The 7.2M Taiwan earthquake on 3 April was a reminder for us here in Nepal about the importance of preparation with up to code infrastructure, earthquake early warning sensors hooked to mobile &nbsp;networks, seismic risk education in schools, and swift emergency response.&nbsp;
Although 13 people were killed, readiness saved lives. Skyscrapers shook and swayed but did not fall, high-rises tilted but did not collapse. A similar intensity earthquake in Taiwan in 1999 had killed 2,400 people. &nbsp;
This week marks nine years since Nepal’s 2015 earthquakes that killed nearly 9,000 people. It has been four months since a 6.4M quake <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/learning-from-jajarkot-what-we-didnt-after-2015-695vpzle">struck Jajarkot and West Rukum</a> near midnight on 3 November, claiming 153 lives.&nbsp;
In the immediate aftermath of 2015, building codes, earthquake-resistant designs and retrofitting became high priority. But as memories fade, so does the fear. Nine years on, buildings <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-rise-of-high-rises">including high-rises that flout zoning and building codes</a> have come up in Kathmandu while <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-occupation-of-tundikhel">open spaces have further shrunk</a>.&nbsp;
Himalayan seismologists have warned that 2015 was not the Big One, the kind of quake that hits central Nepal every 80 or so years. Neither was Jajarkot the megaquake scientists had expected in western Nepal’s seismic gap. As we have been saying in this paper for the last 24 years, the next big earthquake is ‘not a matter of if, but when’.
While the 14 districts affected by the 2015 disaster have now mostly been rebuilt, and are better prepared, the rest of the country is not. A &gt;8M megaquake in Western Nepal would be a trans-boundary disaster of unthinkable proportions.
In Jajarkot and West Rukum, many <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/jajarkot-survivors-show-collective-resilience">survivors spent the winter </a>without a roof over their heads, and they still await relief to rebuild. The National &nbsp;Reconstruction Authority (NRA) might have taken nine months to set up after the 2015 earthquake, but that disaster should have been a lesson for timely assessment for earthquake relief at the very least.
Nepal is a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/lost-and-damaged">landmine of disasters</a>. Nearly 350 people have died just in the past year in floods, landslides, lightning, and forest fires, and not including Jajarkot. We are now in the thick of wildfire season. Hundreds of forest fires are burning across the country, some for weeks. Three fire-fighting soldiers and three children picking mushrooms were killed by wind-fanned flames just in the past week.&nbsp;
The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-suffers-another-winter-drought">prolonged winter drought</a> should have warned us that this year, the fires would be much worse. But adding fuel to the fires, as it were, is the new trend of burning wheat straw after harvest by farmers.&nbsp;
Fire is always followed by flood, and this year, weather models predict above-normal monsoon precipitation. As it is, monsoons have become erratic with extreme downpours followed by weeks without rain. Mohan Mainali’s ongoing series in Nepali Times <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/people-and-mountains-are-thirsty-in-eastern-nepal">analysing meteorological, hydrological and demographic data from eastern Nepal </a>shows that Nepal has always suffered from either too little or too much water, and this has contributed to outmigration.
Landslides triggered by heavy rainfall along Nepal’s <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/roadkill">poorly designed roads</a> in never-ending states of construction magnify the risk. Landslides can also frequently block rivers, which raises the need for early warning systems.
And if all this was not bad enough, we have the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/sikkim-flood-is-warning-to-nepal">threat of GLOFs </a>from glacial lakes swollen with ice melted by climate breakdown. The water level in the Tso Rolpa glacial lake in Rolwaling was reduced by 3m in 2002, and the water level of Imja Lake was lowered after the 2015 earthquake to mitigate the risk of GLOFs. But these lakes continue to expand as the Himalaya warms 0.7oC faster than the global average.&nbsp;
Thulagi glacial lake below Himalchuli is another one in danger of bursting, and would wash away four hydropower projects downstream on the Marsyangdi River. A GLOF from the precariously situated Lake 464 in the Hinku Valley would race down the Dudh Kosi Valley, into the Sun Kosi and right down to the Tarai.&nbsp;
While these lakes are all dangerous by themselves, they could burst simultaneously during a major earthquake. Which means Nepal must be prepared not just for earthquakes, but the co-seismic risk of catastrophic debris flows along its rivers.&nbsp;
Disaster preparedness means knowing and acknowledging potential without spreading panic and crying wolf. And:&nbsp;
<ul>
 <li>Stockpiling and pre-positioning food and other relief materials</li>
 <li>Investing in search and rescue equipment and training</li>
 <li>Safety drills and earthquake education in schools</li>
 <li>Decentralised first responders with aerial medevac</li>
</ul>
Shristi Karki

