Gyalbu Tamang had spent the night in <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/langtang-before-after-earthquake-nepal">Langtang village</a> for a prayer vigil, and was on his way back to his home in Kyanjin, three hours up the valley. It started drizzling, and he took shelter at a friend’s place. Just before noon as tea was being served, the ground shook violently. It was strangely dark, large lumps of snow started falling like in a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/heavy-snowfall-over-nepal-himalaya">blizzard</a>.&nbsp; Tamang knew it was a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/deadly-earthquake-hits-w-nepal?fbclid=IwAR3P8YkAGim9rZo5oPMMDTfsUD29TVo9heuh378KH5Lo-TVA6YjotithQg8">big earthquake</a>, and rushed on to Kyanjin to see if his two daughters were safe. His heart sank when he looked down from a bluff overlooking the village. His house and much of the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-buddha-was-born-in-lumbini">monastic town</a> were piles of rubble and ice.&nbsp; His daughters had been taught in school to take cover in an earthquake, and this saved them when it hit. Tamang's sister Sumjo was outside and blown off by the blast. When she came to, she could not move because of a broken leg and her baby daughter had been thrown away but safe.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250405030444_dd47ceaf71a505e075f4a3628baf70161a40ebd21bcec1b1a2ebe03b28da4293.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250405030444_dd47ceaf71a505e075f4a3628baf70161a40ebd21bcec1b1a2ebe03b28da4293" data-rendition-name="original" width="960" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="Langtang Valley"> <figcaption>As a boy, Gyalbu Tamang learnt cheesemaking from his father who was trained by the Swiss in the 1950s.</figcaption> </figure>  Tamang then ran back down to Langtang where the rest of his extended family lived. He passed people fleeing in the opposite direction who said <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-courage-and-endurance-of-the-langtangpa">there was nothing left of Langtang</a>. His parents, sisters and their families were all buried by the avalanche. “If I had not left that morning, I would have been dead too,” says Tamang, now 49.&nbsp; The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/lost-in-reconstruction">7.8 magnitude earthquake</a> unleashed an avalanche from Mt Langtang Lirung (7,234m) that bulldozed a glacier, burying the village below in debris 100m deep. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/five-years-after-avalanche-langtang-is-locked-down">Five years after avalanche, Langtang is locked down&nbsp;</a> At least 310 people were killed, 80 of them <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/trekkers-welcome-in-nepal-but-conditions-apply">international trekkers</a>. Most were never found, some were blown off by the shock wave to the other side of the valley. <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/langtang-before-after-earthquake-nepal">Langtang village was wiped off the map</a>.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025040504048_d8c71171ea5b41fb9fb5d919f671567ea4e326590b4a2ff340951e1c1713f9b0.png" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="2025040504048_d8c71171ea5b41fb9fb5d919f671567ea4e326590b4a2ff340951e1c1713f9b0" data-rendition-name="original" width="834" height="447" loading="lazy" alt="Langtang Valley map"> </figure>  Tamang returned to the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/langtang-revives-its-cheese-heritage">Langtang Cheese Production Centre</a> which he heads. It was set up in the 1950s by the Swiss, and now run by the government’s<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/business/land-of-milk-and-money"> Dairy Development Cooperation (DDC)</a>.&nbsp; The factory was flattened by the earthquake. What was left of the equipment, raw material and 150kg of cheese in the storeroom were destroyed. Of the yak herders who supplied milk to the plant, 22 had been killed and 700 of their yaks. Langtang's survivors, including Tamang’s family, were evacuated to Phuntsok Choeling Monastery in Kathmandu for safety as aftershocks rattled Langtang.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025040504044_e44f7d2697ff5b49528b44792dab75efa34ecf549555ce4b6a589833e54b0df8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_13" data-image-id="2025040504044_e44f7d2697ff5b49528b44792dab75efa34ecf549555ce4b6a589833e54b0df8" data-rendition-name="original" width="5312" height="2988" loading="lazy" alt="Langtang Valley"> </figure>  That was where Tamang reconnected with film-maker Kesang Tseten, who was so moved by the tales of survivors who had lost family members, that he made his award-winning documentary Trembling Mountain. “I wasn’t initially thinking of making a film, however, the story started unfolding itself,” recalls Tseten.&nbsp; Trembling Mountain became not just the story of the rebirth of Langtang but also about its <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepals-yak-cheese-is-on-world-map">yak herders and cheese makers</a> who had lost their livelihood.&nbsp; “<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/those-who-stay">Mountain people</a> struck by disaster with the tangible goal of rebuilding a cheese factory was a metaphor for the community getting back on its feet,” Tseten explains. The film crew visited Langtang five times over the next year, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/off-the-beaten-trek-in-nepal">trekking across trails </a>made treacherous by landslides and rockfalls. The Nepal Army was still recovering bodies, and Kesang filmed a masked Gyalbu Tamang chanting with prayer beads as he identified the decomposed bodies of relatives.&nbsp; After watching the film, the Swiss Agency for Development and Cooperation (SDC) in Kathmandu helped rebuild the cheese plant. &nbsp; Gyalbu Tamang’s father was one of the first cheese makers trained by the Swiss 70 years ago, and he grew up milking yaks in high pasture and learning the art of cheese-making which he is now passing on to a younger generation. Trembling Mountain also prompted the DDC to raise the buying rate of yak milk from Rs70 per litre to Rs100.&nbsp; The Langtang cheese factory survived a catastrophic earthquake and was rebuilt, but ten years later its very existence is in doubt again because the herders are getting older and the youth have migrated. It is also too expensive to rear yaks.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/langtang-revives-its-cheese-heritage">Langtang revives its cheese heritage</a>, Gyalbu Tamang&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250405030456_916e23555795fd3e5f618ad328192e486fe1bc08c40edb1a038d3827123a0402.jpg" data-media-id="editor_18" data-image-id="20250405030456_916e23555795fd3e5f618ad328192e486fe1bc08c40edb1a038d3827123a0402" data-rendition-name="original" width="2485" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="Langtang Valley"> <figcaption>Langtang Cheese Production Centre was set up by the Swiss 70 years ago, and was destroyed in the 2015 disaster (left). It was rebuilt after the earthquake (right) but has been impacted by dwindling yak herders.</figcaption> </figure>  “Even a cup of black tea costs Rs120, so why would yak herders do such hard work?” asks Tamang, who was in Kathmandu this week to lobby with the DDC to increase the price of milk.