Their names are so unpronounceable for Nepalis that Gereltungalog Erdenetsogt has the nickname ‘Ge’, and Giovanni Viradi calls himself ‘Gio’. The two world travellers have been stuck in Nepal since March because of the COVID-19 lockdown, but like it so much here that they have <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/many-foreigners-stay-put-in-nepal/" target="_blank">decided not to be repatriated on evacuation flights</a>.
Ge and Gio met last year in Laos, and were immediately drawn to each other by their passion for the martial arts. They came to Nepal on a trek, have been here ever since, teaching children karate and taekwondo.
“We considered going back, but Nepal made us feel at home and there are really good people who have been helpful,” says Ge, who is from Mongolia. Gio is from Italy and says it did not make sense going back to his country at a time when the coronavirus pandemic was at its peak.
<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/many-foreigners-stay-put-in-nepal/" target="_blank">Many foreigners stay put in Nepal</a>, Sonia Awale and Marty Logan
<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/travellers-stuck-in-nepal-help-locals-in-need/" target="_blank">Travellers stuck in Nepal help locals in need</a>, Sonia Awale
<div class="embed-block"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221202151240/638a0ed19c7e80680e0cd48bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="427"></div>
Despite their different cultural backgrounds, the two are united by their zeal for martial arts. Besides giving martial arts tutorials to children in an orphanage in Panauti, the two have also been regularly recording a ‘Quarantine Self-defence Series’ on the terrace of their house in Swayambhu and posting it on the Internet.
“Karate can have a social focus and can be used as a powerful took for the empowerment of women and for anti-bullying campaigns,” says Ge, who adds that the lockdown period in Nepal has given them time to train, meditate and reassess their lives.
Ge, 32, was brought up in a nomadic lifestyle in the Mongolian steppe, got tired of a sedentary career in Shanghai and quit for a backpack life. On the other side of the world, thirty four-year-old Gio also quit his job as a chef in England and also headed out into the world.
<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/girl-gurkhas/" target="_blank">Girl Gurkhas</a>, Monika Deupala
<div class="embed-block"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221202151240/638a0ed19c7e80680e0cd48bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="427"></div>
<div class="embed-block"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221202151240/638a0ed59c7e80680e0cd48cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="427"></div>
<div class="embed-block"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221202151240/638a0ed99c7e80680e0cd48djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="427"></div>
<div class="embed-block"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221202151240/638a0edc9c7e80680e0cd48ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="427"></div>
Their separate trajectories brought them together in Laos last year, and they decided to explore Asia, pursue their interest in the martial arts. and are known by their Instagram handle, Karate Travellers.
“I was hooked to Bruce Lee movies when I was a kid, and did not like cartoons,” recalls Gio. “Dad even took me to a karate dojo and encouraged me to take part in tournaments.” Ge is also sporty, is experienced in taekwondo and nunchaku, and the two are a perfect fit.
The two put on their dobok karate robes every morning, set their tripod on the terrace to &nbsp;record their choreographed karate tutorials with a backdrop of the stupa on the hill, and post them online.
<div class="embed-block"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221202151240/638a0ed59c7e80680e0cd48cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="427"></div>
Every Asian country has its own karate tradition, and the two train with locals to learn the nuances, and add to their repertoire. Gio explains: “We started to use karate as cross-cultural bridge, travelled different countries used martial arts as language to communicate with people from different cultures, and for self-improvement.”
For free-spirited travellers like Ge and Gio, the lockdown could have been like prison, but they have turned it to their advantage. Says Ge: “We decided to make lemonade out of sour lemon by keeping our minds busy and our body fit.”
With Nepal’s international flight ban set to be lifted in three weeks, the two may not have to wait much longer to go out into the world again.
<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/kathmandu-airport-gets-facelift-during-lockdown/" target="_blank">Kathmandu airport gets facelift during lockdown</a>, Raju Banskota

