<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109111140/636b84239c7e80680e06777ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1037"/><figcaption>A view of the project from across the Langtang Valley showing the receding Langtang Lirung Glacier, and the location of the intake, penstock and powerhouse. There is a drop of 300m, and the turbines generate 100kW of electricity. Photos: KUNDA DIXIT</figcaption></figure>From the edge of the terminal moraine of the Langtang Lirung Glacier, there is a 360 degree view of icy peaks, and below is the monastery town of Kyanjin blanketed in overnight snow.Towering above is Langtang Lirung with snow being blown off its 7,227m summit, with the jagged peaks of Kimshun standing like bodyguards with Tserko Ri, Yala Peak and Gang Chhenpo. And to the south is the rampart of the Naya Kanga ridge.“When I was a boy we brought the yaks up here to graze, and they could cross the ice from one side of the glacier to the other,” says Gyalbu Tamang. “This lake was formed only in the last 20 years.”<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109111140/636b84269c7e80680e06777bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>As climate change thaws the mountains, right across the eastern Himalaya in Nepal, Bhutan and southern Tibet, hundreds of new lakes have formed at the snouts of glaciers. Some have found outlets and emptied themselves, while others, like this one, swelled up dangerously.In the past 40 years, there have been 26 <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/langtang-copes-with-quake-and-covid/">glacial lake outburst floods on Nepal’s rivers</a>, and with newer and bigger lakes forming, they pose a serious risk to new roads, settlements and hydropower plants downstream.However, glacial lakes do not just need to be a threat, as has been shown by a unique project on the Langtang Lirung Glacier. This glacial lake at 4,100m is being drained to lower its level, and the water is used to generate electricity.The Langtang Microhydro Electricity Project was built three years after the 2015 earthquake-avalanche that devastated the valley, with help from the Hong Kong-based Kadoorie Charitable Foundation. The $534,000 scheme has a weir and spillway at the moraine, and the water is taken through a fibre glass-insulated penstock pipe to a powerhouse that generates 100kW of electricity, providing 24 hours of electricity to 120 households and tourist lodges in Kyanjin and Langtang.The project is a first-of-its-kind in Nepal to power a village, and holds promise for other remote Himalayan valleys where the risk posed by expanding glacial lakes can be mitigated, while at the same time providing electricity to tourism-dependent families.“It can be a plus-plus, you need to simply drive a glacial lake to turn a turbine while simultaneously lowering the water level and reducing the pressure on the moraine dam,” says energy economist and former Water Resource Minister <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/review/finding-the-nexus-between-water-food-and-energy/">Dipak Gyawali.</a>The only downside would be that most glacial lakes are at very high elevations where there are few settlements, and also the greater cost of transporting equipment by helicopter. But if the risk-reduction from glacial lake outburst floods is factored in, these multi-purpose projects would be cost-effective.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109111140/636b842a9c7e80680e06777cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1125" height="1500"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109111140/636b842d9c7e80680e06777djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1250" height="938"><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109111140/636b84309c7e80680e06777ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>There are other dangerous glacial lakes in Nepal like <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/from-nepali-press/Diverting-danger,3172">Imja</a> in the Everest region and <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/human-face-of-a-himalayan-climate-crisis/">Tso Rolpa</a> in Rolwaling Valley, where the water level has been lowered at enormous cost, but the schemes have not added the hydropower component. Tso Rolpa had a small power unit to supply electricity to the project, but it is not in use. Imja was financed by the UNDP with funding from the Global Environment Facility, while Tso Rolpa was funded by the Dutch government.Glacial lakes have been used to generate power in the Peruvian Andes, and in the Swiss Alps existing reservoirs filled with glacial melt have been generating 4% more electricity because of accelerated melting. The Swiss are even <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2019/04/17/climate/switzerland-glaciers-climate-change.html">mapping future hydropower plants</a> on glaciers for a time when all the ice will be gone. In <a href="https://www.nature.com/articles/nclimate2185.pdf?origin=ppub">Bhutan, a pilot scheme</a> on a glacial lake at 4,200m is trying to lower the water level using siphons, and plans to also see if it is feasible to generate electricity.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109111140/636b84349c7e80680e06777fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1250" height="689"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Experts say that with a little more investment, the moraine dams on glacial lakes can be strengthened for a fraction of a cost of building a new artificial dam for electricity generation. For this, the Langtang Microhydro Project presents a working model for other glacial lakes in Nepal where there are plans to lower the water level."In previous decades it used to be expensive to build power plants on glacial lakes because they were so remote, but now that roads have reached many valleys, they are more feasible," says glaciologist Pradeep Mool.Gyalbu Tamang lost his parents and many relatives in the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/langtang-copes-with-quake-and-covid/">catastrophic earthquake-avalanche in 2015</a> that killed as many as 300 people in Langtang. But for him and other trekking lodge owners who used to depend on solar panels, the 24-hour electricity has transformed the quality of life.He says: “We can charge our phones, use appliances, the children can read at night, it is like living in a city.”Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/danger-nepals-glacial-lakes-are-filling-up/">DANGER: Nepal’s glacial lakes are filling up</a>, Nepali Times

Kunda Dixit

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Nepal’s first hydropower from a glacial lake

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121152/636ce6629c7e80680e096767jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"/><figcaption>Photo: KUNDA DIXIT</figcaption></figure>It was the spring of 2015, and the trekking season was off to a good start. There was a long line of hikers on the trail along the Langtang Khola from Syabru to Lama Hotel.Trekkers who had come earlier were on their way down, hurrying to catch jeeps back to Kathmandu for their flights out. Tourism was booming, and the people of Langtang had added floors to family homes to turn them into lodges for added income.Langtang’s economy depended on trekking and the cheese-dairy business, each helping the other. Every day, there were at least 150 tourists in Langtang, acclimatising before moving up the Valley to Kyanjin or camping in the yak pastures higher up.I remember the morning of 25 April well. It was an overcast day, and the mountains were covered up. I had been in Langtang village with my parents for a religious ritual, and at 8AM started walking back to Kyanjin to the cheese factory where I am manager. My three children were at home, close to the cheese plant.Just before noon, there was a deep rumble from below the ground, and the stone walls of the cheese factory began to shake, and collapsed altogether. The roof caved in and there was dust everywhere.The ground was still shaking when there was another more ominous roar from the mountains above. Even before we could see what was coming, there was a blast of wind that knocked down everyone who was outside. Some people who had rushed out of collapsing buildings to save themselves were blown away by the fierce wind.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121152/636ce6659c7e80680e096768jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="559" height="278">Even though it was mid-day, everything went dark. The wind was blowing in dust mixed with ice, the prayer flags were fluttering wildly. It was only then that I realised we had been hit by an avalanche.There were people with broken limbs, others had been cut by flying metal roofs, there were dead yaks near the pens. I ran home to see if my children were all right, and was relieved to see that they were safe, though shaken.My son and one of my daughters were still hiding under the bed, as they had been taught in school to do in case of an earthquake. It saved their lives because the avalanche and the blast preceding it had knocked down one window, and blown right through the room and out through the other window.My next thought was about the safety of my parents. But the closer I got to Langtang village, the more worried I became. I passed relatives and friends fleeing the village, and they told me “it is all gone”, or “don’t go there”. Yet, I pressed on.The destruction to buildings was more severe the closer I got to Langtang. The dead and injured lay everywhere. Yaks and mules had been blown right across to the other side of the valley where all the trees were flattened. The ground was white as if it had snowed, but this was all ice from the avalanche.<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/langtang-copes-with-quake-and-covid/">Langtang copes with quake and Covid</a>, Kunda Dixit<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121152/636ce6669c7e80680e096769jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1750" height="1313"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Langtang was all gone, most of the people, livestock and houses had been blown away by the shock wave. The houses that remained were buried under 100m of ice and rock. There was no trace of my parent’s home on the western edge of the village. My father was 62, and had been grazing his yaks. We found him five days later near the river, resting with his arms under his head as if he was sleeping. His face was turned towards where the yaks would have been, his body frozen by the ice that fell from Langtang.My 65-year-old mother was inside the house, and we found her buried in the debris as the stone walls collapsed around her. Nearby were the bodies of two aunts, my younger sister and brother-in-law, a sister-in-law.There were too many deaths for funeral rituals, and we just recited our mantra as they were cremated. There were 175 local people who were killed that day, about 100 foreign tourists also perished, and there is no count of Nepali cooks, porters and support staff in the lodges. Our guess is that there were 225 of them.The avalanche also killed 27 herders and 400 yaks that provided milk for the cheese factory. The cheese-making plant was destroyed, along with all the equipment and the storeroom with 300 kg of cheese.Cheese-making was already in crisis in Langtang before the earthquake because the younger generation did not want to stay in the village, and if they did they were not interested in herding yaks.But the earthquake-avalanche had a silver lining: the Dairy Development Corporation in Kathmandu agreed to raise the buying price of yak milk to Rs120 per kg from Rs90. The Swiss came back to Langtang with compensation for herders to buy new yaks, and they put in Rs18 million to rebuild the factory with new equipment and even set up a dairy lab for quality control.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121152/636ce6699c7e80680e09676ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2000" height="1501"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121152/636ce66d9c7e80680e09676bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1692" height="1232">Langtang Cheese Production Centre after the earthquake destroyed it in 2015, and last year after it was rebuilt with new equipment, a storage facility, and a lab. Photos: GYALBU TAMANGIt is now feasible for farmers to take up yak herding again, and with tourism in the doldrums many have taken loans to expand their yak herds. Someone with 20 yaks who sells 50 litres of milk daily, for example, can now earn Rs6,000 a day. The cheese unit is collecting 300 litres of milk a day, and in the monsoon it can go up to 600 litres daily.Before the earthquake, we were manufacturing 4,500kg of cheese per year, as well as 2,000kg of butter and ghee--all of it was consumed locally. Last year during the pandemic, we sent 2,500kg to Kathmandu because there were no tourists here. If it was not for Covid, we would be back to full-scale production.The factory is now able to produce more cheese than before the disaster, the income helping raise our living standard. Lodge owners who have lost tourist income have started four new yak farms in the past year. Younger people are finding a future in cheese.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121152/636ce6719c7e80680e09676cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1750" height="1313"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121152/636ce6749c7e80680e09676djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1750" height="1313"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121152/636ce6789c7e80680e09676ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1750" height="1313">Photos: GYALBU TAMANGPeople in Langtang believe that the gods punished them for being greedy and selfish, competing with each other to build taller and bigger lodges. That is why the gods sent down the avalanche to wipe out the village, while leaving the rest of the valley intact. It may have been a warning for us to mend our ways, to be kind to each other, and protect nature.We had started recovering from the earthquake when the Covid crisis struck. Once more, the economy has slowed down and tourism has collapsed. Still, Langtang is being rebuilt for the day when tourists will return, and we hope that we can revive what was best about Langtang, a beyul where the gods dwell, and look benevolently at us earthly beings.As told to Kunda Dixit_______________________<h2>Father and Son</h2><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121152/636ce67b9c7e80680e09676fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125">Gyalbu Tamang (above) grew up accompanying his father, Pasang Norbu, to the alpine meadows in Langtang's Naya Kanga, Yala and Langsisha to graze yaks. His father was one of the pioneers who worked in the Langtang Cheese Production Centre that the Swiss helped set up in the 1950s.When Gyalbu turned 18, he got a job at the centre, and he had to get up at 4AM every morning to weigh the milk, collect firewood, get the fire going, and carry the cheese from higher up the mountains to the plant in Kyanjin. All this was familiar work for him, since he had helped his father as a boy. Swiss cheese experts Sepp Dubach and Werner Schulthess were convinced that cheese had a future in Nepal even though in the 1950s Nepalis did not really eat cheese, despite the fact that churpi was always popular.The Swiss were convinced that the best way to preserve the surplus yak milk production in places like Langtang was to convert it into cheese so it could be transported to market. They felt that yak cheese from Nepal would be as good as, if not better than, Emmentaler cheese back home. They trained Pasang Norbu in Swiss cheese-making, and he in turn passed it on to his son, Gyalbu.Pasang Norbu retired from the cheese factory, but not from the business of making cheese. Dairy farming was in his blood. So with his pension, he bought ten yaks and carried on doing what he did before, and selling the surplus milk to the cheese factory. In summer, father and son took the yaks up to graze on the slopes below Naya Kanga. It was the herbs in the grass that gave the milk, and the cheese, its unique flavour.On 25 April 2015, Pasang Norbu was grazing his yaks when the avalanche came down and swept him and his yaks away. Last week in Kyanjin, Gyalbu Tamang said: “My father taught me everything I know. I am just carrying on his work.”Read Also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/the-story-of-langtang-cheese/">The Story of Langtang Cheese</a>, Gyalbu Tamang