&nbsp; The number of herders <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/so-far-so-good/nepal-s-milk-heartland-rebounds">supplying milk </a>to the cheese plant has come down from 36 to five. Some of the yaks are already being bought by other cheese factories down the valley or in Gatlang. Langtang cheese has strong brand value, and Tamang hopes that a private investor will be interested. This would not just revive the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/a-family-that-works-together-stays-together">dairy business</a>, but also the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/culture-cannot-be-an-afterthought">cultural heritage</a> associated with <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-salt-of-the-earth">yak herding</a> that is in decline. &nbsp; The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-climate-crisis-is-a-water-crisis-in-the-himalaya">climate crisis</a> has added to the problem. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-suffers-another-winter-drought">Less snow in winter </a>affects grass in spring, leading to lower nutrition levels in yaks and less fat content in their milk.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025040504044_3c6e268b1704f7803fbe6ff1a070fc490afe437bed6adbf9c3dbaeeded5dda4a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_25" data-image-id="2025040504044_3c6e268b1704f7803fbe6ff1a070fc490afe437bed6adbf9c3dbaeeded5dda4a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1692" height="1232" loading="lazy" alt="Langtang Valley"> </figure>  This has a direct impact on cheese production at the factory, which has fallen to 2,300kg per season from a high of 7,000kg when Tamang’s father Pasang Norbu used to head the plant. “My father had 15 yaks himself, and he bought more with his retirement money so that his children would continue to be in the dairy business,” says Tamang. “My son is in Grade 6 in Kathmandu, and I hope he grows up to be a cheese maker too.” In the 10 years after the earthquake and avalanche, Kyanjin has become the new tourism hub with 46 lodges and has been dubbed ‘Thamel on the Mountain’. &nbsp; Karma Tamang, a lodge owner in Kyanjin whose relatives also perished, told us in 2021 that perhaps the earthquake was punishment to people of the valley for becoming too money-minded and greedy. “Back then immediately after the earthquake, many of us said that we have to fall back on religion again. After all, we cannot take anything with us when we die.”&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-reincarnation-of-a-holy-valley">The reincarnation of a holy valley</a> Besides cheesemaking, Gyalbu Tamang owns a small lodge in Kyanjin. He says, “That feeling is long gone, people are back to their old ways. Trekkers have returned, it is business as usual, and there is envy and competition.” &nbsp; <h2>Cheesemaking for beginners</h2> Technically, yak cheese is a misnomer. Yaks are male, and the female is a nak. There are also specialised names like zopkyo or dzom depending on whether they are male or female crossbred with cattle. Nepalis, even<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/The-way-%20we-were,968"> in the highlands</a>, do not traditionally eat cheese, but do turn surplus yak milk into churpi, a hard cheese with a long shelf life. It was the Swiss 70 years ago who wished to make Nepal in their image and introduce cheese making to places like Langtang and Jiri. The yak cheese production window is between March to November. Langtang Cheese Production Centre staff travel to high pastures up to 5,000m with their yaks. Yala has the highest quality milk as yaks graze on lush grass, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/giving-yarsagumba-a-chance-for-regrowth">yarsagumba </a>and panchaunle in the spring season. When they have grazed on one slope, they move on to the next. &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025040504040_8515e2f307c674d811da80e0c05e8d3afc0b9c8376ac39a360f9a5b5830ec464.jpg" data-media-id="editor_29" data-image-id="2025040504040_8515e2f307c674d811da80e0c05e8d3afc0b9c8376ac39a360f9a5b5830ec464" data-rendition-name="original" width="1750" height="1313" loading="lazy" alt="Langtang Valley"> </figure>  At camp, the milk is boiled to 65°C using firewood already stacked up during the off-season. The milk is then cooled to 35°C and the fat content brought down to 3.5-3.6% from 6.5-7%.&nbsp; Once the mixture attains the required fat content, an enzyme is added at about 32°C and left for five minutes after which the milk turns jelly-like. For the next 15 minutes, the smaller pieces are stirred in the vat by slowly increasing the temperature up to 52°C. At this point, the fire is stopped, but manual stirring continues for the next hour. Next, the curd is separated using cheesecloth every few minutes throughout the night, and filled into circular moulds. The whey byproduct is traditionally used as a home remedy for gastritis. The cheese disks are transported down to the factory in Kyanjin and dipped in salt water for 48 hours and then stored in racks for three months. They are moistened with salt water every once in a while before the cheese disks ripen. Today, churpi has become popular in Europe and the US as dog chew, and last year Nepal exported nearly 1,000 tonnes of dog chew worth $90 million to the United States. Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/churpi-lifecycle-in-nepal">The Churpi Lifecycle: An Infographic</a> &nbsp;

Sonia Awale

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Langtang after 10 years

<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> </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> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121120/636b8cfe9c7e80680e06b328jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption> </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> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121120/636b8d049c7e80680e06b32ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="427"><figcaption> </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> </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> </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> </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> </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> </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 src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141116/636a57589c7e80680e0547d9jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="834"/><figcaption>ARCTIC HIMALAYA: NASA satellite images of Imja Galcier near Mt Everest taken in 1962, 1975, 1983, 1989, 1992, 2000, 2006 and (above) in 2010.</figcaption></figure>Climate scientists are shocked at the melt rate of Arctic sea ice and the Greenland ice-cap this summer, but the alarm bells are ringing even louder in the Himalaya.The 4,000km Himalayan arc is dubbed ‘The Third Pole’ because it has the biggest ice mass after the earth’s north and south polar regions. After this year’s <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/turning-on-the-heat/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">record heat</a>, scientists say they may have to revise upwards predictions about how fast it is melting.Read Also:<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=32805&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Climate-health emergency,</a> Sonia Awale<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=32892&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Tree-mendous,</a> Peter Gill“Nearly a third of Nepal’s area is above 5,000m and is technically the Arctic,” says economist and former Water Resources Minister Dipak Gyawali. “And it is reasonable to assume that what is happening in the Arctic is happening in our Himalayan Arctic.”