Monika Deupala

original

674x448

610x380

500x500

400x266

400x240

400x203

301x200

1250x600

1084x550

Karate Travellers in Kathmandu

<h2>The first step in reducing air pollution is to let the public and governments know how bad it is</h2>		
		https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6mW7YmSSnes&amp;feature=youtu.be999: that was the <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/world/2018/jun/15/delhi-blanketed-by-smog-so-toxic-it-cant-be-measured" target="_blank" rel="noopener">reading in air pollution monitoring stations in New Delhi</a> on 15 June. Adding to the city’susual vehicular emission pollution was a sand storm blowing in from the Thar Desert (see picture below). Usually, even on bad air days, the Indian capital’s Air Quality Index (AQI) is usually less than 160 – so last weekend was literally off the charts.The dust was blown over by westerly winds into Nepal, where residents of Kathmandu saw trees, plants, parked cars and houses all covered in the muddy rain that fell for three days over the weekend.This was proof that <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/Comment/air-quality-data-to-figire-out-what-to-do,841" target="_blank" rel="noopener">trans-boundary air pollution from India</a> is a serious concern for Nepal. Fortunately the dust particles are bigger and are relatively less harmful than the more toxic smog also blanketing the north Indian plains that also gets blown over.Atmospheric scientists say more than a third of the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/every-breath-you-take-air-pollution" target="_blank" rel="noopener">pollution in Nepal</a> in winter is blown in from across the border. The rest is local dust, vehicular exhaust, <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/brick-factories-still-using-old-polluting-technology,2078" target="_blank" rel="noopener">soot particles from brick kilns</a> and open garbage burning in Nepal itself. Air pollution is the reason for 250 out of every 100,000 deaths in Nepal.		
		<img width="1200" height="681" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107111152/6368e3749c7e80680e033383jpeg.jpg" alt=""/>Data this winter showed that Nepal’s mountain cities and the Tarai had some of the worst air quality in the world – sometimes dirtier than Beijing and Delhi. On 23 April this year, the AQI for Kathmandu was nearly double that in Beijing (153) and New Delhi (167) measured at that the same time.Christa Hasenkopf, atmosphere scientist and co-founder of <a href="https://openaq.org/#/?_k=9nb7wc" target="_blank" rel="noopener">OpenAQ</a>, world’s first real time air pollution data platform, was in Nepal this week for a series of workshops on ensuring that air pollution measurements has an impact on policy formulation and decision-making by raising public awareness and sensitising government officials.Hasenkopf had previously worked in Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia, which also has high levels of pollution, and says making real-time pollution data available to the public can move governments to act.“Nepal has had more political will for air pollution than many places I’ve visited before,” she told Nepali Times in an interview. “By no means has the issue been solved, but what’s happening here in terms of engagement and passion for air quality and how it has evolved is phenomenal.”For the past two winters Kathmandu has been blanketed by dust raised by post- earthquake reconstruction, endless road widening and pipe-laying work for the Melamchi project. This added to vehicular pollution, smog from the Indian plains that also included heavy smoke from crop residue burning this year.Kathmandu was shrouded in a perpetual pall of dust and smoke. Hospitals reported record numbers of patients with respiratory illness including Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Diseases, bronchitis, asthma, emphysema and lung cancer.Moreover, <a href="http://www.pnas.org/content/110/32/12936.abstract" target="_blank" rel="noopener">findings from a study</a> conducted by the Energy Policy Institute at the University of Chicago last year showed that worsening air pollution is decreasing life expectancy of South Asians, and of Nepalis <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/air-pollution-decreases-life-span,3999" target="_blank" rel="noopener">by up to four years</a>.All this has provoked a public outcry, <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/air-pollution-survey-kathmandu,3998" target="_blank" rel="noopener">increased awareness about health implications of poor air</a>, but the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/polluted-politics-cartels,3533" target="_blank" rel="noopener">government has been slow to act</a>. It just revoked a law banning vehicles more than 20 years old, and emission tests and green stickers can be easily bypassed. Even so, change is in the air since local governments were elected last year after 20 years.“There has been a very visible change since last year’s local elections,” noted Sara Litke, Science, Technology and Health Officer for South Asia based at the US Embassy in Kathmandu, "people in cities like Kathmandu and Pokhara are well aware about hazards of air pollution and are speaking out."While public awareness has spurred private institution and the government to monitor air quality, battling pollution requires a long-term effort along with public engagement and political will, and Nepal lags far behind on the policy front, unlike neighbouring China that is switching to electric vehicles and green energy.“Nepal has limited access to air quality data. This gap in information is a major problem when advocating for policy change,”said Hasenkopf, adding that while access to open data and its dissemination to the community through media, academic papers on public health and social networking sites can have a huge impact, the next step is to ensure clean air at the policy level.Read also:<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/every-breath-you-take-air-pollution" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Every breath you take</a>, Sonia Awale<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/Comment/air-quality-data-to-figire-out-what-to-do,841" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Figuring out what to do</a>, Arnico K Panday<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/air-pollution-decreases-life-span,3999" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Breathing is hazardous to health</a>, Sonia Awale<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/air-pollution-survey-kathmandu,3998" target="_blank" rel="noopener">#BreatheFree</a>, Ayesha Shakya

