Between mid-June and mid-October alone, almost 37,500 Nepalis left for the UAE for jobs, placing it among the top destination countries. Many of these workers will likely be engaged in the delivery of the COP28 Climate Summit that will ironically be held in the UAE, the world’s fifth <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-s-greenwashing-in-glasgow">biggest</a> exporter of refined petroleum, with the head of the Abu Dhabi National Oil Company (ADNOC) service as conference president. Prime Minister Pushpa Kamal Dahal will lead the Nepali delegation.Migrant workers form <a href="https://worldmigrationreport.iom.int/wmr-2022-interactive/">88% of the UAE population</a>, so one cannot talk about COP28 or the UAE by ignoring migration. For Nepal, too, the climate crisis and the migration economy are linked.<a href="https://www.hrw.org/news/2023/11/21/uae-migrant-worker-abuses-linked-broader-climate-harms">New research</a> by Human Rights Watch (HRW) states that the COP28 host’s role in climate injustice goes beyond it being one of the largest fossil fuel producers and among the highest per capita emitters. It also relates to its treatment of migrant workers. HRW interviewed 151 current and former migrant workers and their families from Bangladesh, Pakistan and Nepal. Despite negligible per capita greenhouse gas emissions, the three countries are among the most climate vulnerable and have suffered extreme weather and slow-onset events linked to climate change.&nbsp; The climate impact countries like Nepal face should also be considered from the perspective of their mobile populations in the UAE and other countries. Migrant workers are exposed to extreme heat with inadequate protection, and because widespread abuse like wage theft and exorbitant recruitment fees limit the ability of workers to send home remittances, including during climate-linked emergencies. Dubai’s maximum temperature on some days <a href="https://www.khaleejtimes.com/uae/weather/uae-temperatures-cross-50oc-for-first-time-this-summer">exceeded</a> 50 Celsius this summer, and the UAE itself is vulnerable to heat stress due to atmospheric warming.The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) has said that the Gulf <a href="https://www.ipcc.ch/report/ar6/wg2/downloads/report/IPCC_AR6_WGII_Chapter10.pdf">states’</a> wet bulb globe temperature (WBGT) is ‘expected to approach, and possibly exceed, the physiological threshold for human adaptability (35°C) by the end of the century’. Migrant workers, including Nepalis, are disproportionately exposed.The most common heat mitigation strategy used in the Gulf including the UAE are ‘summer midday bans’ that stop outdoor work in the afternoons for a few hours. But a <a href="https://oem.bmj.com/content/80/6/347">study</a> in <a href="https://oem.bmj.com/content/80/6/347">Kuwait</a> found that despite the ban there was a substantial increase in the risk of occupational injuries associated with extremely hot temperatures. Another <a href="https://www.researchgate.net/publication/333293731_Assessment_of_Heat_Stress_Exposure_among_Construction_Workers_in_the_Hot_Desert_Climate_of_Saudi_Arabia">study </a>found that the highest heat intensity for workers in Saudi Arabia was from 9 am to noon, while the ban is in effect between noon and 3 pm. HRW’s research recommends that the UAE move away from arbitrary, calendar-based midday bans towards risk-based measures such as the WBGT.&nbsp; Heat is a health hazard. It can exacerbate pre-existing conditions, impair cognitive function, and increase the risk of workplace injuries and long-term illnesses like end-stage renal failures. Dialysis rooms across Nepal that are filled with Gulf returnees. &nbsp; HRW’s <a href="https://www.hrw.org/video-photos/interactive/2023/11/21/migrant-workers-bear-the-brunt-of-uae-extreme-heat">research</a> follows three dialysis patients who are all UAE returnees describing how they did not get support from the UAE. The Nepal government provides dialysis for free, but the cost of medicines, injections, and transportation add up. Chitrakala, the wife of a dialysis patient, Til, who accompanies him to the hospital multiple times a week for his dialysis says, “In some ways, I find it comforting to be at the hospital because in the waiting room, I realise I am not alone. It is not just my family that is facing this.”