Langtang revives its cheese heritage

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121152/636ce5ea9c7e80680e096739jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"/><figcaption>Kyanjin, at 4,100 metres, is the highest settlement in the Langtang Valley. All Photos: KUNDA DIXIT</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121152/636ce5ed9c7e80680e09673ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="358"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121152/636ce5f09c7e80680e09673bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="412"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>After attending a night-long vigil for a dead relative, Karma Tamang was taking a nap in a room in his Panorama Guest House in Kyanjin, when he was woken up by violent shaking.He staggered out into the balcony, down the stairs and outside. All around him, stone houses were crumbling in clouds of dust. Then there was another more ominous roar from the cloud-covered slopes of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/five-years-after-avalanche-langtang-is-locked-down/">Langtang</a> Lirung directly above the town.“I knew it was an avalanche, but what we did not expect was a blast of wind so strong that it swept people and yaks off their feet and blew them away,” Tamang, 55, recalls.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4R419Ei6SiEHe ran back to the farthest room in his lodge while the dirty snow blew all around like a blizzard.“There were people with broken limbs, faces bleeding, we rescued whom we could find, and sheltered them in the lodge,” he says.Tamang then remembered that his family was in his other guest house in<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/the-courage-and-endurance-of-the-langtangpa/"> Langtang village</a>, and ran down the valley. He met hundreds of locals and tourists, some with grievous wounds, fleeing in the opposite direction.When he reached the Army base overlooking the village, there was no village, just blocks of black ice the size of houses that looked like giant rocks. There was no sign of his home, where he had left his wife, sister, son and two nephews that morning.“I had tried to wake up my son to bring him back with me to Kyanjin, but he wanted to sleep, so I had left him there,” recalls Tamang  his face contorted by grief even six years later. They found the bodies four days later, half-buried in ice and boulders, on the other side of the valley.No one knows for sure<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/langtang-destroyed-in-earthquake,2205"> how many people died</a> in Langtang’s co-seismic disaster just before noon on 25 April 2015, but its physical and emotional scars are still visible everywhere.There used to be up to 150 trekkers every day passing through Langtang village before the earthquake, the numbers had started picking up again and lodge owners were so optimistic that they were adding floors, and expanding restaurant space.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121152/636ce5f39c7e80680e09673cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="305"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>That construction spree is still going on as families who survived the disaster rebuild lodges near where the village once was, and in Kyanjin. Every day, there are dozens of helicopter flights ferrying iron rods, cement and plywood in slings up the valley from Syabru.“We had thought we had seen the worst of it after the earthquake, and took loans to rebuild our lodge, improve the facilities, but there have been no trekkers for a year now,” says Sumjo Tamang, 29, as she prepares tea in the immaculate, but deserted, dining area of her Snow Leopard Guest House.Sumjo’s husband was in Langtang village ploughing his potato field with two yaks when the avalanche came down. His body was found 200m away. Up in Kyanjin, Sumjo picked up her baby daughter, and ran out when the house started shaking--only to be blown away by the shock wave.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121152/636ce5f69c7e80680e09673djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1125" height="1500"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121152/636ce5f99c7e80680e09673ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1125" height="1500"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>She was knocked unconscious, and neighbours found her baby in a nearby field, unhurt. When she came to, Sumjo could not move her leg which was broken in three places. Her two other daughters also survived miraculously, and the family spent four days in a cave waiting for a helicopter rescue to Kathmandu. It took a year for her leg to heal so she could return to the ruins of her lodge in Kyanjin.“It has been difficult without my husband and with small children, but everyone helped and we were just starting to recover. Now, they say this Covid will go on for another few years, I don’t know how to carry on,” she says.Even if trekking revives, lodge owners here worry that there will be too much competition and rates will go down as lodge owners try to undercut each other. There are 40 tourist lodges in Kyanjin alone, in what used to be a tiny monastery village. Most are padlocked and their owners are away in Kathmandu, but others are using the pandemic to rebuild in anticipation that tourism will pick up again.Alone in his empty Panorama Guest House, Karma Tamang sits by a shrine in his dining area with photographs of his wife, son and nephews who perished in the disaster.“The earthquake was such a shocking tragedy that for a time, people here became spiritual and believed that it was divine retribution for being selfish, and for leaving the path of the dharma,” he says. “But six years later, everyone is now back to building bigger houses, they are heavily indebted, and Covid has killed tourism. There is a lot of anxiety in the people.”Here in Kyanjin, it was mostly the stone structures that came down in the 7.8 magnitude earthquake in 2015. And, as elsewhere in Central Nepal, everyone is rebuilding using reinforced concrete columns, presuming they are stronger. The steel and cement is all flown in by helicopter.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121152/636ce5fc9c7e80680e09673fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="559" height="278">On a ridge overlooking Kyanjin, the town’s Ward Chair Supa Tamang is supervising the installation of a Nepal Telecom mobile tower for which he lobbied two years in Kathmandu. As a Nepal Communist Party candidate, he was elected in the 2017 election, but is far away from the political intrigue and infighting of his party in Kathmandu.“We survived the earthquake, and we will survive Covid as well,” says Supa Tamang confidently. “The new lodges, better facilities and mobile connectivity prove that the people of Langtang are hoping for a better tomorrow.”Read Also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/the-story-of-langtang-cheese/">The Story of Langtang Cheese</a>, Gyalbu Tamang.