Open air

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221104141140/6365167d9c7e80680e02c219jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="1050"/><figcaption>Photos: Lisa Choegyal</figcaption></figure>"I don’t think we get many tourists at this time of year.” The Mongolian airline official looked doubtfully at the lines of stocky Mongols lined up at the Hong Kong airport check in desks.“Mostly only foreigners coming for business. Winter in Mongolia. It is cold.” In <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19519#.Wqo9bnzBXIU">Ulaanbaatar</a> it is dark when we land but the roofs and streets are white, and pavements packed with snow and ice. In the gloom, plumes of horizontal smoke gush from tall chimneys beyond the highway– the city is heated by coal, and there is an acrid taste in the back of my throat.Actually it is almost always cold in Mongolia. “We have such a short summer -- the tourist season is only a couple of months in July and August.” says Shatra, swathed in cashmere fleece and fur as we head out of the city in the early morning dark to drive two days, yes two days, to the remote Mongolian town of Khankh, on the northern border adjoining Russia. Our task for the week is to train locals to help them improve ecotourism in the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kh%C3%B6vsg%C3%B6l_Nuur">Khuvsgul Lake National Park</a>. This settlement on the Siberian end of the lake is best accessible in winter when the lake freezes solid.Our Mongol team, in a convoy of three warm SUVs, take their equipment seriously. They do not venture outdoors without layers of high tech clothing, big jackets, hats, gloves and scarves. Soon I discover why. The unforgiving temperatures are never less than 20C below zero and one night it reached up to minus 47C. Cold enough to send shooting pain through a carelessly ungloved hand and make my track-shoed feet ache.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221104141140/636516809c7e80680e02c21ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="1050"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>From then on I wear lined hiking boots and our leader Badral, indulging me with his impish smile, gives me some serious gloves to supplement my wool mitts. Even the vehicles wear blankets on their bonnets at night, and one diesel jeep had a brazier fire lit underneath to thaw the engine.The huge wide open spaces of Mongolia release the soul and make the heart sing. The white snowy steppe reveals intricacies of shadows and colour as the low winter sun traverses the amphitheatre of the vast blue Mongolian sky. We drive north and west for 12 hours on a good road lined with packed snowdrifts, flurries of spun silver blowing across the surface and black ice lurking in treacherous corners. A frozen veil lines the inside of the car windows.Our cavalcade stops for a snack –- boar and horsemeat -- and three well-kept mastiffs appear out of the empty landscape to politely beg for titbits. In the monochromatic landscape, a man in a crimson deel and turquoise sash pushes his car back from the ditch into which it had skidded. A flock of sheep pick their way through the snow, herded by a boy huddled on his brown pony. Herds of horses with shaggy winter coats fend for themselves, pawing at the unpromising ground to find something to eat.The short days are framed with an insipid dawn and a lingering rosy sunset that sucks all colour from the countryside. As we pull into Murun with headlights blazing for the overnight stop, a sliver of new moon rises above the harsh black outline of the hills.The swirling steam, bulky silhouettes and tooth-aching cold remind me of my winter journey the long way home from Nepal in 1974. By rail through Siberia, only 20 km  north of Khankh, testing my personal limits by travelling defiantly alone on boats and trains -- from Japan to Scotland.Next morning we offer prayers to the lake with sprays of vodka, then gingerly drive onto the frozen, glittering surface. Badral explains: “It’s early in the year and the lake is only just driveable – the ice is only 50cm deep now, but next month it will be one meter thick and safer to drive.” This is a massive body of water measuring 135 by 45 km, and in places is 240 m deep. Mongolia’s sacred ‘Mother of Oceans’ contains two thirds of the nation’s fresh water and is linked by a meandering river to Lake Baikal.As we venture away from the shore, the texture of the lake ice keeps changing. We ride the smooth black, fractured white with cracks, sometimes frozen ripples as though a wind has suspended the ruffled surface, and then clouded waves like circular lily pads. We slide to a halt and get down to dance on the ice, pausing at a shaman shrine amidst pine trees on the lake’s largest island.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221104141140/636516849c7e80680e02c21bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="404"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Snow is blown into icy ridges and glittering blocks where the great sheets of ice have melted then collided and overlapped, crashing into uneven joined gullies of anxiety for the drivers. Long cracks have formed into a frozen furrow, sometimes several metres wide. These cause the most concern and have to be inspected before our cautious convoy dare proceed -- some are still soft but narrow enough for us to splash across. The trusty Toyotas forge through in a fog of steamy confidence, but other fissures require long detours. 13 13 Toktor, our stolid and highly skilled driver, has stopped singing Mongolian songs, his broad brow creased into a frown. Most alarming are the gunshot booms as the ice expands, cracks, and ricochets in the unusual cold. The thermometer on the dashboard reads minus 29C and it is midday. Toktor adjusts his brown fur hat and radios to his colleague in the car behind. “I’m so frightened I can hardly speak,” comes the reply. Toktor sighs when we reach the end of the lake. “Landed!” He grins, his big face wrinkles with relief.The Khankh lodge door opens in a dramatic swirl of vapour, like a pantomime entrance of dry ice as the frozen air condenses in the warmth, frost crystallises inside the door frame, and big boots clump inside. It was late that evening, nursing milk tea by the stove with flame patterns flickering on the cabin’s wood ceiling, that Shatra tells me the real story. A pony whinnies outside.“The drivers were unusually nervous because last night the Khankh school van ended up at the bottom of Lake Khuvsgul. In the reckless dark, the driver hit an unseen crack. There was plenty of time for him and the ten teachers to get out unharmed, but now the school has no transport.”Read Also:<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/So-far-so-good/bardiya-beginnings-Lisa-Choegyal,1085">Bardiya beginnings</a>, Lisa Choegyal<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/So-far-so-good/the-hippie-era-in-kathmandu,837">The unsuccessful hippie</a>, Lisa Choegyal