&nbsp; Another UAE returnee, Purna, says it is after he frequented the dialysis centre that he realised that kidney failure is common among migrant worker returnees. The situation will worsen in a changing climate. “The UAE is externalising their own climate risks onto migrant workers who are labouring under woefully inadequate protections. These workers often experience chronic health harms linked to extreme heat, and then return home without any compensation from the UAE and instead let countries like Nepal bear all the serious health costs like dialysis treatment,” says Michael Page of HRW.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20231124031152_7daf43db2cba93c6e81c6607aa61d07d3f3fbd4e2b338aadd2aaa4720828cb76.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20231124031152_7daf43db2cba93c6e81c6607aa61d07d3f3fbd4e2b338aadd2aaa4720828cb76" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="2268" loading="lazy" alt="COP28 and migtants NT"> </figure>  There are other labour abuses like wage theft and exorbitant recruitment fees that also contribute to climate injustice, the HRW report argues. Climate emergencies back home exacerbate the mental stress of wage theft and recruitment debt as families in Nepal are in increasingly dire and even life-threatening situations.&nbsp; Workers HRW spoke to who were unable to send remittances because of labour abuses spoke of the dilemma they face: their families lose both critical financial support and the help they could have provided for urgent tasks like rebuilding damaged property had they stayed home. But for many, even exiting the UAE with outstanding recruitment debts or unpaid wages during such climate emergencies posed a challenge. Workers had to pay fees to retrieve their passports including by obtaining ‘reverse remittances’ on loan from families back home already reeling from life-threatening climate emergencies. Good migration can be transformative, but bad migration can be devastating for families. To be sure, remittances have been critical for economies of Nepal and other South Asian countries, but they do not substitute their responsibility. Historical and major greenhouse gas emitters also have a duty to support communities heavily impacted by the climate crisis. <a href="https://www.knomad.org/sites/default/files/publication-doc/migration_development_brief_38_june_2023_0.pdf">Remittances</a> are equivalent to a quarter of Nepal’s GDP, while Pakistan and Bangladesh are among the top 10 remittance recipients globally. Remittances have also been a lifeline including post-earthquake and during Covid. But these numbers mask the individual experiences of migrant workers and their families who face abuses and many of whom end up in financially worse situations than they did pre-migration. Virtually all migrant workers pay hefty fees for jobs which itself creates a huge dent on the returns to migration while excluding some of the poorest communities from even attempting to migrate. But even that does not guarantee a good job. The July 2021 <a href="https://www.icimod.org/article/the-melamchi-flood-disaster/">Melamchi flood</a> was a climate-induced disaster in Nepal, and one of its victims told HRW researchers: “During the flood, all we wanted was to save our lives. We survived, but we lost everything. The flood finished us.”His wife is headed to the UAE for a waitressing job which cost her Rs &nbsp;200,000, and borrowed at 24% annual interest. If all goes well, her first year’s salary of a mere $262 a month will just go to repay the loan. Another Sindhupalchok returnee from the UAE said, “Whether climate change or not, we have to migrate. We used to be self-sufficient but now have to buy food. Yields are lower. Insects and diseases are more common.” Climate change can be a compounding factor for longstanding emigration such as from Nepal to the Gulf, and adds to the burden of past, present and future migrant workers. The UAE is also being criticized for its restrictions on civil society and free expression during COP28. The HRW research states these affect migrant workers by limiting their ability to raise workplace concerns and seek structural, worker-centered reforms. The government’s opacity around <a href="https://pomeps.org/climate-the-environment-and-health-of-migrant-workers-lessons-from-kuwait">health data</a> hampers research for <a href="https://vitalsignsproject.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/06/Vital_signs_3_online.pdf">evidence-based</a> policymaking including for better outdoor protections, while academics and journalists tend to <a href="https://www.hrw.org/news/2021/10/01/uae-tolerance-narrative-sham-0">self-censor</a> to avoid reprisals. At the COP 28 in Dubai, Prime Minister Dahal would do well to dwell on the links between the host country and increasing climate vulnerability that Nepalis face both at home from weather extremes and heat stress at their workplaces in the UAE.