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Disastrous preparedness

Kathmandu Valley’s rivers have always been in full spate during the monsoon, but their wide floodplains allowed the water to spread while fertilising the banks with nutrients.
But in a process that accelerated after the multiparty system was restored in 1990, and especially since the Maoist conflict began in 1996, the Valley’s population exploded. The real estate mafia and their political partners gradually encroached on the riverine flats.
Some of the tributary streams of the Bagmati now have roads and houses built over them, others have been squeezed into narrow canals. With just 90mm of rain in 24 hours, these waterways easily overflowed this week, submerging the banks.&nbsp;
“It was not a lot of rain, but it fell over a short period and there was nowhere for the river to go,” watershed expert Madhukar Upadhyay explained to us.&nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/news/thunderstruck-in-nepal">Thunderstruck in Nepal</a>, Shristi Karki
Rainfall patterns have changed with frequent torrential microbursts or prolonged drought due to climate change, but the main reason is that we have constricted the rivers and streams.
“This should be taken as a warning,” Upadhyay added. “This week’s floods could have been as bad as they were in Uttarakhand or Beijing if rainfall was heavier. We should have had strict zoning laws about not building along floodplains.”&nbsp;
Kathmandu’s urban heat island effect meant that this year’s pre-monsoon maximum was up to 5°C higher than average. Trees that would have cooled things down are gone, concrete and asphalt trap the heat.
In winter, the Valley’s air quality is unbreathable and off the charts. Inability to control vehicular fumes, garbage burning and brick kiln emissions means suspended particles are trapped under an inversion layer. The city has now given up trying to control vehicle emissions, and subcontracted it to the private sector.
Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/nepal-needs-to-get-its-climate-act-together/">Nepal needs to get its climate act together</a>, Editorial
Emissions can be curbed with a systematic push towards electric public transport and battery-powered vehicles. This would also mean using surplus clean hydroelectricity that is going to waste. Instead, the government has increased taxes on electric vans.
In his election pledge, Mayor Balen Shah promised to clean up Kathmandu’s air and trash. But there has been no effort to segregate waste, leading to chronic problems at the landfill site. A foreign investment proposal to manage waste and generate power through incinerators is stuck in red tape.
None of this can be blamed on the climate crisis. Media headlines call floods ‘monsoon havoc’, but they are actually ‘human havoc’ — a result of regulatory failure, poor planning, corruption and individual greed.
Yet, there is a climate dimension that is making existing problems worse. A new report by the Integrated Centre for Mountain Development (ICIMOD) shows that Himalayan glaciers shrank 65% faster between 2010-2020 compared to the decade before. At this rate, 80% of the ice mass will be gone by 2100. In addition, springs are going dry and the water table has receded.&nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/un-climate-report-declares-planetary-emergency/">UN climate report declares planetary emergency</a>, Sonia Awale
“We are now past adapting to climate-induced calamities, we have to talk about mechanisms to pay for loss and damage,” &nbsp;<a href="https://climateanalytics.org/events/2023/loss-and-damage-in-south-asia-what-cop28-needs-to-deliver-for-the-region/?fbclid=IwAR0XTyAN82s5-twHW0V5IK2c1nrIeIonmHjJykMc_WDIm1VduBfMfVyjpeg">ICIMOD Director Pema Gyamtsho told a webinar</a> this week hosted by Climate Analytics South Asia. “But while the global community debates loss and damage, climate-induced disasters continue to render many people homeless and hopeless.”
This July was the hottest ever globally, and some weather extremes that climatologists had predicted would take place by 2050 are already happening. World leaders will meet in Dubai at COP28 in November and discuss reparations for climate harm.
“Loss and damage funds may or may not happen, but we in Nepal must take preventive action with local participation immediately,” says Madhukar Upadhyay.
That advice is most relevant for Kathmandu, where federal agencies and mayors must work in close coordination to tackle the Valley’s polycrisis.
Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/we-have-not-respected-the-fragility-of-the-himalaya">“We have not respected the fragility of the Himalaya”</a>, Nepali Times