<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/on-thin-ice-in-the-khumbu/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Himalayan ice cover</a> is melting even faster than the poles because the mountains are situated astride the tropics. Gyawali warns it is not just about receding glaciers, but uncertainty about how climate change will <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/kundadixit/2016/06/05/climactic-change-2/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">affect precipitation. </a>Read Also:<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=32877&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">It's a jungle out there,</a> Ajaya Dixit<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=32887&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Trees, politics and greed</a>, Mukesh Pokharel<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141116/636a575a9c7e80680e0547dajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="200" height="200">In a report earlier this year titled Hindu Kush Himalaya Assessment: Climate Change, Sustainability and People, the Kathmandu-based International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development (<a href="http://www.icimod.org/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">ICIMOD</a>) predicted the Himalaya would lose <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/a-terrifying-assessment-of-himalayan-melting/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">more than one-third of its ice</a> by the end of the century, even if global average temperatures are capped at a 1.5oC increase above pre-industrial levels by 2050.But after this northern hemisphere summer, scientists warned the poles are already seeing levels of melting that was supposed to happen 30 years from now. If <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/climate-for-change/the-great-himalayan-thaw/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">current emission trends </a>continue and forests are cut at the present rate, the world could be hotter by up to 6.5oC by 2100 — melting two-thirds of Himalayan glaciers.Read Also:<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=32836&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Mustn't blame everything on Climate Change,</a> Editorial<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=32872&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Protecting Kathmandu’s historic roofscape,</a> Anne FeenstraIn July, scientists from 60 countries met in Kathmandu to start working on the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/weather-warning-for-climate-meeting/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Inter-governmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC)</a> 6th Assessment Report, due in 2022. Many of them admitted they may have to revise previous predictions because warming was happening faster than estimated.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RTnxJKo97DI&amp;t=67sHimalayan peaks <a href="https://insideclimatenews.org/news/26112018/mount-everest-photos-world-highest-glacier-climate-change-khombu-icefall-climbing-route" target="_blank" rel="noopener">are already warming</a> up to 0.7oC faster than the global average because of a phenomenon called ‘elevation amplification’. Many of these projections will form part of an IPCC Special Report on the Ocean and Cryosphere, to be released on 23 September at the Climate Action Summit in New York during the UN General Assembly.Read Also:<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=32849&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Tourism, aviation, and carbon,</a> Sanghamitra Subba<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=32856&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Climate Summit leads packed UN agenda,</a> Thalif DeenTo be sure, there are mountain regions nearer the equator with smaller ice mass that are melting even faster than the Himalaya. Andean glaciers in Bolivia have shrunk by half in the past 50 years, and Kilimanjaro has lost nearly all the ice on its summit in the past 100 years.<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/ice-to-water-glacier-lake-outburts-himalayas-nepal,4197" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The loss of Himalayan ice </a>will have even more devastating consequences because there are about 1.3 billion people living downstream who depend on its rivers. Glaciers in the central and eastern Himalaya are already receding up to 30m per year.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141116/636a575b9c7e80680e0547dbjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1100" height="894"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Read Also:<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=32868&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Mosquitoes move up mountains as the earth warms,</a> Sonia AwaleClimate models show that spring flow in the Indus, Ganges and Brahmaputra rivers and their glacier-fed tributaries will rise till 2050 as the earth warms, but will start decreasing after that because there will be no more ice left to melt.Already, 60% of the water withdrawn for irrigation in the Indo-Gangetic Basin originates from snow and glacier melt — and the dry season flow of most Himalayan rivers is almost entirely snow-fed.“The mountains are the pulse of the planet, and that pulse is telling us that we are in a climate crisis,” warned <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/interview/interview-with-david-molden-icimod,3074" target="_blank" rel="noopener">ICIMOD Director General David Molden</a> at a Cryosphere and Society Forum on 28-29 August in Kathmandu. “The impact of climate change is felt hard in mountains, with temperatures rising faster than the plains, resulting in changing  ecosystem and agricultural patterns, changing rainfall and river flows.”For the first time, the forum this year brought together scientists and local communities from across the Himalaya so as to bridge the knowledge gap between researchers and local people. The idea was to see how <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/climate-damage/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">climate change</a> affects water supply, energy and food security for people in the Himalaya, and to offer solutions.“The impact on farming, tourism and hydropower is already being felt, the question is: what are we going to do about it?” said ICIMOD climate expert Arun Bhakta Shrestha.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141116/636a575e9c7e80680e0547dcjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1100" height="825"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepals-yak-cheese-is-on-world-map/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">yak cheese</a> factory in Nepal’s <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/langtang-before-after-earthquake-nepal" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Langtang Valley</a> has been in continuous operation for the past 55 years, but is facing an existential crisis because the glaciers that used to feed springs have dried up, and the weather has become erratic.“The <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/langtang-destroyed-in-earthquake,2205" target="_blank" rel="noopener">avalanche in 2015</a> was a sudden disaster that hit with no  warning,” said cheesemaker Gyalpu Tamang, who lost relatives and friends, also herds of yaks. “But this climate crisis is a slow-moving disaster, and just as serious.”Attending the forum were farmers from Mustang. One of them, Narendra Lama, said villagers who depend on glacial melt to power water mills, irrigation, hydro-electricity and drinking water are already seeing the impact.Lama said: “Some of us have been forced to leave our villages because of the shortage of water.Springs have gone dry. We need scientists to tell us what to do.”This story is part of Covering Climate Now, a global collaboration of more than 220 news outlets to strengthen coverage of the climate story.