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Too hot to work

Migrant workers returning from the Gulf and Malaysia make up 40% of infertility cases at Paropakar Maternity and Women's Hospital in Kathmandu. Studies have highlighted the problem of sterility among men who have<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/news/caring-for-nepals-women"> returned from working abroad</a> in extreme temperatures and are prone to unhealthy lifestyles including smoking and alcohol consumption. Sarlahi resident Sanjeev Sah had gone to Saudi Arabia for work just a year into his marriage. Concerned about his wife having to raise a child alone during his absence, 32-year-old Sah and his wife postponed their plans for a baby. Three years later after his return, the couple has not been able to conceive. They sought treatment at Paropakar Hospital in Thapathali. Sah was diagnosed with azoospermia, with no measurable sperm count. “Doctors told me that working in high temperatures abroad reduced the quality of my sperm,” says Sah. Suraj Adhikari from Dhading worked in Malaysia for three years, He married at 28 but was unable to conceive with his wife and was also diagnosed with azoospermia at an infertility clinic. Adhikari worked at a construction site in Malaysia which left him little time for basics such as food and water. Despite<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/news/gulf-workers-need-protection-from-heat"> extremely high temperatures</a>, he often went without water for prolonged periods because it was not always available. Doctors blame his time and lifestyle for the decline in his sperm quality. “Neglecting essentials while working abroad has led to a costly and time-consuming treatment for me,” Adhikari laments.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230903040916_17d0de92dd3eb03aa0e268ca5e30187ad21900f10f86f1bc6b7e9cc7ca1d540b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20230903040916_17d0de92dd3eb03aa0e268ca5e30187ad21900f10f86f1bc6b7e9cc7ca1d540b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="Migrant infertility NT"> </figure>  Infertility is on the rise, globally and in Nepal. This is especially true for <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/migration-not-a-wish-but-necessity-for-nepalis">workers returning</a> from the Gulf and Malaysia, having worked in hotter temperatures. Half of the patients with childlessness visiting the outpatient department at Paropakar Maternity and Women's Hospital every day are migrant returnees. “Working conditions with high temperatures reduces the quality and quantity of sperm in young men,” confirms Vinita Thapa, sperm specialist at the hospital. Shree Prasad Adhikari, the director of Paropakar Maternity and an infertility pathologist, notes that 25 out of every 100 couples face infertility presently, and the problem has now grown particularly among those returning from foreign employment. Two years ago, Tribhuvan University Teaching Hospital conducted tests on 186 men seeking infertility treatment at the institute. Of these, 46.2% had previously worked in the Gulf. The research report, published in the journal PubMed, revealed low sperm quantity and quality in some cases as well as a very low number of sperm capable of fertilising eggs in others. According to the WHO, one in every six adults, or 17.5% of the world’s population suffers from infertility. In Nepal, where children are seen as a form of security and add to the social prestige, infertility can have far-reaching implications. An increase in infertility could also be a contributing factor to an ultimate decline in <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/counting-on-nepal">population</a> together with delayed marriages. And yet, assisted reproductive technologies such as in vitro fertilisation (IVF) remain financially inaccessible and carry social stigma for many individuals.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230903040916_fc6932b9f60d4f08e3c9834b4e141afba4d939726f297f9d4f1bcd8a674ebb23.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20230903040916_fc6932b9f60d4f08e3c9834b4e141afba4d939726f297f9d4f1bcd8a674ebb23" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="Migrant infertility NT"> </figure>  A study by the Hebrew University of Israel and Mount Sinai School of Medicine in the US found that the average sperm count globally has decreased by half over the past 50 years. The study also revealed a decline in sperm quality, including a decrease in the number of sperm capable of fertilising eggs. Between the 1970s and 1990s, the rate of sperm count decline increased from 1.16% per year to 2.64% by the early 2000s. Paropakar Maternity and Women's Hospital introduced a semen storage service in June, allowing Nepalis to preserve semen and eggs if they require delayed childbirth. For instance, young individuals going abroad for a long time can <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/freezing-a-future-family-IVF-embryo-surrogacy,3881">store semen for reproduction</a> upon their return. Additionally, if the husband is absent, the wife can undergo artificial insemination using the stored semen, a technique called intrauterine insemination (IUI). In the IUI process, women are given medication and injections to stimulate egg production. Once mature eggs are produced, they are released through an injection. About 36-40 hours after releasing the eggs, a viable sperm is selected and placed into the uterus using a catheter, explains sperm specialist Thapa. The hospital is performing IUI on four to five women on a daily basis, at Rs5,000-10,000 per procedure. If pregnancy doesn’t occur after six IUI attempts, IVF is recommended. Adds Thapa: “Many are not aware but 90% of couples facing childlessness can be treated.” Since the introduction of the storage service in June, 15 couples have inquired but only two couples have agreed to store semen. The maternity home is also launching semen and egg donation programs wherein women having difficulty producing eggs can use donor eggs and the husband’s sperm. Similarly, when their husband’s sperm isn’t viable, the wife’s egg can be combined with donor semen for insemination.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230903040916_bb962f67de4e8325418117724d37ab0d9cc744195c68224e45973832aad89be1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20230903040916_bb962f67de4e8325418117724d37ab0d9cc744195c68224e45973832aad89be1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="Migrant infertility NT"> </figure>  “The stored semen remains effective for almost six years, retaining 60% of its initial quality,” assures Thapa. But more often than not, most childless couples fail to seek medical attention on time, resorting instead to shamans, witch doctors, and other ineffective measures. <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-s-first-human-milk-bank">Paropakar </a>is the sole government facility providing effective treatment for childlessness at present. Hospitals often lack counselling services. Infertility treatment depends on the underlying cause ranging from pharmaceuticals to embryo implantation through assisted reproductive technologies (ART). Some 80-90% of childless couples can find solutions through regular treatment, says Paropakar director Adhikari. He adds that weight loss could be a solution for obese women struggling with infertility. In the case of blocked fallopian tubes, there are medications. For those with uterine tissue growth causing pregnancy complications, surgery can help their chances. But while normal medication can stimulate egg production, up to 50% of women facing infertility lack viable eggs. “Some older women might have reduced fertility despite having eggs. In such cases, medications and hormones can increase their capacity,” says Adhikari, adding that the government doesn’t need as much resources to fight infertility as much as it needs commitment. Treatment needs to be scaled up to reach all the district hospitals so that couples can easily access artificial insemination and other services while also promoting awareness and reducing the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/maybe-baby">stigma associated with childlessness</a> in Nepal. The fact that migrant workers who are in every sense the backbone of Nepal’s economy don't have access to treatment means it is even more crucial that infertility, the stigma and the treatment are prioritised and effectively addressed. &nbsp;

