city’s shrines.
“If you look closely, there is a sense of form and formlessness at the same time,” he says.&nbsp;
Makela walked 108 kora around the shrines during his exploration of the town, and in the process developed a spiritual connection with Patan’s heritage and traditions.&nbsp;
The exhibition connects with visitors on a deeper, more spiritual, level as well. And with it, they feel a sense of pride as well as the need to urgently preserve Patan’s heritage for future generations.
“Peter’s inclination and approach towards Nepali art and culture is fascinating, and it reflects in his work,” says Mcube curator Manish Lal Shrestha, whose international artist residency program promotes Nepal’s cultural heritage. &nbsp;&nbsp;
Yala Yatra: Walking, Working, Worshipping
1-5 August&nbsp;
10AM-7PM
Gallery Mcube, Patan

Walking, working, worshipping in Patan

French citizen Louis arrived in Nepal for the first time earlier this year, planning to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-abcs-of-a-winter-trek-in-nepal">trek the Annapurna Circuit </a>before heading down to Bardia to hopefully catch a glimpse of some<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-counting-its-tigers"> tigers</a>. Before he began his journey from Besisahar, Louis (who only revealed his first name) had imagined breathing crisp mountain air, and following the melodious gurgle of the Marsyangdi.&nbsp; Instead, he had to breathe fumes and dust all the way to Chame. Louis says he masked his face with a handkerchief: “It was not what I expected, this is not right.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025080304080_f03fce1527cf8a63178e4e82589a1a7096c8cfa28893ca4a5f7fe82d91a6e38a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2025080304080_f03fce1527cf8a63178e4e82589a1a7096c8cfa28893ca4a5f7fe82d91a6e38a" data-rendition-name="original" width="2419" height="1814" loading="lazy" alt="Manang trails NT 1"> </figure>  Many other trekkers are similarly disappointed as roads have been built along what used to be <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/a-walk-back-in-time-chandragiri-hatiban">walking trails</a>. Manang and Humla are the last remote regions in the Himalaya to be connected to the national road network. &nbsp;Construction of the 87km Besisahar-Manang road began in 1994, but was stalled during <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/14-years-after-conflict-no-closure-in-nepal">the Maoist conflic</a>t, and finally finished in 2012.&nbsp; Most of it has not yet been blacktopped, and sections have been carved out of vertical cliff faces, making them treacherous. But it has allowed road access to Manang, a journey that previously took a week on foot.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025080304084_32b3ca875a0df9f1dd42dbe915e6f6a2cd4f2e53f1cf2d3ee5cbdb3435905000.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2025080304084_32b3ca875a0df9f1dd42dbe915e6f6a2cd4f2e53f1cf2d3ee5cbdb3435905000" data-rendition-name="original" width="2400" height="1505" loading="lazy" alt="Manang trails NT 1"> </figure>  While the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/the-road-out-of-nepal">road has improved access</a>, it has impacted on<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/trekking-in-the-time-of-climate-change"> trekking tourism </a>— the mainstay of Manang’s economy. The number of tourists visiting the scenic valley behind the Annapurnas grew from 21,245 in 2023 to 30,866 in 2024. The Annapurna Circuit is known for unique sights like <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=9194">Tilicho</a>, one of the highest lakes in the world, the Thorong La pass that connects Manang to Mustang, and the valley’s own rich cultural heritage. Thorong La at 5,416m is the highest hiking pass in the world, and was used by locals for trade with Mustang before it became a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/lift-restrictions-on-upper-mustang">popular trekking route</a>. &nbsp; “For guests, the excitement of reaching Thorong La is now overshadowed by their disappointment of having to journey through dusty roads to get there,” says Manang lodge-owner Ongma Gurung. “That is the complaint we get the most.” <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/tourism-that-treads-lightly-on-the-land">Local tourism </a>operators are trying to get the government to build alternative foot trails. But there have been delays due to a lack of budget.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025080304084_c5f76e398182785bb17846a148e3ca89de5687b4623580f8e2d725a7a287edfa.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="2025080304084_c5f76e398182785bb17846a148e3ca89de5687b4623580f8e2d725a7a287edfa" data-rendition-name="original" width="2419" height="1762" loading="lazy" alt="Manang trails"> </figure>  The Naso Rural Municipality has identified other routes along the Annapurna Circuit in Chyamche, Tal, and Khotro so trekkers can bypass heavy vehicles involved in the construction of the Manang-Marsyangdi Hydropower Project. “But the local government cannot do everything,” admits the chair Dhan Bahadur Gurung. “And for leaders in Kathmandu, Manang is out of sight and out of mind.” Munindra Jung Gurung represents Manang in the Gandaki Provincial Assembly, and says he has raised the issue in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/pokhara-s-tourism-woes">Pokhara</a>. He is hopeful there will be a hearing. To be sure, the road is not all bad news. Locals benefit, the number of visitors has grown, and trekkers can now also save time and use it to explore <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=5960">side valleys in Manang</a>, visiting the villages like Nar and Phu. Annapurna Conservation Area (ACA) chief Rabin Kadariya concedes that the road to Upper Manang was crucial to connect the remote region with the rest of Nepal, but adds: “We have built an alternative trail connecting Talgaun, and we will consult local communities about their priorities on other hiking trails.”&nbsp;

journal

Dhading Journal 1966

Visit Nepal in the monsoon

Flouting rules caused Saurya tragedy

Walking, working, worshipping in Patan

Trailing off in Manang