Kunda Dixit

The Third Pole is warming faster than expected

Nepal’s Gurkha soldiers have a well-deserved reputation worldwide for uncommon valour and loyalty. However, what happened in Hawaii in 1986 and the long struggle for fair pay and pension shows that the formidable fighters from Nepal also do not tolerate injustice. The Hong Kong-based 1st Battalion of the 7th Duke of Edinburgh’s Own Gurkha Rifles was in Hawaii for jungle warfare training exercises at the Joint Pacific Multinational Readiness Center when they beat up their commanding officer, Major Corin Pearce. &nbsp;&nbsp; The Gurkhas said Pearce had insulted them, and 111 soldiers were dismissed. Pearce suffered broken ribs and a head injury, and was himself also discharged. The incident got worldwide publicity and enforced the belief that the Nepalis were not treated fairly in the British Army. It also led some retired soldiers to begin a decades-long struggle for compensation at par with their British peers.&nbsp; Retired British Gurkha soldier Shankar Rai in his book Triumph and Tears revisits the Hawaii incident which he witnessed, and also his experience in the Falkland Islands/Malvinas war in 1982.&nbsp; He has lots of grievances: unequal treatment and injustice from the British Army towards himself and his comrades. This is an indignant and disillusioned account of the good, the bad and the ugly of being a British Gurkha, which he says let him down despite his service and belief in it.&nbsp; The book could also be a cautionary tale of how one person on a power-trip can tarnish two centuries of the shared history of Nepal and the UK, as well as ruin the lives of those involved. It also is proof that loyalty should never be taken for granted. Four years after defeating the Argentinians in the Falklands, several companies and platoons of Gurkha rifles were stationed in Hawaii in 1986 for joint US-UK ‘Exercise Union Pacific’ military exercises. The goal was to ‘perfect the art of marine warfare in collaboration with the US Marine Force’. The rules were that a British Gurkha company commander needed to have the rank of major and pass a Nepali language test. Captain Pearce was the son-in-law of a British Brigadier on extra-regiment employment, and this rule was waived. He was appointed Acting Major. Pearce didn’t bother to learn Nepali language or culture, and from Rai’s account took every chance to belittle and embarrass the Gurkhas as poor, stupid, rude, backward, and lucky to be there. He writes: ‘After Captain Pearce reached Hawaii, he began to project himself as a master and the Gurkhas as servants, to show off to the Americans.’ The author also recounts other slights, such as only receiving a fourth of the rations they were due during hard training, being forced to train even when some of the soldiers had high fever, and claims to have ‘civilised’ the Nepalis.&nbsp; Pearce had been to eastern Nepal before the training and seen the grinding poverty. He kept telling the Gurkhas how lucky they were to be in the job, and that they were making ‘more money than Nepal’s prime minister’. During the final farewell party in Hawaii, Pearce set up tables to form a saluting platform, and asked the Gurkha pipe and drum band to march around him while playing. The enraged soldiers could not take it anymore, and after the party an inebriated group ran Captains Pearce and Chandra Kumar Pradhan out of their tents and beat them up. Both officers broke ribs, and the major needed 15 stitches on his head. ‘This sorry and unseemly episode is considered to have been entirely at odds with the Brigade of Gurkhas’ tradition of loyalty and gallant service in the British Army. It is regarded as an isolated and untypical event, which will not be permitted to detract from the high esteem in which the Brigade is held,’ reads the report of an investigation. Most of the 1/7 company soldiers were dismissed whether they had been involved in the assault or not. The author describes the shame that followed, with dismissed soldiers returning to Nepal with lost face.&nbsp; ‘I burned with humiliation, and life scared me,’ writes the author, whose father told him that he was ashamed to call him his son. ‘Many of my friends’ girlfriends left them and married other people. Rifleman Khem Gurung (21162015) of Itahari committed suicide,’ writes Rai, adding that those dismissed were blacklisted, and could not get other jobs.&nbsp; They tried to pursue legal action against the British Government, but backed down when they could not afford expensive hotshot lawyers, and would not have the money to cover the British government’s legal fees in the likely case of a loss in court. Gurkhas who had served for four years in the UK were allowed to move there, an option that many of those dismissed in the Hawaii incident took, including the author, who now lives in Oxford. Rai pours out his hurt and emotion in the book. Towards the end, he writes: ‘I depend on small jobs for livelihood. In the remaining time, I actively raise the issue of the victims of the Hawaii incident. We are burdened with insults, hatred, and contempt for a lifetime. It was harsher than a court martial, too heavy to bear.’ The is a slim book, and is a quick, engaging read of an incident 30 years ago, and Rai writes with a soldier’s precision. Even though the anger shows even after all these years, there is no over-dramatisation in the narrative.&nbsp; The first part of the book is about sailing across the South Atlantic in the QEII, which had been converted into a troop ship to take the Gurkhas to war. The soldiers from landlocked Nepal were mostly sea-sick, but were happy to get two cans of beer a day. Barclays Bank even had a branch on board. Rai’s descriptions of the friendships he developed in the Company and on the battlefield are poignant. They braved Argentinian bombs, dug trenches and fought through the rain in the Southern Hemisphere winter. There are vignettes of sharing tea with fellow Nepalis, seeing comrades fall, and finding pictures of wives and children in the pockets of dead young Argentine soldiers. Behind the prestige, honour and myths of being a Gurkha soldier, it seems this is just another job with nepotism, horrible bosses and bad pay. But such is the desperation that up to 20,000 young Nepalis still apply for 300 openings in the British Army every year. &nbsp;&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251227041256_694a253e782c83b0bf89fc1b9840b0ade3f7beca2d0b01dbc4fcd3e63c207f50.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251227041256_694a253e782c83b0bf89fc1b9840b0ade3f7beca2d0b01dbc4fcd3e63c207f50" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Triumph and tears book details NT"> </figure>

Not taking loyalty for granted