Migrants returning from the Gulf with infertility

The Kathmandu Valley has attracted an exceptional number of outstanding and accomplished foreigners over the decades, but few as extraordinary as Marilyn Silverstone (1929-1999).&nbsp; Frances Klatzel’s book A Portrait of Ourselves, Marilyn Silverstone: From Photojournalist to Buddhist Nun, is a fitting and fascinating biographical celebration of this American woman whose life of unusual choices took her, as the title suggests, from an affluent Jewish childhood in Scarsdale, New York to becoming an acclaimed and adventurous Magnum photographer.&nbsp; Roving the world, her camera captured many of the most iconic events of the 20th century, her images were published in Time, Life, Newsweek, Look, National Geographic, Paris Match, Vogue and other magazines. Following the teachings of Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche, Marilyn Silverstone devoted the last twenty years of her eventful life to living quietly and practising Buddhism in Nepal. Ordained as a Buddhist nun, she took vows in the sanctified Solukhumbu precincts of Thubten Choling with Venerable Trulshik Rinpoche in the spring of 1977. Living in Kathmandu until her death in Shechen Monastery, which she helped create, Marilyn wrote: ‘When I look back over the years, although I did not know it at the time, ending my life as a Buddhist nun was logical and inevitable.’&nbsp; Ani Marilyn was a familiar figure amid the sacred spaces of the Valley, the lanes of Boudha and even Kathmandu’s drawing rooms during my early years in Nepal, a large smiling presence draped in maroon robes, dyed sneakers, slightly whiskered, robust.&nbsp; As a wedding gift she gave Tenzin and I an inscribed copy of her slim volume, Ocean of Life, aptly named for the span of her achievements and expansive embrace – editor, translator, writer, filmmaker, photographer, journalist and Buddhist nun. Marilyn’s nephew wrote: ‘Her legacy was that she was always herself no matter what chapter of her life that she was living.’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122100124_70d489c3d161f59668f315ede60cbb213d365357b0a9f2d7aad3b537a14dcb5e.png" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260122100124_70d489c3d161f59668f315ede60cbb213d365357b0a9f2d7aad3b537a14dcb5e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1164" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Ani Marilyn"> <figcaption>Ani Marilyn as a Tibetan Buddhist nun at Shechen Monastery in Boudha.</figcaption> </figure>  Working with a wide range of impeccable sources, Frances Klatzel has assembled first-hand the personal recollections and unsparing insights from Marilyn’s most intimate friends. One of these, Jane Abell Coon, wrote the Introduction. She was a well-known person in 1980s Kathmandu whose husband Carlton Coon served as American Ambassador to Nepal and she simultaneously as American Ambassador in Bangladesh.&nbsp; The book begins with a rare message from the 14th Dalai Lama and a touching Foreword by Venerable Rabjam Rinpoche. It ends with exquisite excerpts from a Buddhist religious tract that Marilyn had translated from its traditional Tibetan text. Marilyn’s initial trip to India was to photograph Ravi Shankar in 1955, the classical sitar maestro. Increasingly fascinated by ‘the complex and compassionate culture’ of Tibet, her Himalayan archives include images throughout India, Nepal, Sikkim and Bhutan.&nbsp; The first internationally accredited photojournalist to base herself in India, from 1959 Marilyn lived in Bombay then Delhi, with her lifelong partner Frank Moraes, the Goan journalist, writer, commentator and first Indian editor of the Times of India after Independence. INDIAN INFLUENCERS I remember being taken to meet the legendary Frank Moraes in 1973, by then politically exiled in Marilyn’s elegant but chaotic London house, a magnet for South Asian intellectuals. She was not there, but Frank’s son the poet Dom Moraes was slumped desultory on a sagging sofa. My impression of Frank was well-dressed, polite and slightly distracted. Marilyn’s talent for friendship and wide network of Indian influencers and princely connections gave her unique access to historic events, as well as recording refugees, rituals, droughts, floods, famines and funerals. In addition to maharajahs and global leaders, her images portray personal moments, ordinary people, unflinching pain and flashes of joy. She said: ‘In my job, the closer you get to people, the better off you are.’ This book is illustrated with a thrilling trove of pictures of and by Marilyn, many of which reflect the impact of Henri Cartier-Bresson who signed her up as one of the first women to join his prestigious Magnum photo cooperative.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122100124_6dfdef41da5945aea0a8bbd8c1514af5de2adb36361d4e20c29914c59f2039e0.png" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260122100124_6dfdef41da5945aea0a8bbd8c1514af5de2adb36361d4e20c29914c59f2039e0" data-rendition-name="original" width="2124" height="1404" loading="lazy" alt="Ani Marilyn"> </figure>  Her assignments ranged across warzones in Vietnam, the Shah of Iran’s coronation, and Russian tanks rolling into Prague. Marilyn’s 1960s involved constant travel, her Magnum beat was the ‘Far East’, from Pakistan and Bangladesh to China, Korea, and Japan.&nbsp; With a knack at being in the right place at the right time, Marilyn was the only western woman journalist to record the arrival from Lhasa into ‘safety and exile’ of the young Dalai Lama in 1959. She was at Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru’s funeral in Delhi, the Chogyal of Sikkim’s marriage to Hope Cooke, and with Jacqueline Kennedy on a small boat at the Lake Palace of Udaipur.&nbsp; Marilyn snapped the Pope giving blessings in Bombay, Mother Teresa attending to the poor, and the Beatles on their way to meet the Maharishi. With Frank, she travelled to Africa and shot Emperor Haile Selassie in Ethiopia, Nigeria’s independence celebrations, and a very old and solar-topied Dr Albert Schweitzer in his jungle hospital in Gabon.&nbsp; A Portrait of Ourselves, Marilyn Silverstone: From Photojournalist to Buddhist Nun, is a highly recommended tribute to an inspirational life, told with discerning honesty and private perceptions by those who knew her best.&nbsp; Her monastic years living in Nepal continued to feature travel, hard work, undiminished curiosity, dogged fights for right, uncompromising support for others, disdain for conformity and battles with ill health, but all with her characteristic good humour. Marilyn leaves us with some sound advice in her own words: “I can say that I did it all. The secret though is just keep walking through life without analysing it too much or clinging to it too much. Just walk on.” &nbsp;&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122100140_dc0c465e462bd14e92b2a2e79b5349f23fa039bcda81cc02a9a70adbcee35c7b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260122100140_dc0c465e462bd14e92b2a2e79b5349f23fa039bcda81cc02a9a70adbcee35c7b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="marilyn silverstone"> </figure>

“Just walk on”