Lisa Choegyal

Wintering in Mongolia

Nepal has shut down dozens of social media platforms in a move that is widely seen as an effort to tax the revenue they generate in the country, and to control content critical of government. The sites were blocked as of midnight on Thursday, 4 September and affects all Meta products including WhatsApp and Messenger, Threads, and others. Although YouTube, Google and X are also on the government’s list, they were still working as of Friday midday.&nbsp; The government says it took the action after repeated warnings to the platforms to open offices in Nepal, a Cabinet decision last month setting a deadline, as well as a 17 August Supreme Court ruling also requiring them to register and pay requisite taxes. However, the Bill cited in the ban, ‘The Operation, Use, and Regulation of Social Media in Nepal’ has not yet been passed by Parliament. Some social media platforms which were already paying taxes in Nepal even though they are not officially registered, have also been blocked. The move is the latest in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/big-beautiful-bills" target="_blank">a slew of draft legislations</a> designed to undermine Nepal’s open society. A Bill amending the Print and Publications Act would allow district bureaucrats to shut down media. Another draft Bill would allow political appointees to head a new Media Council with the power to revoke the licenses of journalists.&nbsp; A counter-intelligence Bill would let just about anyone in government to arbitrarily tap phones, read emails and trail citizens. On Wednesday the government announced new immigration requirements that would allow it to track the movement of all foreigners in the country. Yet another draft Bill has been set to Parliament to dissolve the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=10675" target="_blank">Social Welfare Council (SWC)</a> and move registration and monitoring of non-governmental organisations, nonprofits and charities to the Ministry of Social Welfare. Seen in this light, the blockage of social media platforms this week is seen as the latest government attempt to constrict freedom of press. Nepal is one of the few remaining open societies in Asia, and now appears to be drifting towards authoritarianism. The government’s sudden shutdown of social media has been greeted with howls of protest on platforms that still remain open, like Viber and TikTok, as well as in Nepal’s mainstream press. Even senior members of the ruling UML-NC coalition have sharply criticised the move, asking if the government is trying to “turn Nepal into North Korea”.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025090508098_a2ab330e403e8418a7006cd5e915607382628dd6984524332bf7b99c74743656.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2025090508098_a2ab330e403e8418a7006cd5e915607382628dd6984524332bf7b99c74743656" data-rendition-name="original" width="4280" height="5187" loading="lazy" alt="social media ban in Nepal"> </figure>  The Regional Director of the New York-based Committee to Protect Journalists (CPJ) Beh Lih Yi said in a statement: ‘Nepal’s sweeping ban on social media sets a dangerous precedent for press freedom. Blocking online news platforms vital to journalists will undermine reporting and the public’s right to information. The government must immediately rescind this order and restore access to social media platforms, which are essential tools for exercising press freedom.’ Besides undermining press freedom, blocking social media platforms will also hurt commerce and the economy since so many small and medium business trade through Instagram, Facebook and other platforms. Nepal’s vibrant social media has also been a boost or citizens to assert identity, build solidarity against injustice and play an adversarial role when the mainstream media does not do it. Social media platforms have also become the tenuous link for Nepali families scattered across the world to keep in touch with each other — its importance growing with the increasing size of the diaspora. The government wants social media platforms to register, pay taxes and remove posts on their sites that ‘undermine the national interest and Nepal’s territorial integrity, disturb social and religious harmony’.&nbsp; In response, rights activists have said while there is need for the government to regulate extreme content and hate speech, officials appear to be more intent on clamping down on free speech and trying to force platforms to share the revenue. On Friday, the government had allowed WhatsApp back online, but there were reports that it had instructed the Nepal Telecommunication Authority (NTA) to instruct mobile and internet service providers to block by Friday night all platforms, including Facebook, Instagram, Messenger, WhatsApp, X (Twitter), YouTube, LinkedIn, Reddit, Threads, Snapchat, Pinterest, Signal, Clubhouse, Rumble.&nbsp; Platforms that have registered and are allowed include TikTok, Viber, Nimbuzz, Popo Live, WeTalk, Global Diary and the Nepali portal Hamro Patro. TikTok was banned last year for ‘disturbing social harmony’ and it was lifted after the platform registered its office in Nepal. But even while it was banned, many users simply switched to VPN. Telegram was also banned for ‘financial crimes’ and it has since also been allowed back. NTA officials confirmed that some Asia-Pacific regional offices of platforms, including Meta had been in touch overnight inquiring about the registration process.&nbsp; Nepal is not alone in regulating social media. China bans most Western platforms, Russia and Turkey regulate their and require platforms to locate their data servers in the country. Gulf countries allow social media but keep a tight control on dissent.&nbsp; Experts have said even the government will not dare close down YouTube since so many Nepali individuals and companies make money with posts on that platform, and closing it would also impact on Google and Gmail. Facebook had also just launched a monetisation scheme for videos and reels, and Nepalis uploading content would lose revenue.&nbsp; Blocking the platforms has already hit content creators, influencers and cut small businesses from reaching customers. A survey of social media use in Nepal by Sharecast Initiative showed that 94% of those with smart phones used YouTube, followed by Facebook (92%) while TikTok was in the 50-60% range. X and Instagram were in the single digits. A YouTube ban will also hurt the mainstream media since up to 20% of the revenue of Nepal’s main tv channels came through YouTube. Some 11.1 million Nepalis watch YouTube content every day, the survey showed. ‘For global giants like Meta or Google, Nepal is a small market, and they may not even flinch — but for millions of Nepalis, these platforms are central to daily life, livelihoods, and connections across the world,’ wrote AI consultant Naresh Newar in a LinkedIn post. Some experts said the government’s sweeping ban on social media networks was untenable and the government would be forced to rollback sooner or later. Said editor Shiva Gaunle: “The platforms had given citizens a voice and broken the monopoly of the government, legislators, the courts and journalists over public opinion. This is an effort to reassert that monopoly, but Nepal can never be turned into a North Korea.”