Langtang copes with quake and Covid

The story of Langtang cheese

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121120/636b8cf29c7e80680e06b324jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"/><figcaption>Hanging new prayer flags near the old chorten and the newer post-earthquake Memorial Wall in Langtang village on the final day of Losar celebrations in March 2020. Photo: AUSTIN LORD</figcaption></figure>Five years ago, I was in the Langtang Valley with my parents at the moment <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/langtang-destroyed-in-earthquake,2205" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">when the earth shook</a>. The earthquake released a massive, roiling avalanche weighing over twelve million tons of material from the slopes of Langtang Lirung, carrying half the force of an atomic bomb. The earthquake brought <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/langtang-before-after-earthquake-nepal" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">loss beyond words or comprehension</a>, and even now, so much remains unspeakable and unknowable. Surviving those unstable moments and all that followed has changed my life and my view of this world, forever.<a style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/five-years-after-avalanche-langtang-is-locked-down/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Five years after the avalanche</a>, Langtang is locked downSince that day, I have returned to Langtang again and again, and I have remained engaged with <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/%20Langtang-rising-after-april-25-earthquake,2610" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">post-earthquake recovery</a> and the Langtangpa community <a href="https://digitalcommons.macalester.edu/himalaya/vol37/iss2/12/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">in a variety of ways</a>. It has been an immeasurable privilege to see and feel <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Australian%20-researchers-after-nepal-earthquake%20,3393" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Langtang come back to life</a>. The Langtangpa have a great deal to teach us about strength, courage, resilience, endurance, and the ways we might carve out places for ourselves in a world full of uncertainties.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121120/636b8cf59c7e80680e06b325jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="252" height="128">Disasters can shift, warp, and fold our sense of time in complex and unexpected ways. Anniversaries and other moments of mutual reflection, ceremony, or commemoration can help us mark time and reorient ourselves in the wake of disaster. In regathering ourselves, we might attempt to restore some kind of temporal sovereignty, if only for a moment, or perhaps give ourselves over to the uneven flows of time.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121120/636b8cf79c7e80680e06b326jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption>Earthquake survivors waiting to be evacuated in Ghodatabela on 26 April 2015. Photo: AUSTIN LORD</figcaption></figure>Five years after the 25 April earthquake, fundamental questions about the time of disaster persist and recur. How and when does a disaster truly conclude, and for whom? In what ways do we navigate the tangled temporalities that shape the aftermath of disaster, or the multiple pasts of our present moment?As all Nepalis know, we do not all reckon or account for time in the same ways. And so, the ‘anniversary’ of the earthquake is itself is referred to as ‘April 25’, ‘Baisakh 12’  and ‘Bö da sumbatsebadün’ in the Gregorian, Nepali, and Tibetan calendars. This time around, each date falls on a different day, and so the anniversary is (perhaps, rightfully) distributed over an entire week.<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/langtang-before-after-earthquake-nepal" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Langtang lament</a><a style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/the-reincarnation-of-a-holy-valley/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">The Reincarnation of a holy valley</a>, Clara BullockThe following reflection – written based on dozens of conversations and interviews with my Langtangpa friends over the years – retraces some of the moments and feelings that have gathered around each of earthquake anniversaries in the Langtang Valley over the past five years:<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121120/636b8cfb9c7e80680e06b327jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption>Langtangpas and foreigners gather at the edge of the avalanche zone to commemorate the first anniversary of the 2015 Nepal earthquake. April 25, 2016. Photo: AUSTIN LORD</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121120/636b8cfe9c7e80680e06b328jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption>The lamas of Langtang lead the ceremonies for the April 25 observation of the earthquake anniversary in Langtang. April 25, 2016. Photo: AUSTIN LORD</figcaption></figure>1. Awash in uncertainty and emotion, without homes, the people of Langtang gathered. Most of them had only recently returned to the valley, disoriented and struggling to begin again. Foreigners came from around the world -- those who had lost their family members, survivors, and other supporters -- bringing a feeling of solidarity and care. A tangle of people and torn lives, gathered in the lap of the mountain, at the edge of the scar the avalanche created in the landscape. On the morning of 25 April, we gathered at the foot of the avalanche, in front of a recently built mani wall inscribed with the names of the deceased and the phrase ‘forever in our hearts’ written in the eleven languages. Every nerve was raw. A moment of silence at 11:56 AM, and then twelve minutes to read all the names of the dead, as I was asked to do.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121120/636b8d019c7e80680e06b329jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="427"><figcaption>Inside Langtang Gompa the night before the earthquake. April 24, 2015. Photo: AUSTIN LORD</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121120/636b8d049c7e80680e06b32ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="427"><figcaption>Destroyed Langtang Gompa and Tibetan Buddhist Texts in November 2015. Photo: AUSTIN LORD</figcaption></figure>A video projection of old Langtangpa songs and photographs. Labourers walked by carrying building materials. Both of the gompas in the Langtang Valley had been destroyed, and there was no place to conduct a puja on the earthquake anniversary. A few days earlier, on April 13, the Langtangpas had gathered for a puja that Chökyi Nyima Rinpoche conducted in a field above the village. On the same day, a few Langtangpas also gathered for prayers at the Yellow Gompa in Kathmandu one last time. One turn around the sun, and many of us were still broken. A year of grief and absence, followed by gathering and presence. Time flowing around our varied and imperfect attempts at beginning.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121120/636b8d089c7e80680e06b32bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="960" height="538"><figcaption>Ceremonies for the 2nd earthquake anniversary inside the newly built community centre in Langtang village. May 2, 2017. Photo: Ayako Sadakane.</figcaption></figure>2. Small houses, a community center, a larger gathering of Langtangpa. “We had made some progress rebuilding, but it was still a very emotional time.” Chökyi Nyima Rinpoche came to Langtang again on the Tibetan earthquake anniversary and conducted a serkhim puja for the protection of the village. “This puja gave people some mental support, it helped us deal with all the tension.” Rinpoche also conducted a puja at Seto Gompa in Bouddha that day, since there was still no gompa in Langtang. Tearful speeches in the community centre, bittersweet reflections on change. A large prayer wheel spun inside the recently built Memorial Stupa, sending prayers to the heavens for all the deceased in their new lives. The herders moved more confidently this year, as a Japanese NGO had helped them buy zomos to replace some of the animals that had died during the disaster. The prayer flags of the prior year were taken down and burned, new flags hung. The rhythms of the valley were slowly layering onto each other again.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121120/636b8d0a9c7e80680e06b32cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="402"><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121120/636b8d0f9c7e80680e06b32djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="359"><figcaption>Ceremonies for the third anniversary of the earthquake in the newly rebuilt monastery at Kyangjin Gompa in April 22, 2018. Photo: Ayako Sadakane.</figcaption></figure>3. The three-year period of collective mourning came to an official and imperfect end. The gompa at Kyangjin had just been rebuilt, Chökyi Nyima Rinpoche came again to lead the ceremonies in this beautiful new space. Most of the official work of reconstruction had been completed, and the cheese factory had also been rebuilt, so people finally felt some sense of material comfort. The night after the puja ceremonies, some people were singing, for the first time since the earthquake. A few days later, Drukpa Rinpoche, who had lived here earlier in his life and also in one of his past lives, returned for the first time in many years. After these ceremonies, many people said that they could see that everyone’s hearts were lighter, there was a little more hope. A few months later in July, the Langtangpa gathered in Kyangjin Gompa, some excitedly and some tentatively, for the Dukpa Tse Shi, the first major festival celebration since the earthquake. It was a powerful moment of transition and rejuvenation, one which many Langtangpa referred to as “a time for singing again.”<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121120/636b8d129c7e80680e06b32ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption>Kyangjin Gompa Under Construction in July 2017. Photo: AUSTIN LORD</figcaption></figure>4. A different kind of ceremony, and a return to more conventional ritual rhythms. The community organised a tsok puja and a seven-day reading of the Kangyur (a set of one-hundred and eight texts considered a core part of the Buddhist canon). There was laughing and dancing in the evenings when the ritual labour was done. There were more tourists in the valley. Carefully, the Langtangpa continued the slow work of reweaving their lives back into more familiar tempos. Sometime a few weeks later, the last of the compacted ice still remaining in the avalanche zone finally melted. We celebrated Dukpa Tse Shi again during the summer, and this time some of the archery competitions were held. Everyone said this year’s festival was better than the last, but also that the festivals of the coming year would be even better, like they were before the earthquake.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121120/636b8d159c7e80680e06b32fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1440" height="900"><figcaption>An international group of people who lost loved ones in Langtang, foreign survivors, and Langtangpas gather online at 11:56 AM NST on April 25 2020. Photo: Austin Lord</figcaption></figure>5 . The time of the virus, a kind of bardo all its own. On 9 March almost all of the Langtangpa gathered in Langtang village for a public celebration of the final day of Lhosar, for the first time since the earthquake. A large puja was planned for the 25 April with Rabjam Rinpoche and many other high lamas, but it had to be cancelled due to the COVID-19 pandemic. “We were hoping that this would be the last collective puja for the earthquake anniversary.” A large group of foreign mourners and survivors, as well as some Langtangpa – some of who had cancelled their plans to return to Langtang for this anniversary – gathered virtually at 11:56AM on 25 April. We read the names of the dead, tried to honor the memories of those who died, and reflected on time gone by – sharing some of ourselves again. People called each other throughout the week, seeking connection across social and physical distance. Meanwhile, the lamas of Langtang began preparations for their own puja on the anniversary according to the Tibetan calendar next week. At the time of writing, they did not yet know how many Langtangpa community members would be able to attend given the ‘lockdown’. “We hope that we will be able to host the Rinpoches later this year, on an auspicious date, or maybe on the sixth-year anniversary,” they said. “Whenever we are able to do this puja, then that will be the last ceremony for the earthquake, maybe... possibly.”<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121120/636b8d199c7e80680e06b330jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption>Langtang Avalanche Zone. November 2015. Photo: AUSTIN LORD</figcaption></figure>The Langtangpa, like many of us, are both looking backward and looking forward. Amid the confusion and liminality of the pandemic, there are some silver linings. Many of the children and youth of Langtang are back at home, reconnecting to their place, speaking their mother tongue. In the past few weeks, many people in Langtang have again begun planting fields that have lain fallow since the earthquake. Looking out at these fields and the children working alongside their parents, some people are saying: “पहिले जस्तै लाग्छ” (it feels like before).In Langtang, as elsewhere, the temporalities of disaster and aftermath are woven together with long-term processes of social and intergenerational change, dreams of progress, memories of fading pasts, and the cycle of births and deaths. The wind comes. Rivers and glaciers carve through mountains forever rising and falling apart. Pasts and futures flow together and eddy around us, today and every day.Austin Lord is a PhD Candidate in the Department of Anthropology at Cornell University and a Fulbright-Hays DDRA Fellow who conducted his dissertation research in Nepal in 2019-2020. He would like to thank all of his friends and sources in the Langtangpa community who helped him piece together this narrative, for sharing their experiences, their words, and their time.