The pale green ice on the top of the lake gleams in the pale January sunlight. The dark waters beneath are visible through the translucent frozen surface. This is Thulagi Glacial Lake at the foot of Mt Manaslu in central Nepal, classified as one of the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/danger-nepal-s-glacial-lakes-are-filling-up">most dangerous lakes </a>to appear in the Himalaya due to climate heating.&nbsp; The place is breathtaking not just because of its 4,050m altitude, but the scenery all around. The beauty belies the threat this expanding lake poses downstream along the Marsyangdi Valley. &nbsp; The lake lies at the terminus of the 4.5km long Thulagi Glacier. The local Gurung inhabitants call it Dona Tal. They say it started appearing in the 1960s. Local guide Chandra Bahadur Gurung, 47, has been ferrying trekkers to the spot for about 20 years.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122100136_a34407fbb58b41554f08d392933ea32360649deaf712e2221686533f81507f58.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260122100136_a34407fbb58b41554f08d392933ea32360649deaf712e2221686533f81507f58" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Thulagi glof"> <figcaption>MELTING MOUNTAINS: Thulagi Glacial Lake in Manang has been identified among 47 lakes in Nepal at risk of an outburst flood because of climate breakdown. All photos: DURGA RANA MAGAR</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122100136_4d3c25c9b4f6eaff3e538b36346471c301d38338514bfdfa9ee63ccd77d20489.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260122100136_4d3c25c9b4f6eaff3e538b36346471c301d38338514bfdfa9ee63ccd77d20489" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Thulagi glof"> <figcaption>Yaks graze below Thulagi Himal (7,059m) and Mt Manaslu (8,163m) along the Dona Khola that drains the lake.</figcaption> </figure>  “Dona used to be small, but it has now grown bigger,” he says, gesturing to how the glacier has receded and shrunk. Trekkers used to be able to go to the other side, but now the glacier is riddled with ponds and boulders falling off the moraine that make it dangerous.&nbsp; Gurung adds rather matter-of-factly: “The lake will burst sooner or later.”&nbsp; Kathmandu-based International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development (ICIMOD) has been studying Thulagi for the past two decades. Topographic maps from the 1960s and early satellite images show the lake being much smaller.&nbsp; When the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-s-resource-curse">Marsyangdi Hydropower Project</a> project was being built in 1994, the German Institute of Geology and Natural Resources with the Department of Hydrology and Meteorology measured the lake to be already 2km in length. More recent surveys show the lake has increased its size since then to more than 1 sq km. &nbsp; The lake is among 47 <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/meltpools-in-the-himalaya">dangerous glacial lakes in Nepal and Tibet </a>&nbsp;identified by ICIMOD in 2020 due to its size, the risk of landslides and avalanches, and the gradual collapse of the lake’s ice-core moraine dam.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122100136_9b9fea3665494614c2d89e4202c735fd642a13552d67ca2be3da5c390320ca9b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20260122100136_9b9fea3665494614c2d89e4202c735fd642a13552d67ca2be3da5c390320ca9b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Thulagi glof"> <figcaption>Local guide Chandra Bahadur Gurung has been taking trekkers up to Thulagi Lake for 20 years.</figcaption> </figure>  In 2018 a team of glaciologists led by Umesh K Haritasya <a href="https://www.mdpi.com/2072-4292/10/5/798">published a journal article</a> about the evolution of three glacial lakes including Thulagi, Lower Barun, and Imja. Even back in 1976, Thulagi was twice the size of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/from-nepali-press/Diverting-danger,3172">Imja glacial lake</a> in the Khumbu and six times the size of the Lower Barun. The team measured the lake’s depth at 79m, and calculated that it held 36.1 million m3 of water. Since then, Thulagi has been growing at a slower rate than the other two lakes because it is shielded by shadows of mountains. There is also not as much glacial calving in the narrow valley.&nbsp; Nonetheless, scientists and experts have long warned that a Glacial Lake Outburst Flood (GLOF) from Thulagi poses a big risk to four hydropower projects on the Marsyangdi and settlements like Besisahar and Dumre (map).  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260125130136_eac3ccf38d2f91619825ab977bb21ea3eee84d6e87939721f9a8dbb7f0f22504.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20260125130136_eac3ccf38d2f91619825ab977bb21ea3eee84d6e87939721f9a8dbb7f0f22504" data-rendition-name="original" width="2076" height="1444" loading="lazy" alt="Thulagi map"> </figure>  The lake feeds into Dona Khola, a tributary of the Marsyangdi where the 49.9MW Dona Khola hydropower project is being built at a cost of Rs10 billion. Another 42MW Super Dona Khola project is planned on the river. “One of the trigger points that could lead to a glacial lake outburst could be the steep lateral moraine, which might be weakened by rapidly melting permafrost,” says Scott Watson, a University of Leeds researcher who was part of the team that conducted the 2018 study. Locals are already witnessing what Watson describes. They say that it was easy to reach Thulagi’s headwaters even until a few years ago, but that is now dangerous because of ice and rockfalls.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122100136_217a1951a620e8efe11e5936600be172874976a0c04a1031495cf6687ce8f82c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20260122100136_217a1951a620e8efe11e5936600be172874976a0c04a1031495cf6687ce8f82c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1426" height="1070" loading="lazy" alt="Thulagi glof"> <figcaption>The 50MW Upper Marsyangdi Hydropower Project station in Lamjung. A Thulagi Lake outburst would damage four hydropower projects on the Marsyangdi and its tributaries.</figcaption> </figure>  GLOF WARNING&nbsp; Glaciologist Rijan Bhakta Kayastha has been studying Thulagi since 1994, and was part of a team that discovered that the lake’s terminal moraine was made up of rocky soil on top and ice at its core.