After a week of to-and-fro that culminated in all-night bargaining, two populist young figures in Nepali politics agreed at 4AM on Sunday to join forces ahead of elections in March. Rabi Lamichhane of the RSP, who came out of jail a week ago, has forged an alliance with Kathmandu mayor Balen Shah. Both are keen to ride on the GenZ wave that radically changed the direction of Nepal’s politics that has been dominated by three mainstream parties for the past three decades. Under the 7-point deal, Lamichhane will still head the RSP, while Shah has been promised prime ministership if the party wins a majority in the federal elections. Shah will also be the parliamentary party leader. The RSP will keep its name and election symbol. “Agreements must be made not on the basis of what leaders want, but on what the country needs,” Lamichhane wrote on social media announcing the alliance. The RSP chair is said to have put his own prime ministerial aspirations on hold to ensure the Kathmandu Mayor's support for the March polls. This is an alliance of convenience. Lamichhane requires the backing from Shah’s youth voters to face the legacy parties, while the mayor needs a political platform. Ultimately the prospect of leading not just Kathmandu but Nepal itself appears to have been the deciding factor for Balen Shah. The Kathmandu mayor is reportedly keen to contest the election from Jhapa against former prime minister K P Oli in his constituency.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251228041212_1b26fd7f14e418a9bdb827a7b733914c08183c36b4a93694fc1aefda9f45d85a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251228041212_1b26fd7f14e418a9bdb827a7b733914c08183c36b4a93694fc1aefda9f45d85a" data-rendition-name="original" width="900" height="900" loading="lazy" alt="Balen-Rabi alliance"> <figcaption>Photo: BALEN SHAH, RABI LAMICHHANE / FACEBOOK</figcaption> </figure>  The two have much in common. Lamichhane, a former tv anchor, returned from the United States and launched the RSP as an alternative party four months before elections in 2022. He served as Home Minister twice in Pushpa Kamal Dahal's coalition government before being jailed for defrauding cooperatives depositers. He made a jail break during the September protests, returned to prison voluntarily, and was released on bail last week. Balen Shah stood as an independent candidate for mayor of Kathmandu in local elections in 2022, and was catapulted to victory because of anti-incumbent protest votes among urban youth.&nbsp; Both campaigned on social media, pushing a populist anti-corruption agenda and against the governance failure of the three establishment parties — the same logic that drove the GenZ protests in September that escalated into violence and brought down the UML-NC coalition. Even as government buildings smouldered on 10 September, GenZ members were strongly urging Balen Shah to be the interim prime minister, but when he declined they voted on Discord for former chief justice Sushila Karki.&nbsp; With just over two months to go for elections on 5 March, Prime Minister Karki has been trying desperately to get the mainstream parties on board. She has met twice with the top leaders of the UML, NC and the NCP. All three parties have been dealing with internal power struggles, and the UML appears to be the most reluctant to face elections.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251228051212_d42944e014b278d6864270b74f924ac842d6f7a68d5bd6817148d120522ba60b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251228051212_d42944e014b278d6864270b74f924ac842d6f7a68d5bd6817148d120522ba60b" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="Sushila Karki with political leaders"> <figcaption>Prime Minister Sushila Karki has been meeting with leaders of the mainstream parties to get them on board for the election. Photo: PMO</figcaption> </figure>  The UML’s former prime minister K P Oli has refused summons by the Judicial Inquiry Commission charged with investigating the massacre of protesters on 8 September and the arson and vandalism the next day. Then home minister Ramesh Lekhak is scheduled to give his deposition to the Commission this week. The legacy parties appear to be taking the threat from the Rabi-Balen partnership strongly, and have been trying to forge an electoral alliance so they do not compete against each other.&nbsp; They are relying on traditional vote banks among the rural electorate, and calculate that alternative forces will cancel themselves out. They could also be hoping that Balen Shah’s erratic behaviour and Rabi Lamichhane’s prison conviction will put voters off. A total of 837,094 first-time voters have been registered in Nepal ahead of the elections.&nbsp; The Kathmandu mayor is an engineer and rap artist, and had till now been reclusive, preferring to post on social media rather than face the press. His late-night online posts have been impulsive: like the one urging that Singha Darbar be burnt down, or another one recently in which he used the f-word against the US, China, India and the mainstream parties. He later deleted both posts.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251228041212_a2f87881e36fb40b82bf77e1b07003aaf36b91e2a9eb5da096f1e562654c31e3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251228041212_a2f87881e36fb40b82bf77e1b07003aaf36b91e2a9eb5da096f1e562654c31e3" data-rendition-name="original" width="1112" height="1440" loading="lazy" alt="Balen Rabi agreement NT"> <figcaption>The seven-point agreement between Shah and Lamichhane. </figcaption> </figure>  Lamichane and Shah had also been negotiating with Energy Minister Kulman Ghising’s newly-forced Ujyalo Nepal Party, but the bargaining did not go well because Ghising refused to fight elections under the RSP banner. If the three had been successful in coming together, it would have been a formidable alliance. There are misgivings about the RSP-Balen Shah deal, even among some GenZ who see the two prominent men dividing up the power structure as just the kind of political culture they wanted to reform. Many are already predicting exactly the kind of clash of egos between the two alpha males that characterised Nepali politics since the restoration of democracy in 1990. In the coming days, as with most political change in Nepal, there will be much speculation about the geopolitics behind the Rabi-Balen deal. Balen Shah’s angry post against India-US-China as well as his past nationalistic pronouncements on Nepal’s territorial dispute with India over Kalapani will be recalled, while Beijing has misgivings about the antecedents of some GenZ figures. Dharan-mayor Harka Sampang, who has also formed his own political party, has already pronounced the Rabi-Balen deal as being “foreign backed”.