The courage and endurance of the Langtangpa

<figure><img width="960" height="720" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121116/636b8c969c7e80680e06b308jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>The Dorje Bakery and Coffee Shop in Kyangjin Gumba after it was rebuilt following the earthquake and avalanche in 2015. </figcaption></figure>Minutes before noon on 25 April 2015, the earth rattled and shook. But then another thunderous sound approached from above. A whole section of the icefield below the summit of Mt Langtang Lirung had been shaken loose by the quake, and it fell on the glacier, bulldozing it over a cliff to the village below. <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/%20Langtang-rising-after-april-25-earthquake,2610" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/%2520Langtang-rising-after-april-25-earthquake,2610&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1587700922068000&amp;usg=AFQjCNEu1Jy9m_bQSZOvNrIGOTm_Pm_feA">Langtang was obliterated and buried</a>. A shock wave preceded the avalanche and blew everything away to the other side of the valley where trees lay flattened as if hit by a nuclear explosion. Nearly <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/langtang-destroyed-in-earthquake,2205" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/langtang-destroyed-in-earthquake,2205&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1587700922068000&amp;usg=AFQjCNFHWWVPI6kgIUv5OvpdiYCAoXjWsw">300 people were killed in the disaster</a>, half of them Langtangpa. The survivors were airlifted to the Yellow Gumba monastery in Kathmandu, and some of them got trekking guide and lodge management training at the Nepal Academy of Tourism and Hospitality Management and the women were trained in baking and making hand-knitted woolen products.On the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/langtang-before-after-earthquake-nepal" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/langtang-before-after-earthquake-nepal&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1587700922069000&amp;usg=AFQjCNFKty3lUyWdxf3xTkQV2WzpQg9zaw">fifth anniversary of the disaster</a> this week, Nepali Times caught up with some of the survivors of the disaster.  <h2>Lhakpa Tamang Jangba</h2> <img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121116/636b8c999c7e80680e06b309jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="900" height="600">I never thought I would be a baker. Once, when I was with my father in Kathmandu for his medical checkup, he said he wanted to start a bakery in Langtang. I bought him all the equipment, but a few days later he died. I wanted to turn his unfulfilled dream into reality and learnt to bake.Initially, the internet recipes I relied on failed. A trekker in my lodge even said:This is the most horrible chocolate cake I have ever tasted. But I kept trying. Another guest helped me bake properly, and brew coffee.When the earthquake hit, I was having coffee at the lodge. The guests ran out. Then I heard the roar of the avalanche coming down from Langtang Lirung. I saw my kitchen collapse in front of my eyes, and the hotel crumbled. We hid in a corner, and watched this huge cloud of snow and dust cover Kyanjing Gumba. It was hard to breathe.The avalanche stopped, but rocks kept falling. People were crying. The helicopters finally came we evacuated injured tourists and neighbours. I was rescued on the fourth day, and when I met my family who was in Kathmandu, we held each other and cried. We had become homeless refugees in our own country.But the young Langtangpa in Kathmandu started a reconstruction committee in a Swayambhu monastery where the head Lama gave us permission to stay as long as we needed. We focused on fundraising because we knew that the government’s Rs300,000 government grant would not go far.It has been five years, and my Dorje Bakery Café and Coffee Center named after my late father has been rebuilt. We had revived tourism, and life was going back to normal when this virus happened. It has destroyed our livelihood once again. We do not know now this will end, but we survived the earthquake and we will overcome this crisis too. There will be more earthquakes and disasters, but future generations need to know how we did not give up hope even when everything was destroyed. <h2>Tsering Choephel Lama</h2> When the earthquake struck, I was living in Swayambhu. We spent a few nights in an empty field because of the aftershocks, but my mind was in Langtang. My village had been wiped off the map by a huge avalanche triggered by the earthquake. I was in shock.  After the Langtangpa were airlifted to Kathmandu we moved to the Yellow Gumba where I volunteered in the camp -- helping to keep it clean, cooking and taking care of those who had been injured. The Langtangpa were not used to the heat, and my fear was they would fall sick. We therefore tried to keep the camp as clean as possible.  <img width="640" height="800" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121116/636b8c9c9c7e80680e06b30ajpeg.jpg" alt="">Some of the volunteers advised me to go to the United States to study, and that is where I am now. Life in America is very different, I am now a biomedicine undergrad. At the moment school is closed because of the COVID-19, but I want to finish my studies and work in the medical field so I can be useful for my people in Langtang.  <img width="1440" height="1440" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121116/636b8c9f9c7e80680e06b30bjpeg.jpg" alt=""><h2><a href="https://www.facebook.com/jangbu.tamang.1" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.facebook.com/jangbu.tamang.1&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1587700922069000&amp;usg=AFQjCNFffjY0FpDX-yBiDJm6UqI-2IU8Cw">Tsering Jangbu Changnyempa</a></h2> When the earthquake stuck, I was doing my +2 college in Kathmandu. My final board exam got shifted because of the earthquake, and I stayed at the shelter in Yellow Gumba. I got my guide license during my stay at the monastery and enrolled in a Bachelor in Travel and Tourism Management. I worked with an organisation called Langtang 7221, and travelled to Italy to raise funds for Langtang and tell Italians about Nepal. Apart from several fundraising dinners, I also took a two week pizza-making course. I opened Sunrise Guest House in Kyanjin Gumba in 2017, and I run the place during college break. Business was picking up when the coronavirus lockdown hit us. I think the last five years has turned me from a boy into a man. I have learnt and experienced a lot, and got to know the world better. I will keep moving ahead positively, be a decent person, and help my society and Nepal.  <figure><img width="2592" height="1728" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121116/636b8ca29c7e80680e06b30cjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Tsering Choephel Lama​ and Kartok Lama (at left) in a class on hospitality together after the 2015 earthquake.</figcaption></figure><h2>Kartok Lama</h2> Five years after the earthquake, we had finally started a new life, tourism was gradually picking up again. We had planned to commemorate the 5th anniversary this week with blessings from His Holiness <a href="https://tseringpaldron.wordpress.com/teachers/h-e-shechen-rabjam-rinpoche/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://tseringpaldron.wordpress.com/teachers/h-e-shechen-rabjam-rinpoche/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1587700922069000&amp;usg=AFQjCNGwUlLB1fK5YQY_gYx_TS6JQBmu_w">Kyabje Shechen Rabjam Rinpoche, but it had to be postponed  due to COVID-19. We had great hopes for Visit Nepal 2020, but the lockdown has wrecked tourism once again in Langtang. This uncertainty has most of us deeply worried. </a>The village is not the same as before the earthquake, and will never be. But we have preserved our culture and some of us have gone back to farming, and livestock rearing for the cheese factory.  <img width="720" height="960" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121116/636b8ca59c7e80680e06b30djpeg.jpg" alt="">The oldest monastery in Langtang was destroyed by the earthquake, but it was rebuilt after two years with support from the Japanese, and two other shrines are being reconstructed. Restarting our new life in Langtang was difficult. The virus has made it tougher. But we did not lose hope then, and we will not lose hope now.