&nbsp; In 2020, Kayastha's team published a study that modelled the route of a possible GLOF. They found that if the lake burst, it would take 2.5 hours to reach Dharapani, and 4 hours to reach Bahundanda 39km downstream. The surge would be 13.7m high at Dharapani and 15m by the time it reached Taal, the village most at risk because it is situated only a few metres above the Marsyangdi. ‘Considering the size of the Thulagi glacial lake and its dam, it seems unlikely that a rock fall or avalanche would cause the lake to breach the moraine dam,” concluded the study. “But an earthquake or climate change would require a separate study. At present, there is no immediate or imminent threat of this glacier bursting.” MEMORIES OF 2021 Across Manang valley, residents are haunted by the memories of the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/himalayan-floods-a-sign-of-worse-to-come">2021 flood on the Marsyangdi</a> that swept away parts of Chame, Dharapani, Naso, and Taal villages.&nbsp; Kamarkali Gurung, grew up on the banks of the Marsyangdi in Dharapani, and had never imagined that the tranquil river she knew could become such a monster. She had saved up to build her own three-story property with 17 rooms.&nbsp; Her family was away that June evening when the flood swept away her hotel. “Not even a spoon remained, everything was gone,” says Kamarkali. “Losing the hotel hurt like losing a loved one. The Marsyangdi flows through my house now, I can never go back.”&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122100136_925087c286f18a0374f5d2fae5cc528b6e8b5a55e02813e470c49b923b4f193a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20260122100136_925087c286f18a0374f5d2fae5cc528b6e8b5a55e02813e470c49b923b4f193a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Thulagi glof"> <figcaption>SURVIVORS: Kamarkali Gurung's hotel was swept away by the 2021 flood on the Marsyangdi. She now operates her hotel from a rented house in Dharapani.</figcaption> </figure>  Surendra Gurung, also a hotelier, was in Dharapani the night of the flood, and can still remember the fear as the river roared towards the village. “I did not know if I would live or die,” he says.&nbsp; Sirantal village was merely 10m above the Marsyangdi, and was completely destroyed by the flood. Thirty-two people were rescued by army helicopters, and most of the families have now relocated to Taal.&nbsp; One of them is Singha Bahadur Gurung who also ran a lodge for 20 years. “We did not have to buy anything except rice, the soil in Sirantal was so fertile,” he remembers.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122100136_9da9290e59a6d565ae9cb81a850f725ccd937fd658d0adfabccfe4114ec94bed.jpg" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20260122100136_9da9290e59a6d565ae9cb81a850f725ccd937fd658d0adfabccfe4114ec94bed" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Thulagi glof"> <figcaption>Singha Bahadur Gurung operated a lodge in Sirantal before the flood swept it away in 2021.</figcaption> </figure>  Marsyangdi now flows through where Singha Gurung’s village used to be. “Ever since the flood, I am terrified every time it rains from June to August,” he says.&nbsp; The 2021 flood was during the monsoon, and was caused by unusually heavy rainfall in the catchment. A GLOF on the Marsyangdi would be much more destructive. Roshni Ghale, 46, runs a hotel in Taal, and escaped with her family to a nearby cave as the flood engulfed nearby homes.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122100136_7a6b74a4c33b597e2815b035ec5d56ffea35923016518f0fb35bcc4fc925dccd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_13" data-image-id="20260122100136_7a6b74a4c33b597e2815b035ec5d56ffea35923016518f0fb35bcc4fc925dccd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Thulagi glof"> <figcaption>Roshni Ghale spent six months after the 2021 flood rebuilding her hotel in Taal. Tourism has steadily picked up in the four years since the flood. </figcaption> </figure>  “We spent the next six months after the flood rebuilding our lives, going to bed hungry many a night,” she recalls. In the four years since, tourism has picked up again, but the<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-unseen-wounds-of-climate-disasters"> community is still traumatised</a>. In the wake of the floods, the government had begun talks to rehabilitate and repatriate the community, but until now, they have been <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/from-one-disaster-to-the-next">empty promises</a>. In any case, the people here, most of them experienced hoteliers whose livelihood depends on tourism, are unwilling to uproot their lives and start over elsewhere.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122100136_9a13c863422806eefdcd826ed12f9906e2372bd8f60f83c5351652eccf050384.jpg" data-media-id="editor_16" data-image-id="20260122100136_9a13c863422806eefdcd826ed12f9906e2372bd8f60f83c5351652eccf050384" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="844" loading="lazy" alt="Thulagi glof"> <figcaption>Most of the survivors of the 2021 flood on the Marsyangdi from villages like Sirantal have relocated to the upstream village of Taal, which itself was hit by a monsoon flood in 2021.</figcaption> </figure>  DISASTER PREPAREDNESS Even though studies have assessed the risk of GLOFs in Manang and across Nepal, and warned about the damage that such floods could cause, it took until 2021 for early warning systems to be installed on the banks of the Marsyangdi and in the town of Taal.&nbsp; But beyond that, there has been little preparedness. Early warning systems and disaster preparedness are necessary not just along the Marsyangdi but also at and around Thulagi itself, say experts. Locals here are becoming increasingly aware of the risk posed by the expanding lake up the valley, but are reluctant to leave homes and communities that they have lived in for generations. The hydropower projects on the Dona Khola promises jobs, and the local government is upgrading the hiking trail to Thulagi Lake which has become a tourist attraction. “Manang now gets <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/too-little-snow-too-much-rain">too little snow and too much rain</a>, and the Marsyangdi charts its own course,” says Min Rashi Gurung, chair of Ward-1 of Naso rural municipality, where Thulagi is located. &nbsp; But help may be on the way.Last year, the Green Climate Fund (GCF) approved a $36.1 million grant to help Nepal reduce risk of GLOFs in Thulagi and four other glacial lakes. The project is managed by the government and the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP). The project is set to begin next fiscal year, and will reduce the water level in the four glacial lakes including Thulagi, similar to what was done in Imja and Tso Rolpa, says Dinkar Kayastha at the Department of Hydrology and Meteorology. &nbsp; Centre for Investigative Journalism - Nepal