Old vs New in Nepal in 2026

Everyone in the world is running some kind of race. Some chase recognition. Some chase money. Others run simply to stay ahead of others. But there are some who run for others. They are not trying to overtake anyone, they do not do it for fame, they are not getting paid to do it. But they run to pay for the upliftment of those less privileged. Bal Joshi, 41, is originally from Surkhet. His father was involved in the democratic movement during the days of absolute monarchy and he remembers frequent police searches of the house. And with his father in hiding, the young Joshi had to take care of the family. When the family’s small shop failed, his mother took the young Bal and his brother back to the village, and that is where he completed his education, walking four hours roundtrip every day between home and school. He ran most of the way, and without realising it he has been running ever since. Life was hard. Rent, food, education. His mother struggled constantly. There were days when there was no money even to buy kerosene for the stove. At one point, he sold his calculator, worth Rs 300, for just Rs 80 to get by.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251229031252_edb16b64a3d362a8dc86870bfa5deaad03a84e67d47f37cfd0bb5a8e584691fe.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251229031252_edb16b64a3d362a8dc86870bfa5deaad03a84e67d47f37cfd0bb5a8e584691fe" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Running for dear life NT"> </figure>  At 15, Joshi moved to Nepalganj to continue his education. He initially stayed with his uncles, but eventually began living on his own. The transition to city life was difficult, and he experienced significant economic hardship while trying to pursue his studies. There were times when he struggled to meet basic needs, and at one point he sold his calculator just to get by. When he was 17, after hearing that his father was seriously ill, Joshi travelled to Gujarat to bring him back home. His father died soon after, and Joshi took on responsibility for supporting his family. It was his mother who taught him that despite scarcity, life had to be lived with dignity. Joshi started working at a newspaper at the age of 16 as a proofreader, and later became a journalist. During the Maoist war when children were being orphaned as a result of violence by both sides, he became active in the Sahara Group, and at 19, he began managing an orphanage that took in conflict-affected children. In Bajhang, after the army killed a man on suspicion of being a Maoist, his wife jumped into the Seti River and ended her life. Their two children were taken into army custody. During the rescue process, Joshi met Sunaina Adhikari of the ICRC and back in Nepalganj they decided to get married. The conflict was still raging in western Nepal in 2005, when Joshi went to the United States. In Maryland, he initially worked at a Bengali-owned Subway outlet, spending long hours on his feet behind the counter. He changed jobs frequently, financing his education along the way, and ultimately graduated with a degree in finance in 2008. He joined Hancock Whitney Bank in Texas, and has risen up the ranks to be Senior Vice President. A colleague inspired him to run as a way to stay healthy. But it soon turned into something more meaningful — running more than a dozen 50km marathons for charity.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251229031252_165a6d935860cf6707178aa2ac7395733883158f425bbe0ebed125529d601f61.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251229031252_165a6d935860cf6707178aa2ac7395733883158f425bbe0ebed125529d601f61" data-rendition-name="original" width="999" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Running for dear life NT"> </figure>  Last year, Joshi returned to Nepal to run the Everest Marathon, and raised $42,000 which he donated to <a href="https://onestepfoundation.org/" target="_blank">One Step Foundation</a> which works on health care, child welfare and cultural preservation in Nepal and around the world. In June this year, Joshi and his family climbed Kilimanjaro, raising $19,000 for 80 HIV-affected orphaned children in Tanzania. During the Diwali festival he ran 220km in Nevada’s Red Canyon and raised $25,000 for cataract surgeries through the the <a href="https://www.theruitfoundation.org/" target="_blank">Ruit Foundation</a> in Nepal for cataract surgeries.&nbsp; Joshi does not run competitions, and is not trying to break any records. His motto is: “My race, my pace.”&nbsp; Turning his childhood scarcity into helping others, he says: “We all share sunlight, rain, air, and soil, nothing is truly just your own. I grew up without shoes, and I am fortunate to be able to distribute shoes to those who walk barefoot.” We ask Bal Joshi what (and where) next? His answer: the <a href="https://www.worldmarathonchallenge.com/" target="_blank">World Marathon Challenge</a> that will go around the world to run seven marathons in seven continents in seven days beginning in Antarctica at end-January.&nbsp; Joshi aims to run wearing the daura suruwal and Nepal’s flag as to show where he comes from, and how far in life he has come.