Five years after avalanche, Langtang is locked down

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101156/636b79d39c7e80680e064724jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="1050"/><figcaption>Chitlang, Makwanpur. Photo: KUNDA DIXIT</figcaption></figure>While humans all over the planet are being challenged by the COVID-19 pandemic, it has given nature everywhere a respite.Carbon emissions have dipped, there is almost no carbon monoxide in the air over large parts of India and China because vehicles are off the roads, NOx and sulphur dioxide concentrations in the air have dropped. The concentration of particulate matter like soot given off by industries and diesel trucks have also decreased, improving air quality over Asia’s most-polluted cities.Here in Nepal, Mt Everest and Himalayan peaks have got a much-needed respite after the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepals-economy-already-weak-takes-direct-hit/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">government cancelled all expeditions and treks from the mountains for the spring climbing season</a>. There has been an <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/most-days-its-not-so-crowded-on-mt-everest/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">international uproar last year after photos of a traffic jam</a> on the summit ridge of Mt Everest went viral. Garbage and corpses on the mountain have gotten a lot of media attention.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101156/636b79d69c7e80680e064725jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="960" height="720"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The sunny spring sky in Kathmandu was brilliantly clear on Tuesday, the first day of a week-long nationwide lockdown. With no traffic, and flights all grounded, there is no noise pollution in the street or the sky.But the happiest must be wild animals in Nepal’s national parks, including those popular with tourists like Chitwan, Bardia, Langtang and Shivapuri-Nagarjun, where visitors have not been allowed since Sunday.After the government closed schools and offices last week, Kathmandu’s residents had started arriving at Shivapuri and Chitwan by the busloads for picnics during weekend, prompting park officials to close entry on Monday.“We had to close the parks because there was an increase in visitor numbers, but with the announcement of the nationwide lockdown from Tuesday, visitors will not be coming anyway,” said chief of Bardia National park Ananath Baral.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101156/636b79d99c7e80680e064726jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>On Sunday, there were more than 400 visitors -- about four times the daily average -- at Shivapuri-Nagarjun, the national park on Kathmandu Valley’s northern and western rim.Conservationists say the drop in human activity will be a relief to the park’s wildlife, since any extra noise can disturb their habitat and movement. Naturalist Mukesh Chalise recalls how there was an increase in wildlife in <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepals-economy-already-weak-takes-direct-hit/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Langtang National Park </a>after trekkers stopped coming due to the 2015 earthquake.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/between-existence-and-extinction-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Between existence and extinction in Nepal</a>, Sonia Awale“It used to be difficult to see resident fauna and birds, now there are herds and flocks of them out in the open in Langtang,” Chalise says.Due to its terrain and topographic range, Nepal has some of the richest biodiversity in a country with such a small area. There are 876 species of birds, 185 species of mammals and 651 species of butterflies in Nepal, some of them are only found here and nowhere else. National parks and protected areas cover 27% of Nepal’s area.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101156/636b79dc9c7e80680e064727jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="250" height="166"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>There has been a big increase in park visitors in the past few years. Nepal’s national parks and conservation areas registered 510,000 foreign visitors five years ago, and this grew to 701,000 last year.  There is no count of the number of Nepali visitors, and if this is added it would take the numbers to nearly 1.5 million per year.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nature-without-borders/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nature without borders</a>, Sewa BhattaraiThere has also been little attempt to regulate the entry of sightseeing vehicles into national parks. In Chitwan alone, the national park issued 35 jeep permits every day for jungle safari into the core area. Bardia issued 22 jeep permits per day, with each vehicle carrying 10-14 visitors. Besides this, both Chitwan and Bardia also issue dozens of elephant safari permits.All this has now come to a halt, and has eliminated human disturbance. Chalise says this will allow wild animals and birds to be left alone for a while which will be good for nature to rebound.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101156/636b79dd9c7e80680e064728jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>“We had already started seeing rhinos interacting more and more with humans, and acting tame. It is very dangerous for the rhino to lose its fear of humans because this may<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/what-drives-wildlife-poaching/" target="_blank" rel="noopener"> expose them to poachers</a>,” adds Chalise, who says there should be a permanent ban on human entry into national parks. Tourists should be allowed only into the buffer zone.Sindhu Dhungana at the Ministry of Forests and Environment, however, says that if local people do not see any advantage of eco-tourism they may not help in conservation, and visitors should be allowed but in a regulated numbers.“The main criteria should be how much <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/what-drives-wildlife-poaching/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">human activity is disturbing wildlife</a>, and if it is serious numbers should be regulated,” Dhungana explains.Lessening human entry into national parks will also prevent the spread of human diseases like tuberculosis to rhinos and elephants, and also stop viruses from wild animals infecting humans.Chalise also warns that the nationals parks should be vigilant about <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/in-conservation-nepal-is-not-out-of-the-woods-yet/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">increased activity of poachers </a>taking advantage of the national shutdown to hunt wild animals either for meat or tusks, horns and pelts.

Coronavirus shutdown gives Nepal’s nature a respite

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108131136/636a4e149c7e80680e04fc98jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2400" height="1621"/><figcaption>PHOTO: JOANNA VAN GRUISEN</figcaption></figure>After walking to Jomsom in 1974, my next foray was to Langtang. I went better prepared this time, remembering to bring a hat and wear socks inside my humble canvas shoes.The path was precipitous, and packed by centuries of human and animal footprints. It wound through the towering forests of Nepal’s mid-mountains, taking detours into the hillside for stony stream crossings and traversing upwards into the thinning air with tantalising glimpses of rocky outcrops and soaring white peaks.In late spring, the woods were heavy with red rhododendrons, white daphne and yellow bamboo. The pervasive calls of Himalayan ravens and crows, kag, haunted the landscape. Tangled creepers and buttressed tree roots reminiscent of Tolkien’s Hobbit sent my mind skidding off into a trekkers’ trance, a flight of fancy involving mythical monsters and waning moons.But mostly I was just concentrating on putting one foot in front of another, and gasping for air.“These people must be stupid,” observed Pertemba, as we passed more men bent under the weight of bulky loads secured by a woven canvas strap across their foreheads, driving their shaggy ponies ahead of them down the trail. “Why don’t they use the horses to carry those sacks of grain?”He shook his head, smiling a wide Sherpa smile, dark eyes shining beneath a red baseball cap. Stones dislodged by the horses’ hooves spun noisily and invisibly into the void below, the sound ricocheting across the valley walls. The pungent steam of pony droppings mingled with the scent of warm pine needles and the sound of my laboured breath.It was late that afternoon that I encountered the red panda. It was definitely an encounter, not just any old sighting. Pertemba had gone ahead up the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Langtang_National_Park">Langtang Valley</a> to find us a spot for the night, so I was wandering alone on a friendly stretch of hillside, the last of the fading sunlight filtering through the trees. Startled by a rustle beside the trail, I first noticed a rich orange coat and furry banded tail amidst the dead leaves of the forest floor, followed by a white snout, black nose, striped face and a pair of curious beady eyes. A current of communication passed between us, a taut pause, and he flashed away into the undergrowth.Pertemba and the locals had no idea. It took me some time to identify the creature as a <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/red-panda-conservation-nepal,1668">red panda</a>, as they are rare, highly threatened and seldom seen in the wild.Even today, wildlife viewing and bird watching in Nepal’s mountain circuits remain a lost opportunity for tourism. There is little overlap between the knowledgeable naturalists of the Tarai national parks and the sherpas (with a small ‘s) who guide our 200,000 or so trekkers with such world-renown capability.Trek guides are adept at getting their clients safely through the day, avoiding altitude sickness, cheerfully cajoling up the inevitable steep climbs, and delivering them in one piece to a lodge or teahouse for the night. On more un-serviced trails, they are super-skilled at setting up camp, wrestling with tents, packing sleeping bags and producing elaborate meals in the middle of nowhere.But few of Nepal’s 16,000 licensed trekking guides know the names of the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/kundadixit/2018/02/07/no-tiger-no-mountain/">birds</a>, animals, <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/years-of-botanical-art,3222">plants and trees</a> along the route, striding past a whole dimension of potential enchantment for their clients.  The opportunity to advocate for conservation, and explain changing lifestyles forged by modern life and climate change, is lost too.Circling eagles and vultures, flashes of woodland birds, and dozens of species of fascinating ferns, mosses and trees are passed unnoticed and unremarked. Trek itineraries disregard adjustments to maximise sightings of the hidden natural world. During my years of addiction to Himalayan trekking, flogging high and low, east and west, that red panda was the first of some of my most intense and unforgettable moments.Enduring an icy January, my brother Nick and I were braving a winter trek high in the Sagarmatha region. Iridescent pheasants and wheeling flocks of doves foraged in the naked fields, and long-tailed magpies scolded us for our intrusion. We spotted shaggy tahr and skittish musk deer driven to lower altitudes by snow and cold.Late one bright night, the eerie call of wolves dragged us from our warm sleeping bags, alerted by the shouts of villagers protecting their stone-corralled yaks. In the full moonlight, I can still see that black outline of two <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/crying-wolf/">Himalayan wolves</a> racing across a white snowfield high above the grey stone houses of Pheriche.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108131136/636a4e189c7e80680e04fc99jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="844"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Snow leopards lend their ethereal beauty and spiritual mystery to the high Himalaya, a shadowy powerful presence lurking in undisturbed valleys, though sightings are a precious few. Ghana Shyam Gurung is the WWF network’s global champion for this elusive endangered cat, working with the government on research efforts that ensure Nepal’s snow leopard populations are flourishing, by tracking four individuals in Kangchenjunga to better understand their habits. The closest I came was a glimpse of a pair of snow leopards on a distant rock-strewn ridge during a 2008 trek to Mustang – or so the excited local horsemen assured us.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108131136/636a4e1c9c7e80680e04fc9ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1440" height="1080"><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108131136/636a4e1f9c7e80680e04fc9bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1440" height="906"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/studying-snow-leopards-in-Nepal">Snow leopards</a> are never going to be a sure thing for mountain visitors, but viewing red pandas and even wolves could become an exciting feature of Himalayan tourism as their numbers recover, boosting the income of mountain village guides and adding new iconic wildlife attractions to our #VNY2020 lexicon.