Protest grows against Nepal’s social media ban

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x2fZXyjsE28" target="_blank">Yog Narendra Malla</a> became king at age 18, and ruled Patan from 1684-1705 — his reign marked by a cultural and architectural renaissance of the city state. He put up a statue of himself in the palace square with a little bronze bird sitting on the guardian serpent above his head. It is said he told his subjects that he would look after their welfare till the day the bird flew off. During<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/lessons-not-learned-from-2015-o2etq6zu"> the 2015 earthquake</a>, the pedestal collapsed and the statue was damaged. The bird was lost, only to be located in a pile of debris and reinstated when the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/piece-by-piece-patan-darbar-square-reconstruction,3782" target="_blank">statue was consecrated</a> two years later. <div class="embed-block"><iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/x2fZXyjsE28?si=jYfIb4p6zCLXYQ1T" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" referrerpolicy="strict-origin-when-cross-origin" allowfullscreen></iframe></div> History remembers Yog Narendra Malla as a wise king, but like most<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/preserving-king-birendra-s-family-home"> royalty of the day</a>, he had a weakness for women. He is supposed to have consorted with 30 queens and numerous concubines. At least 33 of them self-immolated themselves on the king's funeral pyre when he died, adhering to the prevailing <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/review/Jhola,947">practice of sati</a>. When Yog Narendra Malla’s favourite queen found out that he was carrying on with yet another woman, she got the local community of the Kwelachhi neighbourhood to stage a shadow sex play to quite literally expose his unfaithfulness. Actors enacted the explicit exploits of the king and his mistress, a bright butter lamp projecting the moving shadows of their lovemaking on a thin white drape to entertain those gathered in the square below. The queen made sure that the show was designed to face the home of the king’s paramour to shame them both. She also paid for a group to chant a bhajan with lyrics that ridiculed the king’s extramarital affair. The Jhyalcha Guthi community trust that the queen set up three-and-half century ago is still active to this day, and performs the annual shadow play in the same building in Kwelachhi the day before <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-legend-behind-the-myth-of-indra-jatra">Indra Jatra </a>every year. This year’s show is on Friday evening, 5 September. The opening lines of the chants that accompany the play are the same words approved by the queen all those years ago: “Raja Yog Narendra ya aparadh…” (King Yog Narendra’s crime…) The community leader of the Kwelachhi neighbourhood, 62-year-old Baburaja Awale, explains the importance of the event: “This Jhyalcha is our<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/saving-the-intangible,3303"> intangible heritage</a> and oral history. We do not have a written format, it has been passed down from generation to generation. Every word of the bhajan is the story of King Yog Narendra Malla.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250904070952_249e85b32cbd99bb8515151557e0ec1a65d44a34ef1aacabaaeb469622d12664.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250904070952_249e85b32cbd99bb8515151557e0ec1a65d44a34ef1aacabaaeb469622d12664" data-rendition-name="original" width="1750" height="1167" loading="lazy" alt="Sex and the city of Patan"> <figcaption>The statue of Yog Narendra Malla being reinstated after it toppled in the 2015 earthquake. Photo: GOPEN RAI/ NEPALI TIMES ARCHIVE</figcaption> </figure>  Jhyalcha Pyankha, as the ceremony is called, starts with a puja for the Bhimsen — the god of wealth and prosperity, a popular <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-homecoming-of-nepal-s-gods">deity in Patan</a> who has a temple dedicated just to him in the palace square. This is immediately followed by a bhajan of Bhairab performed with <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Buzz-house,670">traditional Newa musical instruments</a>. Community members serve snacks consisting of samay baji beaten rice, water buffalo chunks, soybean, green veggies, lentils, ginger, garlic and aila liquor. “In the first act of the shadow play, the man initiates the lovemaking, and in the third it is the woman,” says Laxmi Lal Awale, also a member of the trust that organises the show. The shadow action is all uncensored, but interspersed with <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/between-the-sacred-and-everyday">scenes of everyday life</a>: the woman is spinning a thread, the king is going about his royal chores, and the two sit down to share sanacha fermented pickle that is popular this time of year. <div class="embed-block"><iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/qZ3twuG1wNQ?si=yRfkoC3A-X9cIl8r" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" referrerpolicy="strict-origin-when-cross-origin" allowfullscreen></iframe></div> “Back then, there was no tv, films or YouTube, and yet we managed to stage the shadow play using our own resourcefulness,” says Baburaja Awale. “It is important to continue the tradition.” The challenge now is to ensure that the<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/the-reign-of-the-god-of-rain"> younger generation takes over</a>, learning the lyrics of the ancient bhajan. The dafa khala group that performs all over Patan during festivals and religious events is now training teenagers to play the musical instruments and act in the shadow play. The Jhyalcha was staged even after the 2015 earthquake when the falcha where the bhajan is performed collapsed and they made-do in a tin shed. The structure was later rebuilt with a grant from the group, Photo Circle. Lalitpur Metropolitan City sets aside a budget of Rs50,000 to organise the Jhyalcha Pyankha every year, but this is not enough and is supplemented by individual donations. The performers including musicians and actors are all volunteers, and take part in it because it is their community duty. The erotic shadow play was way ahead of its time, not just in its graphic content but the use of contemporary local technology as well as improvisation and pure imagination. Says Laxmi Lal: “Whatever its origin in the legend of King Yog Narendra Malla and his queen, Jhyalcha also served as a medium of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/lets-talk-about-it">sex education</a>. In the past, women were discouraged from watching the shadow play, but today everyone is welcome, we all watch it together.” Jhyalcha Pyankha Kwelachhi, Chyasal, Patan 7PM onwards Friday, 5 September