Hotter Himalaya melts glaciers

This is the 81st episode of Diaspora Diaries, a Nepali Times series in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working and studying abroad. I went to Australia in 2008 because everyone was headed there. It was my first time leaving the country and my first job. My college helped me find work as a kitchen helper at a Brisbane restaurant.&nbsp; I did not know that being a kitchen helper meant washing dishes. I was young and did not know how to wash dishes or how to handle the steam, the hot water, and the busy kitchen. The utensils were thrown at the dishwashing station continuously, and water splashed on my face. My shoes and clothes were always wet. It was an on-call job. A couple of days into the job, I was asked to come in when I was at the movies. I refused. They fired me. That was that. I then worked on a farm, picking lemons and oranges. The lemon work was particularly hard because I would get cuts all over my hands. This hustle was not for me.&nbsp; Within a year in Australia, I decided to return to Nepal because the foreign life did not suit me. After spending eight months in Nepal, reality sank in. Nepal was not all that great either. I went back to Australia. On the plane, I befriended a Nepali woman who was homesick and a first time traveler. At the immigration in Australia, the officer noticed my long absence and started interrogating me. He noticed the Nepali woman waiting for me and asked who she was. Without thinking I lied that she was my girlfriend. That seemed to do the trick because he did not want us to be separated. He stamped my passport. She went her way. I went mine.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260127130112_5e7bfa6acc5f94d5f1905537e387c2d4169469679ace2b71de368912f3bd514f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260127130112_5e7bfa6acc5f94d5f1905537e387c2d4169469679ace2b71de368912f3bd514f" data-rendition-name="original" width="987" height="1004" loading="lazy" alt="DD 81 NT"> </figure>  In Sydney, I again found a dishwashing job at a fine dining restaurant. A Sri Lankan colleague helped me learn the job. The pace at which I had to do the dishes was insane but I got the hang of it in two weeks. I always dreamt of one day wearing the chef’s white coat. It commanded respect, I could tell. In addition to becoming good at my job washing dishes, I also had good language and networking skills so I built good relationships with colleagues. There was a need for a pizza chef at the restaurant. It was expensive to hire someone new, and they asked me if I was up for the job. I said yes even though I knew nothing about making pizzas. My Italian colleagues coached me and before I knew it, I became better than others at the job. Soon, I realised that I did not just want to make pizzas. Whatever I wanted to learn, I just asked seniors to take me under their wings and I would help without pay. They would agree but still pay me. It wasn’t a strategy per se, I genuinely wanted to learn. At some point, a Japanese sous chef in my restaurant and I had coincidentally applied to the same restaurant, and there, under him, I got to learn even more. Working with a Japanese chef is really difficult, but you learn a lot. He would sometimes even hold my hand with tongs dipped in hot water when I screwed something up. I worked in a few restaurants after this and was earning well. When one of my colleagues, a dishwasher, was let go unfairly, I decided to leave because I did not want to be a quiet bystander to this act. I returned to Nepal immediately after this.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026012719010_f33ba38bb5f86f1d33262fd0d7ccd09ed01f6cc52148ca3d4cd66c434b695730.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2026012719010_f33ba38bb5f86f1d33262fd0d7ccd09ed01f6cc52148ca3d4cd66c434b695730" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="DD 82"> </figure>  I started a restaurant called Ghumti, but it was struggling. The location of the restaurants was not good and it failed. I bought another restaurant in Darbar Marg. I was managing two restaurants when Covid hit. The rent kept piling up, and there was no revenue. I took a huge loss. I gave them up and returned to Chitwan and started making migration plans. I came across a job vacancy for Alba in Qatar by the famous Enrico Crippa. I still remember the heat when I got out of the airport in Doha, it was like entering an oven. Thankfully, I had a Nepali roommate who showed me around and helped me adjust.&nbsp; The hotel was still under construction, but training had started. We worked really hard for the opening and things went well. In 2023, we even won the Best MENA Restaurant award. But at some point in 2024, the international Crippa chain decided to leave.&nbsp; Some colleagues including the head chef left and I suddenly was put in charge. I had some head chef experience from Australia and had previous experience working in high pressure environments, so I stepped up. We had to start from scratch again, this time as Alba in Raffles, Doha.&nbsp; The name of our restaurant comes from the Alba white truffle, which is the best available and is expensive, selling at around 40,000 QAR per kg. We had heard the official announcement that the Michelin was coming to Qatar, and we worked even harder.&nbsp; Michelin inspections are strict, highly secretive and you have no idea you are being investigated. Even then, we were up for the game. We were ‘selected’ which meant we had potential.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026012719010_bab3a904af69603e9e79f333aeea89b035401c0c8d1750930107f3594ff1f565.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2026012719010_bab3a904af69603e9e79f333aeea89b035401c0c8d1750930107f3594ff1f565" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="697" loading="lazy" alt="DD 81"> </figure>  I went to the award ceremony with low expectations. But because they announce the name alphabetically, Alba came first. I was very happy and felt validated. Being recognised as a Michelin one star restaurant is a huge achievement for us. My MD reminded me of a promise I had made of getting a Michelin tattoo if we got the award. I guess I will get it done when I come to Nepal next. My plan is to get a tattoo that captures my journey right from the dishwashing days.&nbsp; I have cooked for Obama, Beckham, Kaka, Trump, 50 Cent, Lindsay Lohan, you name it, because our restaurant is visited by high profile guests. At first, I used to feel the pressure. Now I view all guests as the same. The food you make is the same no matter who is eating it. I love the work. In fact, it does not feel like work. The rush in the kitchen, the atmosphere, the heat, the scent, I live for it. When I am not working, I get bored. It is like an addiction without which I get withdrawals. I want to contribute in introducing Nepali cuisine and ingredients in the worldstage. Nepalis overseas have a lot of potential in the hospitality sector. But my advice to youth is to focus on building a strong base and invest in learning. It is increasingly common for Nepalis to job hop for a salary jump. While other skills like language are also important, it is the hard skills that we really need to focus on. In our field of work, it is the plate that needs to speak.