Lisa Choegyal

Ever gone wildlife trekking in Nepal?

<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107161116/636921fb9c7e80680e03a100jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="438"/><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107161116/636921fd9c7e80680e03a101jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="436"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107161116/636922009c7e80680e03a102jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="438"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107161116/636922039c7e80680e03a103jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="443">The blue sky was clear and early afternoon sunlight bounced off the glaciers, gullies and rock walls of the Langtang peaks, but the helicopter captain was keen to leave. He was concerned about the effects of altitude after several hours filming in the high meadow above Kyangjin Gompa. I could see the Hollywood team were groggy, hauling heavy camera equipment in the thin Himalayan air, and I was beginning to feel lightheaded myself.Director Julien Temple called to us from across the hill: “Let’s just try one more time with the flute players and local kids, but without the yaks and ponies.” Laxman had a headache and his back hurt from carrying Rinchen - the young star - up and down the ridge on his shoulders, simulating the swaying movements of an elephant against the mountain backdrop.Dazed with fatigue and breathless, the film crew once more realigned their gear, the local extras were ushered into position, silver reflectors were repositioned, the clap-board snapped action, Rinchen set off regal on his fake elephant, and the cameras rolled for the last time that day.I looked around as we quickly stowed the paraphernalia, thanked Thiley Lama, our Langtang fixer, and his friends, waved to the yak handlers and horsemen, and piled back into the big Russian chopper. We took off slowly, the rotors roaring and prayer flags flailing, as the squat stone monastery and small cluster of flat-roofed houses receded beneath us, dwarfed by the rampart of towering white peaks protecting the Langtang Valley. Soaring south, it took only a few minutes skimming above the hilltops back home to Kathmandu, but it seemed like another world.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107161116/636922069c7e80680e03a104jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1075" height="696"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>It was spring 1994 and we were filming one of Asia’s first music videos – the MTV generation was still in its infancy. The Eyes of Truth, a track from Enigma’s Cross of Changesalbum, is a haunting electronic melody of buzzing bees, rhythmic chanting and wailing Mongolian shepherdesses. Julien Temple was amongs the first to pioneer the music video genre, his boyish looks belying a background with giants including David Bowie, The Rolling Stones and Sex Pistols.Read also:  <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/sun-striped-shadows/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Sun striped shadows</a>, Lisa Choegyal<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/the-cantankerous-conservationist/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The Cantankerous Conservationist</a>, Lisa ChoegyalInspired by Buddhist iconography and the Valley stupas’ all-seeing eyes, Temple and his wife Amanda had written a prescient mini-saga about an abandoned boy brought up by elephants, then driven into an unknown world by environmental destruction, where he would be hailed prince of truth, before retreating back into the jungle with his pachyderm dependents. “The Eyes of Truth are always watching you.” They asked me to arrange the film permit and logistics, as complex as any full-length feature, and to find the main character – a spiritual young boy with a generic Asian-Western look who was comfortable around elephants. That was easy. Both my sons Sangjay and Rinchen were at the British School in Kathmandu, and Malcolm McDougal was also put forward as a candidate – all boys blessed with an upbringing amongst the Tiger Tops elephant camps in Chitwan and Bardia. Four-year-old Rinchen, whose acclaimed Cowardly Lion in the kindergarten Wizard of Oz production had sparked acting aspirations, was thrilled to be selected. What could be better than to take two weeks off school, hang out with elephants, and be paid for it?<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107161116/636922089c7e80680e03a105jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="523" height="815"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The pristine air quality and unbuilt vistas of Kathmandu Valley of the early 1990s enabled us to select locations and deliver The Eyes of Truth storyboard as originally envisaged in Julien and Amanda’s script. Our film support team, fresh from months working on Little Buddha, swung into action. For the ten-day shoot, hundreds of skilled Newari artistes, Nepali musicians and Valley villagers were dressed and rehearsed, domestic elephants from Chitwan and Kathmandu were booked and briefed, and Rinchen’s costumes and jewelled headdresses were designed and prepared.“I hope they can’t see up my sarong.” Little Rinchen clambered up Sita Kali’s trunk, hanging onto her patient elephant ears. My favourite moment follows the honey hunter opening sequence, when the camera finds Rinchen, angelically asleep amidst falling leaves, lying on Sita Kali’s massive body, resting supine on the forest floor. Thankfully her mahout driver and my boys’ favourite jungle friend, Kale, was never far away off screen, controlling her with quiet voice commands. A pretty wife and baby from the Tiger Tops elephant camp were engaged for the Moses scene, during which the child is rescued from his floating cradle by kind elephant carers – the buoyancy of the woven basket caused us lots of problems.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107161116/6369220a9c7e80680e03a106jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="523" height="815"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/so-far-so-good/the-kathmandu-crowd/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The Kathmandu Crowd</a>, Lisa Choegyal<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/past-everest-anniversaries/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Past Everest Anniversaries</a>, Lisa ChoegyalAt Bodnath, where Rinchen was filmed, enthroned on his zoo elephant dressed in silk and gold, pilgrims prostrated and made offerings, mistaking him for a real Rinpoche. Bungamati villagers showered him with flower petals thrown from their upper windows, echoing a scene with Keanu Reeves in Little Buddha. At Bhaktapur, the clashing cymbals, drums and dancers brought the Darbar Square to a standstill, and a lovely sequence beside the river chaityasat Gokarna Mahadev was left on the cutting room floor.On the last day of 4AM starts with loyal Laxman in attendance. After long hours of make-up, and hours as the centre of attention with his crew of new admirers, Rinchen descended reluctantly from his elephant and, looking around for Julien, asked: “And now, where’s my money?”Not only did The Eyes of Truth music video top the Asian charts for weeks, the poignant tune, familiar even today, became a Youtube sensation viewed by millions. We have used it at countless travel conferences and trade shows as a subtle sell to promote the variety and scenic splendour of Nepal – its succinct five-minute span perfectly captures the essence of Nepal’s natural, cultural and adventure appeal.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b8ri14rw32c

The Eyes of Truth

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107101156/6368d69d9c7e80680e031495jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="1050"/><figcaption>Discarded PET bottles trucked in to Pokhara from as far away as Langtang National park.</figcaption></figure>When Daniel Burgi first came to Nepal to work for United Mission to Nepal’s hydropower projects, he travelled all over Nepal and decided to dedicate his life for the education of Nepali children.He set up the non-profit group, Himalayan Life Nepal and to pay for its work, Burgi and Nepali colleague Chanman Srimal spent most of their time fundraising from donors. There must be a self-sustaining way to pay for a children’s charity, they thought.What could be a social entrepreneurship activity that could raise money for children? At first they thought of making chemical-free soaps for Pokhara’s hotels, and while planning for it noticed mountains of plastic waste piled high along streets in the scenic city.Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=6124&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Industrial scale litter</a>, Mukesh Pokhrel<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=6130&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Plastic money</a>, Samuel Johns<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107101156/6368d6a19c7e80680e031496jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="934"><figcaption>Workers sort the bottles, selecting transparent ones.</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107101156/6368d6a49c7e80680e031497jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="934"><figcaption>Labels and caps are removed. Coloured bottles are sold to other recyclers.</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107101156/6368d6a79c7e80680e031498jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="934"><figcaption>Bottles are machine-shredded into flakes to be processed into plastic pellets.</figcaption></figure>Six years ago, no one had really thought you could make money <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/recycle-reuse-reduce-garbage-kathmandu,1279" target="_blank" rel="noopener">recycling plastic</a>. But Burgi and Srimal came up with a feasible plan and registered Himalayan Life Plastic Pvt Ltd in the Pokhara Industrial Estate with an initial investment of Rs60 million.The factory now employs 65 workers to buy discarded PET bottles collected from Kathmandu, Pokhara, Syangja, Tanahu and Langtang (see story, above) and recycle them into pellets for reuse.The business model is quite simple: discarded transparent PET bottles are bought for Rs35 per kg, processed into pellets and sold to other plastic industries for reuse at Rs115 per kg, which is much cheaper than the raw material they import for Rs200 per kg of pellets.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107101156/6368d6aa9c7e80680e031499jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="1050"><figcaption>The Chinese-made machines can recycle 3,000 bottles in every 8-hour shift.</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107101156/6368d6ad9c7e80680e03149ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="1050"><figcaption>Pellets are weighed and filled into sacks before dispatch to customers all over Nepal.</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107101156/6368d6b09c7e80680e03149bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="1050"><figcaption>Sacks of pellets ready for transport from Himalayan Life in Pokhara.</figcaption></figure>“Using recycled pellets means there is less plastic garbage in the environment, plastic industries have cheaper raw materials, and it reduces Nepal’s import bill,” says manager Prabhat Pratik of Himalayan Life.Ironically, one of the biggest problem is competition from Indian recycling companies who source plastic trash from Nepal in bulk and have the advantage of an economy of scale.There is criticism that the plastic is being recycled to make other plastic, but that overlooks the fact that the environment is rid of plastic trash. Pratik calls this "upcycling, not recycling".Ashok Sapkota of Green Society Nepal agrees: “Ventures like these need government support. They clean up the environment, reduce the import bill, create employment, pay taxes, and still make a profit that they plough into children’s welfare.”<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107101156/6368d6b39c7e80680e03149cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="640">Read also:<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/recycle-reuse-reduce-garbage-kathmandu,1279" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Recycle, reuse, reduce</a>,  Donatella Lorch<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/making-money-from-garbage-in-kathmandu,2055" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Rupees from rubbish</a>,  Sahina Shresthahttps://youtu.be/VP-vD3sJbXU