Sex and the city of Patan

Unlike many countries, there is not much incentive in Nepal for the private sector to fund charities and non-profits. Donations and grants are not tax-deductible.
Yet there are corporate entities that have Corporate Social Responsibility (CSR) in their portfolio of activities through foundations that they have set up. Some do it loudly to gain public relations mileage, while others are quiet about their <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/norway-supports-himalayan-climate-research?mdrv=www.nepalitimes.com&amp;=1">generous support</a>.
The CSR outlay of factories and manufacturing companies is regulated by Industrial Enterprise Act (IEA), while the Nepal Rastra Bank oversees grants banks and financial institutions contribute and requires them to set aside 1% of their net profit for CSR activities.
The guideline requires banks and financial institutions to donate to activities covering education, health, environment and financial literacy, among others. Recently, the Supreme Court directed the government to formulate a Bill in the parliament to standardise and regulate the private sector’s CSR activities.
“We receive guidelines from Nepal Rastra Bank and follow them,” says Pranisha Shrestha who heads the CSR Department at NMB Bank. “We have got a notice about updates on those guidelines, and we will adapt accordingly.”
<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/greening-nepal-s-tourism">Environmental sustainability </a>is one of the important components of CSR for Nepali companies, and there have been many initiatives aimed at urban renewal. One of the most visible is of the telecommunication company Ncell, which is among Nepal’s largest taxpayers.
Five years ago, Ncell adopted a 6km stretch of the Ring Road from Ekantakuna to Koteswor-Kalanki, planting 12,000 saplings. They have now grown into<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/seeing-the-forest-and-trees-in-nepal"> a thick forest</a> along the embankment of the road.
Not only is the lush greenery in an overbuilt part of Lalitpur soothing to the eye, it also helps in reducing temperature within <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/in-the-heat-of-the-moment-5xcycyot">the urban heat bubble</a>, and also contributes to reducing air pollution and traffic noise.
“We started a pilot project along 600m of the Ekantakuna section of the Ring Road during the pandemic,” recalls Bishakha Lakshmi Khadka, Director of Corporate Communications and Sustainability at Ncell. “It went really well, and after that we extended the<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/saving-cities-with-trees"> tree planting</a> and upkeep to Kalanki.”
Sustainability also means making younger Nepalis aware of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/natures-fragile-gift-to-nepal">the value of nature </a>and environmental sustainability, which is why Ncell has also undertaken a Green School initiative in and around Kathmandu Valley. Besides its One-Tree-One-Youth and 1 Million Trees campaigns, the initiative also aims at behavior change about littering with its waste hackathon in schools.
“The young students can be catalysts with a multiplier effect beyond their schools to society at large, and it has inter-generational impact into the future,” explains Khadka.
Indeed, while <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/tree-mendous">Nepal has doubled its forest cover </a>in the past 30 years to 46% of the country’s area, urban centres like Kathmandu do not have much open spaces and greenery left. And that is where companies like Ncell, Jawalakhel Group of Industries, and others have focused on CSRs.
NMB Bank also runs financial literacy programs for youth where they can learn more about social media safeguards, digital payment systems, with a focus on safety and security. Such training not only helps build skills for the future but also protects young Nepalis from online crime.
“<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/protecting-children-from-anti-social-media">Threats to young minds through social media</a> use are growing as platforms feed algorithm-driven content,” says Shrestha. “We felt media and digital literacy are important in all seven provinces not just to protect young people, but also give them the confidence to use digital financial systems.”
The bank has a special focus on women in leadership programs, and provides scholarships provided in schools across Nepal on environment and sustainability in higher education. Health is another sector where private companies have worked with donating medical equipment, sponsoring health camps and conducting blood donation drives.
CSR or PR?
Other companies heavily involved in CSR include NIMB Bank which contributes to heritage conservation and education, Buddha Air helps farmers in Morang to increase productivity, VOITH with its motto ‘Little things We Do’ provides scholarships to students and has gifted &nbsp;vehicles to hospitals and nature conservation groups, Dwarika’s Hotel promotes organic farming and zero waste initiatives, heritage conservation and helps revive traditional handicrafts.
Although some CSR activities have been criticised for masquerading as PR and for greenwashing, many Nepali companies are actually contributing to improve the situation for individuals in need and underserved communities.
It also brings a sense of accountability to the corporate sector so they look beyond shareholder profit with greater involvement in the public good. In Nepal, where government delivery mechanisms are not up to speed in the social sector and environmental sustainability, CSR is a vehicle for public-private partnerships.
Collaboration with the government is an important aspect of these initiatives since that allows localised campaigns to be scaled up by showing what is possible. For example, the three Metropolitan Cities of the Valley and other private companies are trying to emulate what Ncell has achieved on the Ring Road.
“The Ring Road plantation project has been massively successful,” says Khadka “We were recognised by the Lalitpur Metropolitan City and the Forestry Department for adding greenery to what would have been just an asphalt strip.”