Sonia Awale

Kathmandu’s Polycrisis

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141132/636bac959c7e80680e077f3ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="933"/><figcaption>Villagers in Rautahat move to higher ground along a road embmankment to prepare for the flood season. This year it coincides with the pandemic, and experts warn that crowded shelters can be hot spots for the spread of the virus. Photo: BIKRAM RAI</figcaption></figure>Even as Nepal braces for the full socio-economic impact of the COVID-19 lockdown, the monsoon brings the risk of yet another disaster – floods.The lockdown has lasted three-and-half months, causing not just a public health crisis but also mass unemployment and economic dislocation. Experts have warned that because the lockdown has not been accompanied by adequate test-trace-treatment, there is a looming threat of community transmission.If that happens, the pandemic <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/after-the-coronavirus-the-deluge/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/after-the-coronavirus-the-deluge/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1594282153999000&amp;usg=AFQjCNH45ArnnHWwf3p04i8SISD5h-eGkQ">peak in Nepal could coincide with the monsoon peak</a> which brings with it an increased risk of landslides and floods.  This year, unusually heavy early monsoon rains have already triggered landslides across the mid-mountains, causing at least 36 deaths.The Department of Hydrology and Meteorology has forecast 100-200mm of rain in 24 hours from Friday onwards into the weekend, warning of flood risk in the central and <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-tarai-learns-from-past-floods/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-tarai-learns-from-past-floods/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1594282153999000&amp;usg=AFQjCNHjQgqhlpUVvl5eApCTDlj0GZnn-A">eastern Tarai</a>. It is not just the precipitation that has <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/flood-of-recrimination/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/flood-of-recrimination/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1594282153999000&amp;usg=AFQjCNFll8mIfpIC-Vxe_TfcdXeq3eqHbA">intensified flood risk</a>, but also poor drainage, denudation of the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/thebrief/2017/07/11/chure-denudation-and-floods/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/thebrief/2017/07/11/chure-denudation-and-floods/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1594282153999000&amp;usg=AFQjCNEBryjJNyUZb8d49R3dodj47Lmy4A">Chure Hills</a>, and road and embankment construction across the border in India that impound water in Nepal.“This is the new normal,” explains Bimal Regmi, a climate change expert at the Policy and Institutions Facility (PIF), a program funded by the British aid agency DFID. “Extreme weather causes floods, but change in land cover and loss of vegetation are aggravate their intensity.”Experts say awareness about flood risk preparedness in Nepal starts when the rains start, and by then it is usually too late. The government also invests more on relief and not enough on prevention. This could change with the new Disaster Risk and Management Act 2017 which puts more emphasis on preparedness and mitigating risk, and also hands more responsibility to first-responders at local government level.“We are now looking at disaster risk management much more comprehensively, and addressing early warning and immediate response at the district and provincial level,” says Anil Pokhrel, head of the National Disaster Risk Reduction and Management Authority.This rainy season, there is the additional risk of COVID-19 and the need to maintain physical separation and maintain personal hygiene in shelters. Unlike the previous years, the pandemic has also brought returnees from overseas and in-country migrants, increasing the population living in areas at flood and landslide risk. People also need to be made aware of maintaining hygiene and physical separation in shelters.“These factors will magnify social, economic, health and political problems,” says retired Nepal Army general and disaster management expert Balananda Sharma.Nepal has enhanced its flood early warning system on major river basins like the Gandaki, Kosi, and Karnali and issues regular bulletins through social media and the mobile network, reducing the loss of life and property in recent years.Says Dinanath Bhandari, an expert on early warning and adviser to the Authority: “Because of limited data, early warning does have its limitations in Nepal. But when there is heavy rainfall, we send out alerts to at-risk communities.”While the national government usually springs into action after a disaster, more emphasis is needed before floods strike. <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/only-half-prepared/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/only-half-prepared/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1594282153999000&amp;usg=AFQjCNEVxtjoSxnZ3vrXXyM6NahadSpxdg">Preventive measures</a> and preparation like better designs for road embankments and drainage need to be integrated into plans.Tapendra Rawal, the Mayor of Tikapur in the floodplain of the Karnali in western Nepal, is aware of this, and uses community action to clear blocked drains and ensure proper outflow before the rains arrive, and he has rafts on standby for flood rescue. This year, he has added  public awareness about COVID-19 precautions to his preparedness plans.At Mahakali Municipality, Mayor Bir Bahadur Sunar says the presence of returnees from India and overseas can be channeled for flood prevention and rescue. He says: “Many people who came back from foreign work are unemployed at the moment, and many have raised concerns about their livelihoods. We could deploy them for flood mitigation efforts.”While the country braces for the coming months, there is also the need to look at the longer term so that the Land Use Policy 2015 is closely followed to discourage settlement in high-risk areas, and in planning for flood risk reduction through livelihood enhancement measures.There are <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-villages-learn-to-cope-with-climate-crisis/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-villages-learn-to-cope-with-climate-crisis/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1594282153999000&amp;usg=AFQjCNGlr8UC_WND2qI2qHZXkfamofjd1A">success stories like the villagers of Kailali and Kanchanpur</a> which have been supported to manage flood risk through agriculture. They plant bamboo and napier grass on embankments and sugarcane on riverbanks to not just protect them from floods, but also augment income from the cash crops.Says Bimal Regmi: “Many communities have used the areas affected by the floods as vegetation for livelihood, degraded land rehabilitation, tree plantation, bioengineering, and other disaster risk management methods to minimise the impact of floods.”It is obvious that these best practices need to be scaled up.@NDRRMA_Nepal on Twitter and NDRRMA on Facebook