Running for dear life

The Narayani River in Chitwan National Park is at only 180m above sea level, but &nbsp;on a rare clear day last week visitors could see the summit of 7,893m-high Himalchuli right across Nepal, 150km away.&nbsp; Upstream, the Trisuli, Seti and Kali Gandaki &nbsp;join to form the Narayani in a catchment stretching 46,300 sq km from Dhaulagiri to Langtang — spanning one-third of Nepal’s area.&nbsp; Glaciers up in those mountains, and even a part of the Tibetan Plateau, feed the Narayani. To see the snows and river together underscores the need to regard the Himalaya not just as a mountain range, but as a composite watershed. This delicate balance between mountains and plains is now destabilised by climate breakdown. &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251225111216_105ddc802eb5742227d62687c003bfdb1f3c55faba2c6352b29c2a83123247e7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251225111216_105ddc802eb5742227d62687c003bfdb1f3c55faba2c6352b29c2a83123247e7" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="2268" loading="lazy" alt="People, naturally"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251224141228_b4c2c51021e6a21e6d87c748ba8eb6401827ad69d44953af842859c6839350c1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251224141228_b4c2c51021e6a21e6d87c748ba8eb6401827ad69d44953af842859c6839350c1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1778" loading="lazy" alt="Chitwan National Park NT"> </figure>  “The climate crisis is a water issue. It is not just about this river, but the mountains and the glaciers we can see from,” said Adil Najam, President of the World Wildlife Fund International during a visit to Chitwan last week. “Water is going to be a frontline climate issue not only for Nepal but for the world itself. This crisis is not long-term, it is immediate-term.” Water from the Narayani, Rapti and other rivers have been vital in shaping the conservation success story of Chitwan National Park. But Nepal’s oldest nature reserve now suffers from either too much water during monsoon floods, or too little in the dry season as a result of extreme weather caused by climate breakdown. Insufficient recharge of aquifers and over-extraction of groundwater have caused oxbow lakes and wildlife watering holes inside the Park to dry up, and solar-powered pumps have been installed to replenish some of them.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251224141228_97cb5c51d38d4cc038fbaa305eca8e7096d2a58e573ee016fa7e2b9972e67f62.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251224141228_97cb5c51d38d4cc038fbaa305eca8e7096d2a58e573ee016fa7e2b9972e67f62" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Chitwan National Park NT"> </figure>  Nepal tripled its tiger population to nearly 400 in the past 14 years, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/close-encounter-of-the-wild-kind-in-nepal?fbclid=IwY2xjawFomglleHRuA2FlbQIxMQABHd0IT1aTm1ugPsScRVjFSOQKx4trJC1QolMquJH-VcPA3Dsuc7J8twvEtg_aem_oRrHg17T6T0bQzRqU0AvgA" target="_blank">rhino numbers have rebounded to 752</a> with near-zero poaching for the past decade, and vulture species have been rescued from the brink of extinction — all this largely due to the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/on-the-tri-junction-of-wildlife-conservation-conflict-and-co-existence" target="_blank">efforts of local communities in the buffer zones</a> of parks like Chitwan. “The biodiversity here was protected because conservation has been collaborative,” said <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepal-s-tharu-are-tiger-protectors" target="_blank">Birendra Mahato</a>, an elected member of the Ratnanagar ward adjacent to the Park. “This <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/parks-plus-people" target="_blank">involvement of people in the buffer zone</a>, including us from the indigenous communities, has <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepal-s-tharu-are-tiger-protectors" target="_blank">helped reduce poaching and human-wildlife conflict</a>.” The <a href="http://www.apple.com/" target="_blank">Tharu, Bote and Musahar</a> <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepal-s-tharu-are-tiger-protectors" target="_blank">indigenous groups that used to live inside what is now the national park</a> followed traditional practices that took into account the behaviour of tigers, rhinos and wild elephants. There were few fatal wildlife attacks.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251226141228_d7c2df18d98d99c32d63ccce53edbe48a36a6a65612e3042f7e93b646f9d86ee.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20251226141228_d7c2df18d98d99c32d63ccce53edbe48a36a6a65612e3042f7e93b646f9d86ee" data-rendition-name="original" width="828" height="693" loading="lazy" alt="CNP map"> </figure>  “We need to revive that traditional knowledge so there is human-wildlife coexistence, not conflict,” Mahato added.&nbsp; And communities living in the buffer zone will only protect wildlife if they see a benefit from saving them. The proven way to ensure that coexistence is through well-managed and sustainable tourism that lifts local living standards. The village of Amaltari along the Narayani river has several high-end resorts that employ local people as nature guides, hotel staff and cultural groups performing for tourists. Besides these, the village has 35 women-led homestays where visitors can experience indigenous culture, food and lifestyle.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251224141228_759ae97bf2c2f0365e1340cb8468cd9fc44ae735d50a1c76ce92d4651cb08da1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20251224141228_759ae97bf2c2f0365e1340cb8468cd9fc44ae735d50a1c76ce92d4651cb08da1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Chitwan National Park NT"> </figure>  “Lifting living standards is the most effective way to ensure nature conservation, and this means protecting authentic local heritage to generate income from tourism,” Adil Najam said (Interview, below). Tourists come to the buffer zone in the western edge of Chitwan National Park in Amaltari for safaris to see tigers, rhinos, the vulture conservation site, or to float down the river to watch the gharial, crocodiles and migratory birds. Chitwan National Park saw 300,000 visitors last year, with Nepalis now outnumbering foreign tourists. Gita Mahato runs one of the Amaltari homestays and admits that it was not easy in the beginning to ensure that the quality of service was up to mark, and business suffered during and after the pandemic. “But now we have more experience and confidence, our incomes have gone up, and it has restored pride in our culture and helped protect nature,” she added. “It is like a fairy tale.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251225111216_e136c9d7242193503080782d916209f8223d9c74079180b49c099083c27e4b09.jpg" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20251225111216_e136c9d7242193503080782d916209f8223d9c74079180b49c099083c27e4b09" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="People, naturally"> <figcaption>Vulture feeding at Jatayu which has rescued the raptors from the brink of extinction. </figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251224141228_58a4185f90c35a47806a077a19e7f24d8a9635ac45e8ce457f03a7604ba534b5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_13" data-image-id="20251224141228_58a4185f90c35a47806a077a19e7f24d8a9635ac45e8ce457f03a7604ba534b5" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Chitwan National Park NT"> </figure>  Improved living standards have impacted other social aspects: there are schools, children have better nutrition, child marriage has gone down, no one is stealing electricity with hooks anymore, and there are now three beauty parlours in Amaltari.