Corporates responsible to society

This is the 72nd 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. My father ran a store and that is where I spent all my time till Grade 6. Doing my homework. Serving customers. I then moved to my maternal grandparents’ house because I used to get along with my cousin who was a year older than me. We did everything together, and were best friends. We took turns studying: I was a night owl, and he was an early riser. Before I went to bed after studying all night, I woke him up. My mother was 44 when I was born, the same year my eldest brother got married. My sister-in-law becoming a part of our family was how my mother referenced my age. I liked making money, and was always a hustler. In Grade 7, I learnt to handle a tractor and helped my brother-in-law to plough, earning Rs10 a day. As I got better, he paid me more. By Grade 9, I was already making Rs500 per day, but had to slow down to prepare for my exams. From an early age I knew I did not want a 9-5 job. There just wasn’t enough money in it. I wanted to get into business, and compared my brother who worked in the post office and what businessmen made. It did not help that my brother was honest, and never took bribes. A friend and I made money selling cheap Chinese phones at a premium to our friends. We blasted music on the phones and pretended that we were giving them a discount. After SLC, I started teaching math and other subjects. I was soon a shareholder in the same school and in the evening I was involved in our family’s floriculture business, growing amaranth and marigold for garlands.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250831020844_1b54b999d67122a50c4c7e6204cc737bcc99bf2a68db6499a4566a7f61a880b4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250831020844_1b54b999d67122a50c4c7e6204cc737bcc99bf2a68db6499a4566a7f61a880b4" data-rendition-name="original" width="955" height="1314" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 72"> </figure>  It was then that a friend suggested we learn the Korean language. We could be earning significantly higher in Korea for similar efforts. I had no plans to go abroad but he convinced me. I did not know anything about Korea, and was scolded at the language institute when I asked someone to point Korea on the map.&nbsp; It was only there that I learnt you had to pass an exam for the Korean Employment Permit System (EPS), and pay for language classes. After a week, I decided it was not for me and dropped out. But my friend convinced me to give it one more try. I did not prepare much for the exam, and it was no surprise that I failed. But it was just by one mark, and people would pity me for failing “just by one mark”. It was a brand of failure. It hurt my ego. I had to turn things around by taking the exams seriously, and locked myself up to study hard.&nbsp; Even when we had visitors, my wife told them I was not home. If I was not in my room learning Korean, I would be with a group of ten of us test-takers comparing notes and practicing late into the night. The exam was difficult, but this time I passed, the only one in my group who did.&nbsp; As someone who never liked the idea of doing a job, I still had my doubts about going to Korea. It did not help that one of my acquaintances had returned a month after he had left, and he discouraged me from migrating given that I was already making good money in Nepal.&nbsp; But my wife suggested that I give it a shot since I had worked so hard for it. And if it really turned out not to be my cup of tea, I could always return. What did I have to lose, I thought, at least I would get to visit Korea. My job there was in an electrical company that made circuit boards. I worked all day, earned good money. In the evenings, I kept myself busy with my real estate business back in Nepal. I had learnt the tricks of the trade from fellow real estate agents back home, but at the time did not have the capital to invest.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250831020848_941e961e2045058f255ad89884b51faa7d2365c68236e5cbe573d63d769ac6c5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250831020848_941e961e2045058f255ad89884b51faa7d2365c68236e5cbe573d63d769ac6c5" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 72"> </figure>  In Korea, it helped that I had salary records that allowed me to get loans from financial institutions both in Korea and in Nepal. Ultimately, I started earning more from my real estate deals in Nepal than from my job in Korea. This was all thanks to my ability to take loans because of the EPS scheme. My wife has been managing the flower business while I was away. My finances grew stronger over the eight years I was in Korea. I paid off the loans that I had borrowed to buy land. But real estate did not satisfy me entirely. I wondered: what is my brand? What will I be known for? What is my contribution to society? Real estate is for wealth, but that is about it. I needed to sell one piece of land and use the revenue to start a venture. I took classes in business, and returned to Nepal six months ago and got back to my family’s ancestral roots in floriculture. In Nepal too, I am continuing the entrepreneurship training I had started in Korea with the Bridge International. Such exposure helps us reflect on our business such as our branding, vision, and proactive aspects like the importance of strong recordkeeping.&nbsp; I am now working to upgrade and expand my floriculture business. With a friend who is still in Korea I am building a cooling room to increase the shelf-life of flowers and other produce and set up a market in my village where others can sell their produce. Floriculture is our primary business, but it is seasonal and earns good money only during festivals like Tihar.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250831020848_a008ffeba13896e6918f68ff6e687c8fe11140d86a96f1ec11690547f2bcd415.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250831020848_a008ffeba13896e6918f68ff6e687c8fe11140d86a96f1ec11690547f2bcd415" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 72"> </figure>  So, I grow tomatoes to ensure year-round earnings. I also am engaged in other businesses like real estate and online shopping. I work round the clock in Nepal — a strong work ethic is something I picked up in Korea.&nbsp; My Korean bosses would work alongside us, that motivated us. I work just as hard in Nepal as I did in Korea. People here often ask me why I am pushing myself so hard. But making garlands comes easy to me, it is work my forebears were involved in. My childhood memories are about plucking flowers with my sister. I have a comparative advantage in this work. It comes naturally to me, it is easy and I enjoy it. And sometimes, if there are too many garlands to make, I can multitask while holding meetings. My fingers just fly. I am good at this job, but my wife is even better and faster.&nbsp; When there is too much load, we can also outsource the work. To be known as the flower guy would be great personal branding. The मखमली guy. Or the सयपत्री guy. I decided to come home for just this with a one-way ticket. “अब पासा: जाँदैन ल्हासा!” &nbsp;