Sky is the limit

A mighty metal bird, ‘Heron on Hunt’ spreads its wings and unhinges its mouth hungrily. It looks down at ‘The Defending Crab,’ which has windshield wipers for legs and opens its pincers defiantly at the heron, daring it to attack. The crab shell is made of a ceiling fan, the blades of which have been cut up to form the bird’s wings. “The story is that you are what you eat,” says artist <a href="https://taragaonnext.com/events/artist-in-studio-9-metamorphosis-by-saurab-koirala/" target="_blank">Saurab Koirala</a>, whose solo exhibition ‘<a href="https://taragaonnext.com/events/artist-in-studio-9-metamorphosis-by-saurab-koirala/" target="_blank">Metamorphosis</a>’ at <a href="https://taragaonnext.com/events/archiving-for-the-future-an-intersection-of-heritage-and-architecture/" target="_blank">Taragaon Next </a>has sculptures made of material retrieved from garbage warehouses. Koirala was in the studio when protestors ransacked the adjacent Hyatt Hotel on 9 September. The windows of the iconic museum designed by <a href="https://www.archdaily.com/957728/carl-pruscha-an-architect-investigating-overlooked-territories" target="_blank">architect Carl Pruscha</a> in the 1960s were all shattered, but the studio survived. He used the broken glass to make fins for his fish sculptures and wings for insects.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026012409010_0c6c0f6d69472940e1c623db7bae62235a18ded418066b1c8ecc89485d76dcd4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2026012409010_0c6c0f6d69472940e1c623db7bae62235a18ded418066b1c8ecc89485d76dcd4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Saurab Koirala exhibition Taragaon Next NT"></figure>  Metamorphosis is a reference to the transformation of trash into art, but it is also fitting because many of the repurposed items are of insects: a firefly, a dung beetle, a spider, a dragonfly, a queen ant. The most striking are the pair of praying mantises, the smaller one is black, made of windshield wipers, and the larger grey one is made of a motorcycle silencer, bicycle parts, and a fluorescent tube holder. About the unrealistic size difference, Koirala notes that each piece is made of a component that defines its size. For the larger grey mantis, the defining piece is the silencer that makes up its torso. “The mantises are mating,” Koirala explains. “The female mantis will cannibalise the male afterwards, and the dragonfly witnesses the whole scene.” It is possible to look at each installation and immediately recognise what it is meant to be, but on looking closer we see what the parts are made of, and how. The exhibition is from Koirala’s Taragaon Next residency program sponsored by the Saraf Foundation.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026012409010_35d47a71c3e357d4cdba166cdcbf37019639c68a3d69a158f19fe97ea48065ea.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2026012409010_35d47a71c3e357d4cdba166cdcbf37019639c68a3d69a158f19fe97ea48065ea" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Saurab Koirala exhibition Taragaon Next NT"></figure>  Koirala thinks of himself as primarily a painter and a caricature artist, and not a sculptor. His mother was a teacher, and would make miniature animals, gods, houses for her students. “Seeing how happy she was doing that made me want to do it too, although she did not want me to be an artist,” Koirala recalls. Some of his mother’s creations are also on display at the exhibition. Koirala got more experience working with 3D models digitally in his work at Incessant Rain animation studio, especially animals. This seems to have given him strong visualisation skills that he has put to use in the art pieces, using minimal bending and cutting. Koirala participated in the WastArt Competition in 2018, where his Danphe sculpture made from colourful coke and soda cans was so striking that it became a part of the permanent collection at the Sagarmatha Next Art Gallery in Syangboche. Koirala worked in the studio in Khumbu, fashioning yaks and bees out of trekking trash.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026012409010_253578bca93f136dca51102fc03a675cc3a8f47ba0b2d31ae2a4020c2c6e7485.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="2026012409010_253578bca93f136dca51102fc03a675cc3a8f47ba0b2d31ae2a4020c2c6e7485" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Saurab Koirala exhibition Taragaon Next NT"></figure>  “My back hurts,” he grimaces as he opens the doors to the studio, an unassuming shed a short walk from the exhibition which is littered with metal spare parts for future art. He has gone through three whole bicycles with a power saw. Koirala seems to want to alter the scrap as little as possible, and it is uncanny how well some of it fits the pieces. The aerodynamic curved fuel tank of a Bajaj Avenger motorcycle becomes the abdomen of a gigantic queen ant. A mosquito repellent becomes the green body of a spider. A stapler and a coconut turn into a snail. The steel legs of a rolling office chair curve exactly into the legs and paws of a fox in motion. “I did not want the animals to be in static poses. I wanted to capture dynamic movement,” says Koirala. Fittingly, most of the parts he has chosen have come from vehicles: bicycles, motorcycles, scooters, car horns, air filters. While Koirala’s work in his Sagarmatha Next residency was about waste encroaching into nature in the mountains, his work in Metamorphosis is a nostalgic memory of a happy childhood in Biratnagar. ‘There used to be abundant dragonflies in my hometown,’ writes Koirala in his description. “As kids, we would catch them and tie threads to their tails and fly them like kites.” The message about the degradation of nature is more valid than ever. The world is seeing the mass extinction of insects, and uncontrolled urbanisation of polluted Kathmandu Valley means only ants and some spiders survive. Artist in Studio #9: <a href="https://taragaonnext.com/events/artist-in-studio-9-metamorphosis-by-saurab-koirala/" target="_blank">Metamorphosis</a> <a href="https://taragaonnext.com/" target="_blank">Taragaon Next</a> Till 30 January 10AM-5:30PM

migrant-health

Too hot to work

Migrants returning from the Gulf with infertility

“Just walk on”

Hotter Himalaya melts glaciers

Sky is the limit

Turning trash into sculptures