Virtuous cycle

Nepal’s only international aviation gateway, at Kathmandu airport, will cut night-time operation hours to allow construction of taxiways, and airlines have been told to curtail flights. This is expected to lead to more than normal chaos during the height of peak autumn and spring tourist seasons at an airport that is congested even at the best of times. The airport will close from 10PM to 8AM from 8 November-31 March 2025. The taxiways will now connect to the thresholds at both ends of the runway, making the airport more efficient in handling higher frequencies of landings and takeoffs. The parallel taxiway extension will allow international flights to land every 4 minutes instead of the current every 7 minutes. At present planes have to wait to land until a plane taking off backtracks along the runway.&nbsp; Kathmandu is Nepal’s only airport with international operations, and it has only one runway that is only one way in from the south over the mountains. With the taxiway improvement, the airport will be able to handle 42 aircraft landings and takeoffs per hour — double the current capacity.&nbsp; The Civil Aviation Authority of Nepal (CAAN) has been trying to entice international airlines to also start flying to and from the other two international airports at Pokhara and Bhairawa (Lumbini) by slashing landing and handling charges. But so far only Nepal Airlines operates a weekly flight to Bhairawa from Kuala Lumpur.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241018161016_046569e53d1d66cd445cc66c697c0ef724810aec9f54bdf827481e3cd6b80c32.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20241018161016_046569e53d1d66cd445cc66c697c0ef724810aec9f54bdf827481e3cd6b80c32" data-rendition-name="original" width="2356" height="1134" loading="lazy" alt="Kathmandu airport expansion"> <figcaption>Kathmandu Airport Expansion plan with extension of taxiways to the thresholds of runways 02 and 20 that will limit airport operations from 8 November 2024 - 31 March 2025. Areas in blue are existing structures, including the international terminal which in future will be the domestic airport, and the new international terminal near the north end of the runway,</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241018121028_6e17cc2ee87c1b02d78cb54905825b7aa15299b7a00f5eddb01a59579ab85c1a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20241018121028_6e17cc2ee87c1b02d78cb54905825b7aa15299b7a00f5eddb01a59579ab85c1a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1353" height="1328" loading="lazy" alt="Kathmandu airport NT"> </figure>  CAAN has reportedly told international airlines to cut their flight frequency to Kathmandu citing the shorter operation hours and has told budget airlines to shift some of their flights to Pokhara or Bhairawa, or face cuts. Many airlines currently operate regular flights to and from Kathmandu between 10PM and 8AM: Air Arabia to Sharjah, Fly Dubai to Dubai, Jazeera Airways to Kuwait, Cathay Pacific to Hong Kong, Singapore Airlines, several Nepal Airlines flights, and one of four daily flights by Qatar Airways to Doha. Jazeera Airways, FlyDubai, and Thai AirAsia have applied and got permission from CAAN to begin regular flights to Bhairawa’s Gautam Buddha International Airport. Starting 9 November, FlyDubai will start making a stopover in Bhairawa before flying on to Kathmandu. Immigration, customs and security are all fully functional in Bhairawa. In Kathmandu, the next phase of the airport upgrade includes converting the current international terminal for domestic operations, the construction of a new international terminal where the domestic departure area is now, as well as moving the hangars and the Nepal Army Air Wing to the eastern side of the runway. The apron area will also double its parking space for widebody jets. This is part of a Airport Capacity Enhancement Project that was initially funded through a $80 million loan from the Asian Development Bank (ADB), and the entire masterplan is expected to cost $800 million. This project is the latest upgrade to Nepal’s only international airport since it saw its first flight in 1949. The current international and domestic terminals are too small to handle the current annual traffic volume of 8.5 million passengers a year that is growing at 20% a year.

Kathmandu airport to cut flight hours

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

When the United Nations held its Summit of the Future at its headquarters in New York in September, many world leaders, including Nepal’s Prime Minister K P Oli, highlighted the effect of climate breakdown in increasing the frequency and intensity of natural disasters. What did not get as much attention was the long term impact of the climate crisis on food production. In fact, heat stress, weather extremes and the consequences on rain-fed agriculture is already being felt worldwide, undermining the chances of the <a href="https://unstats.un.org/sdgs/">UN’s Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs)</a> being met by 2030.&nbsp; The SDG’s 17 targets commit countries like Nepal to reduce poverty and inequality, end malnutrition, protect the natural environment, and ensure that citizens all enjoy health, justice and prosperity without leaving anyone behind.&nbsp; However, besides the impact of climate breakdown on agricultural production, in Nepal the area under cultivation is impacted by urban expansion, falling productivity and the need for expensive inputs like fertiliser and pesticides.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241019041052_626413c5baf4dae407ac9579231b41daeb51510aa636b75aeb7489d94cca6a62.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20241019041052_626413c5baf4dae407ac9579231b41daeb51510aa636b75aeb7489d94cca6a62" data-rendition-name="original" width="999" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="urban agriculture in Kathmandu"> <figcaption>Kathmandu's urban sprawl is eating into its fertile cultivable lands. Photo: TAYLOR MASON</figcaption> </figure>  Now, a new study led by Nepali researcher Prajal Pradhan at the University of Groningen in The Netherlands looks at how urban agriculture may offer a solution to falling food production and meeting SDG targets. The researchers evaluated 1,450 publications exploring the contributions of urban agriculture with both positive and negative effects, and published their findings in the journal Cells Report Sustainability. Urban agriculture can help achieve 17 SDGs, positively influencing 81 targets. However, it could also undermine 51 goals.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-vanishing-land">The vanishing land</a>, Taylor Mason “Urban agriculture offers immense potential for sustainable development, but realising this potential depends crucially on adopting practices that minimise its adverse effects while maximising its benefits,” Pradhan explains. Urban agriculture can substantially enhance urban food security, provide employment to the urban poor, serve as ground water recharge in built-up areas, and preserve open spaces that can serve as safe havens during disasters like earthquakes. However, it also presents problems like the potential health risks from contamination and the need for expensive inputs. &nbsp; “Urban agriculture plays a definitive role in advancing the SDGs, but achieving this requires tailored, context-specific solutions that address the unique challenges of different regions,” says Yuanchao Hu of Wuhan University in China and who is a researcher at the Potsdam Institute for Climate Impact Research. “But it needs equitable access and rigorous management of environmental risks.”&nbsp; Rapid urbanisation is eating into Nepal’s most fertile agricultural land, which means farming in remaining open spaces inside cities can be a viable alternative, especially as food prices rise.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241019041052_7b7c9413086226fbdc630d45acf772cfa1ced77a8970b9056ec5ec7e5226fdf8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20241019041052_7b7c9413086226fbdc630d45acf772cfa1ced77a8970b9056ec5ec7e5226fdf8" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="999" loading="lazy" alt="urban agriculture in Kathmandu"> <figcaption>A vegetable patch in between new houses in Thimi. Photo: TAYLOR MASON</figcaption> </figure>  “The conversion of Nepal’s most fertile land into cities is a severe problem,” Pradhan told Nepali Times. “Crop cultivation, horticulture, agroforestry, beekeeping, livestock rearing, or aquaculture can all be farming activities within and around cities.”&nbsp; The study makes recommendations for sustainable practices that build on the positive aspects of urban agriculture while mitigating the downsides, thereby promoting more resilient cities in future. Research shows that urban agriculture has been helping many countries attain SDG targets by enhancing food security and biodiversity while helping education and preservation of open spaces.&nbsp; Indeed, many farmers from the hinterland who have settled in Kathmandu Valley or other urban areas of the country have been practicing urban agriculture, leasing neighbourhood patches or cultivating roof gardens both out of necessity because of inflation and falling income to grow their own food, and also as a fulfilling hobby. Saurav Dhakal, a sustainability advocate with Story Cycle and now research fellow at the Asian Institute of Technology in Thailand, says there are socio-economic and environmental benefits of urban agriculture. “It provides benefits to all urban dwellers, regardless of their income status,” says Dhakal, “families get fresh food, and there are many other benefits like water retention, heat regulation and biodiversity. These are all public goods, so special government incentives may be needed.” It is not unusual to see vegetable patches and even paddy fields within inner city Kathmandu where an older generation of farmers are using available fertile land and <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/rooftop-gardens-kathmandu,1415">roof gardens to produce fresh, nutritious food </a>to reduce their dependence on food items that have to be bought after being trucked in from large distances.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024101905100_1291ce98dbbb8caed8702ac4b1d469b3e13016d7ecaaf3bfd5f91c974d3c0c77.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2024101905100_1291ce98dbbb8caed8702ac4b1d469b3e13016d7ecaaf3bfd5f91c974d3c0c77" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="999" loading="lazy" alt="urban agriculture in Kathmandu"> <figcaption>An older generation of farmers are using any available fertile land to continue farming but it is getting more and more difficult. Photo: TAYLOR MASON </figcaption> </figure>  Nepal’s urban population grew rapidly from only 3.6% in 1991 to 25% today. There is large outmigration from the mountains to peri-urban areas of the Tarai, to Kathmandu Valley and Pokhara, with many young men then moving abroad for work. Kathmandu Valley’s population has swelled to nearly 3 million, and is growing at 6.5% a year. Dilip Shrestha, 71, used to work for Nepal Food Corporation, so he knew firsthand about inflation, shortages and vegetables with pesticide residue. So, when he designed his new house in Kathmandu, he built a spacious roof where he grows cucumber, ginger, garlic, coriander, onions, tomatoes, chili, beans, okra, pumpkin and lettuce. His family eats healthier, and he has reduced dependence on the market.&nbsp; The co-author of the Cell Reports Sustainability journal article, Daya Raj Subedi who is a PhD candidate at Beijing Forestry University, says urban agriculture also promotes inclusion and psycho-social wellbeing.&nbsp; He says, “A crucial finding of the study is the identification of opportunities and challenges associated with urban agriculture, it can promote sustainable transformation of society.” In Banepa, 55-year-old Bijaya Manandhar in her lifetime has watched the fertile farms of her neighbourhood that used to supply vegetables to Kathmandu, now completely built up with no open space left. The pandemic lockdown prompted her to turn to the family’s <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/rooftop-agriculture-on-the-roof-of-the-world">ancestral livelihood by growing food</a> not on terrace farms, but on the roof terrace. Manandhar is now a part of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/rooftop-agriculture-on-the-roof-of-the-world%5C%5C">कौसी खेती र करेसाबारी क्रान्ती</a> (Rooftop Farming and Garden Revolution) which has an online membership of 52,000, and awards annual prizes to women who excel in urban agriculture.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241019041052_7257f5def8f823f35a799fa6f6825e153f2ffa406ac11325d4fe74049b79e96d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20241019041052_7257f5def8f823f35a799fa6f6825e153f2ffa406ac11325d4fe74049b79e96d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="736" loading="lazy" alt="urban agriculture in Kathmandu"> <figcaption>Rooftop farming is gaining popularity as a form of urban agriculture. </figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241019041052_beff1a4494ce896dd8fd383ee1f518e5448bcf7ea8bb138255391c7bcb9769ed.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20241019041052_beff1a4494ce896dd8fd383ee1f518e5448bcf7ea8bb138255391c7bcb9769ed" data-rendition-name="original" width="4000" height="3000" loading="lazy" alt="urban agriculture in Kathmandu"> </figure>  Pradhan says the challenge now is to upscale such examples of successful urban agricultural practices so they support Neal’s efforts to meet SDG targets. He adds, “Crop cultivation around cities can be protected by land use plans and regulations. Promoting community-based agriculture, including rooftop gardens, requires community engagement and public-private partnerships across the food value chain.”&nbsp; Such support would accelerate the popularity of existing rooftop farming and community gardens in Kathmandu Valley, or kitchen garden initiatives in Pokhara, and building on traditional farming practices that are preserved and integrated into urban settings like in Bhaktapur and Banepa. In Lalitpur, the Women Entrepreneurship Facilitation Center promotes urban farming enhancing both sustainability and empowerment.&nbsp; Another co-author of the report, Yuanchao Hu from China says followup research of the team will aim to identify good practices in local urban agriculture practices. He adds, “There are examples of urban agriculture that optimise sustainability, ensuring that it remains a viable solution for cities globally while countries try to meet SDG targets.” Prajal Pradhan, Daya Raj Subedi, Kshitij Dahal, Yuanchao Hu, Prakriti Gurung, Sijal Pokharel, Sagar Kafle, Biplav Khatri, Sudeeksha Basyal, Monika Gurung, and Aruna Joshi. Urban Agriculture matters for sustainable development. Cell Reports Sustainability, 1:100217, 2024. [DOI: 10.1016/j.crsus.2024.100217] Prajal Pradhan (<a href="mailto:p.pradhan@rug.nl">p.pradhan@rug.nl</a>) This article is brought to you by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/" target="_blank">Nepali Times</a>, in collaboration with <a href="https://inpsjapan.com/en/" target="_blank">INPS Japan</a> and <a href="https://sgi-peace.org/" target="_blank">Soka Gakkai International</a>, in consultative status with UN ECOSOC.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240630110640_30c3782f9c09219bf1c249b51483a3cfb7a53a06d117d2aebd23ca7080d12758.jpg" data-media-id="editor_14" data-image-id="20240630110640_30c3782f9c09219bf1c249b51483a3cfb7a53a06d117d2aebd23ca7080d12758" data-rendition-name="original" width="680" height="103" loading="lazy" alt="SDG logo"> </figure>