&nbsp; WWF Nepal helped with seed money to set up the local Hamar Cooperative, which ploughs tourism income into a savings scheme that lends to members. There are no defaulters, and the indigenous <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/parks-by-the-people-and-for-the-people" target="_blank">Musahar, Bote and Tharu</a> households now have savings. The municipality has built electric fences to protect the rice and mustard fields from wildlife, and this has eliminated fatalities here from tiger attacks. The community’s Anti-poaching Youth Group and the Park’s military have increased vigilance after the jailbreak of notorious wildlife traffickers in September.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251224141228_3cff4bdf947bbcb070fe584ab628fb1b79cec047236e56a4486070f8f66ae42d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_15" data-image-id="20251224141228_3cff4bdf947bbcb070fe584ab628fb1b79cec047236e56a4486070f8f66ae42d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Chitwan National Park NT"> </figure>  Chitwan and other <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/on-the-tri-junction-of-wildlife-conservation-conflict-and-co-existence" target="_blank">national parks and buffer zones</a> across Nepal are conducting a massive tiger census this week, installing 1,100 camera traps. The cameras also help to curb poaching, and the total tiger population is expected to exceed 400. Says Ghana Gurung from WWF Nepal: “This is the best example that protecting one charismatic species that is at the top of the food chain helps to protect biodiversity and the entire ecosystems.” <h2>“Water is the frontline climate issue”</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251225111216_8bf2b772f726c8f9eb11cc5b79f5c9c8afa115ee0eb170e69f52bf07a6a1e222.jpg" data-media-id="editor_17" data-image-id="20251225111216_8bf2b772f726c8f9eb11cc5b79f5c9c8afa115ee0eb170e69f52bf07a6a1e222" data-rendition-name="original" width="1619" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="People, naturally"> <figcaption>Adil Najam with young Buffer Zone forest guides.</figcaption> </figure>  World Wildlife Fund International President Adil Najam was in Chitwan last week, and spoke to Ghana Gurung of WWF Nepal. Ghana Gurung: What are your impressions after visiting Chitwan National Park? Adil Najam: I always knew Nepal was special, and the work of WWF Nepal was special, but I just didn’t realise how special. Seeing the work first hand in Chitwan with species protection, zero-poaching and, most importantly, how to work with communities, particularly with indigenous communities so that we turn this rhetoric of nature vs people into truly a bridge of nature and people. Meeting members of indigenous communities and conservation officials, seeing their sense of pride about what has been achieved was very motivating.&nbsp; So much of what you are doing here in Nepal is relevant to the UN’s SDG goals and WWF’s own 2030 roadmap — especially our core work on species. The challenges are great, but we do not take enough time to appreciate the achievements. We haven’t got to where we want to yet, but we are much further down the road. Tigers have almost tripled, rhinos more than tripled, zero poaching for many years, and all of this with a grassroots approach working with communities. It is not always easy, their concerns are real, but working with them as partners shows that conservation and people do not need to be contradictions.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251225111216_988386ce4e292ca298d9546035cb5e51f4b0c4bed3c6069b269360c2c1d3c98e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_18" data-image-id="20251225111216_988386ce4e292ca298d9546035cb5e51f4b0c4bed3c6069b269360c2c1d3c98e" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="2268" loading="lazy" alt="People, naturally"> </figure>  You mention challenges. What are some of the difficulties ahead? When you are working at a high level, the first challenge is keeping it at that level. Unfortunately global challenges like climate change, biodiversity loss are now so great that we have to multiply our efforts multiple times. Nepal also needs to share what you do here with the rest of the world. Unless we learn from each other, we are not going to solve the planetary crises. I was very happy to see how much the youth are involved in Nepal’s conservation effort, but the challenge will be how to get young people excited about conservation with an aspiration to do more.&nbsp; Yes, we try to work more with the youth. What were some of the other highlights of the trip? Clearly, one of the outstanding highlights was the visit to the homestay collective run by indigenous communities, particularly that they are women-led and they have become entrepreneurial, learning new ways to work with nature, designing new livelihoods, by having guests who enjoy nature. The homestay program in Nepal really has ownership and links nature and people.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251224141228_d8d27836a3d549713d2ff80687c32c2f7723a1c5bd778833852d0216a447b4f7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_19" data-image-id="20251224141228_d8d27836a3d549713d2ff80687c32c2f7723a1c5bd778833852d0216a447b4f7" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Chitwan National Park NT"> </figure>  Nepal is one of the most climate vulnerable countries in the world. What were some of the impacts you noticed?&nbsp; I think every country now is climate vulnerable. For the developing world, it is a a compounded challenge not only because they were not responsible for the problem, but also because we now face its consequences. Because the world has not done very much on mitigation, the challenges have become more difficult. Besides carbon mitigation, we need to focus on adaptation and address the issue of water.&nbsp; Climate in the age of adaptation essentially becomes a water issue, and Chitwan has done well to protect its fresh water habitats. It is not just about these rivers, but the mountains and the glaciers we can see from here that feed them. We have compartmentalised problems: this is climate, this is biodiversity, that is plastic. That is not how nature works. There is no solution to the climate challenge without dealing with nature, and vice versa. So, water is going to be a frontline climate issue not only for Nepal but for the world itself. Leadership on climate will have to rest with countries like Nepal in demonstrating ways to build climate resilience. And resilience resides in people. Given this, what are the strategies we need going forward? We are seeing resource constraints, and that is not news. But beyond that many of the biggest challenges of our time are at threshold or beyond threshold level — whether they are climate related, loss of nature, or water stress, etc. We are at this pivotal point, and I hope we will invent better ways on how to deal with these crises. As you already do in Nepal, we have to look at ecosystems as integrated and connected, where doing good for one thing has a positive impact on another. We know that with species here in Chitwan — if one species does well, a whole bunch of others also benefit.&nbsp; &nbsp;And like you do here, we have to work in partnerships with communities, conservation people, other international organisations, the private sector. This is not the time for finding your corner and hiding in it. This is a planetary problem, and we need a 8 billion people solution.&nbsp; And the writing on the wall in Nepal and elsewhere is that young people are the key to the present and the future. It is really their world. We have to create an environment in which they can thrive to reach their own potential. And we have to give them the sense that although things are difficult, if we do the right things there are solutions. 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/20251224141220_30c3782f9c09219bf1c249b51483a3cfb7a53a06d117d2aebd23ca7080d12758.jpg" data-media-id="editor_23" data-image-id="20251224141220_30c3782f9c09219bf1c249b51483a3cfb7a53a06d117d2aebd23ca7080d12758" data-rendition-name="original" width="680" height="103" loading="lazy" alt="SDG"> </figure>