Back to the land in the cities

The 700-year-old Lakshmi Narasingha temple in Bhaktapur houses a rare half-lion and half-human incarnation of Lord Vishnu carrying the Goddess Lakshmi. The temple was destroyed in the 1934 mega earthquake that killed 10,000 people and destroyed many monuments in Kathmandu Valley. It was rebuilt by a German project in the 1980s, but as a single-storey structure instead of its original two-tier pagoda design.&nbsp; With new findings from in-depth research, Bhaktapur municipality began re-restoring the temple in 2021, preserving its original architecture.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241017131016_2fae38cce543ad7b1f6de632feb3e212e08ed1acedd747830e949d7b8e878f18.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20241017131016_2fae38cce543ad7b1f6de632feb3e212e08ed1acedd747830e949d7b8e878f18" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="In with the old in Nepal NT"> </figure>  “Our temples and heritage sites hold deep meaning. It is disheartening to witness how often they lose their original elements, whether by design or accident,” explains Kumar Chawal of the Consumer Committee of Bhaktapur. “There is a need to preserve our architecture and protect its historical value for future generations. Otherwise, we risk losing a vital part of our identity.” The Laksmi Narsingha restoration is similar to the Bhai Dega temple in Patan Darbar Square which also collapsed in 1934, but was rebuilt with a Moghul-style dome by the Rana government at the time. Only two months before the 2015 earthquake, heritage conservationists had started to rebuild Bhai Dega as the original three-tier based on early photographs. But priorities shifted when four other temples in the square were brought down by the 7.8M earthquake on 25 April 2015.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241017131016_697ea707d9ad163be5de5f2efbf5b70d3cab771adcc22f0fae6bf937c6cb0130.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20241017131016_697ea707d9ad163be5de5f2efbf5b70d3cab771adcc22f0fae6bf937c6cb0130" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="In with the old in Nepal NT"> </figure>  This showed how damage to monuments in Kathmandu Valley spanned from one earthquake to the next. Bhai Dega restoration remains half-complete to this day because money for its restoration ran out.&nbsp; Whereas Bhai Dega restoration was done by the Kathmandu Valley Preservation Trust with grants from western embassies and international foundations, in Bhaktapur it is the municipality itself that allocated the Rs30.7 million needed to restore the Lakshmi Narasingha temple. The expected date of completion is early 2025. The municipality and local communities are focusing on two main aspects: preserving the past and promoting localisation. The restoration team has designed a blueprint for the temple by using historical photographs and insights from older generations.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241017131016_182882fdc393c99e70d1d0490319e415229563666c4934e3a582426ebf00ca30.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20241017131016_182882fdc393c99e70d1d0490319e415229563666c4934e3a582426ebf00ca30" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="560" loading="lazy" alt="In with the old in Nepal NT"> </figure>  “At first, the Lakshmi Narasingha temple had only one entrance, but during the demolition process, we uncovered the foundations of four doors. Now, we are restoring all of them. This is an example of how our ancient structures have changed over time, often without our knowledge,” says Chawal. “Constructing temples is not like building houses. They carry historical and spiritual values, which is why they hold a special place in our hearts,” he adds. By replicating ancient design elements and rebuilding the temple as accurately as possible to its original form, the team has stayed true to Bhaktapur’s soul. But the restoration also revived ancient techniques that were in danger of being forgotten, generating employment for woodcarvers, masons, and contractors. The community of Bhaktapur’s Gahiti neighbourhood near the famous Nyatapola Temple has also set aside specific days for locals to volunteer in the reconstruction work. This has encouraged young people to take pride in ownership of their heritage. Families have also supported the effort by donating funds for bells, the temple pinnacle, and other structural features to the temple.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241017131016_db850ec0c084cdbe54f65bee92dad2ad8122d20fd60ec87ec086fbb9d2f72bd6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20241017131016_db850ec0c084cdbe54f65bee92dad2ad8122d20fd60ec87ec086fbb9d2f72bd6" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="In with the old in Nepal NT"> </figure>  “I feel at peace knowing I have contributed my sweat to restoring this temple,” said one volunteer. “It is our duty to preserve our temples and heritage. The Nyatapola area will look magical once this temple is completed.” Community mobilisation is a long-standing tradition in Bhaktapur. In the past, locals have actively participated in the restoration of other temples in the city, such as Bhairav and Nyatapola fostering a strong sense of ownership. This collective engagement has not only been crucial in preserving the city's historical monuments but also in strengthening the bond between local communities and their heritage, says officials at the municipality. While securing funding is essential, and the municipality showed it values heritage conservation, the Lakshmi Narasingha restoration is proof that active involvement and sense of responsibility of the local community is as important, if not more. Local involvement also means that the monuments will be cared for into the future, When locals take ownership of these efforts, the restored monuments are not only protected in the present but are also cared for in the future.