Preparing for floods during a lockdown

<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107121148/6368f1309c7e80680e035a19jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="478"/>The monsoon deluge hammers our rooftops and buckets of water seem hurled at our windowpanes by divine hand. Drains clog and swell, streams overflow, and rivers spill onto what is left of roads with their surfaces corroded by wheels and weather. Drenched hillsides release their soil and stones into slips and landslides.Nepal’s summer monsoon floods cause untold misery, damage and disruption, even if we have come to consider them ‘normal’. Draining into the sacred Ganga, Himalayan rivers have not much more than 100m elevation to drop between the southern border with India until they meet the Bay of Bengal 2,000km away. India shares the flooding watercourses and the suffering.At <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/More-trouble-in-Chitwan-National-Park,2956" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Tiger Tops in the middle of Chitwan</a>, it never even occurred to us to try to keep the lodge running during this annual drama. Access across the swollen rivers and overgrown tracks was nigh impossible, the Tarai heat and humidity were oppressive, and the jungle environment more teeming than usual with tics, leeches, scorpions and snakes flooded out of their homes.Closed every year mid-June to mid-September, monsoon was the time for lodge maintenance, repairing roof thatch and bamboo walls, resting the elephants, and with only a skeleton staff who rotated to their villages for six weeks’ annual leave. The tented camps deep in the forest or overlooking riverbanks were packed up and carefully stored to avoid mould, fungus and damp rot, the tent shelters remade, and the jungle kitchens rebuilt.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107121148/6368f1329c7e80680e035a1ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="536" height="432"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Monsoon is a special time to be in Nepal, rewarded with theatrical cloud effects, unexpected sunsets, rain-washed views and profligate plant life, but I was not prepared for the natural violence wrought in the lowlands, cataclysmic erosion changing the landscape. Rivers rose and fell with the relentless rains, swirling brown with topsoil from the middle hills, and carved new courses, gouging their sandy banks and dragging down huge trees in the flatlands of the Tarai. Unnoticed streams became impassable, and even large mammals such as domestic buffaloes and wild rhinos were swept to their deaths. An attempt at crossing the Rapti on elephant back needed to be carefully timed and was never predictable.At the end of this annual onslaught, as rivers settled back into new alignments, <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/So-far-so-good/one-day-of-life-in-the-jungle-chitwan,1005" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Tiger Tops</a> was painstakingly reassembled, repaired, refreshed and polished clean. The National Park roads had to be labouriously remade by hand, jungle trails cleared of encroaching greenery, forest campsites reclaimed, boats positioned for Rapti and Reu crossings, and Land Rovers floated across the rivers, wheels balancing precariously on makeshift rafts made from lashed together wooden boats, ready for the first of the arriving guests.Only elephants could forge their way through the dense towering grasslands that had flourished in the heat and wet, disappearing beneath the delicate pink Saccharum flowers of September. It was the hardest time to show any wildlife-- hidden in the foliage, invisible in the vegetation and with ubiquitous water sources, the presence of animals was only betrayed by swaying grass or crashing branches, and a rare glimpse if you were lucky.A few hardy foreigners, mainly researchers and naturalists, took their chances in <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/So-far-so-good/back-to-Chitwan,1075" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Chitwan</a> during the summer months but I never spent a whole monsoon in the jungle. My role in marketing and communications during the 1980s had me travelling on sales missions and promotion tours, or helping my then-boss Jim Edwards host his annual salmon fishing groups on remote rivers in Iceland.Armed with a free Pan Am air ticket around the world, Jim’s extensive network of contacts, heaps of yellow brochures, a slide carousel (remember those?) and a miniscule budget, every June I would set off around the world to promote <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Nation-quality-control-in-tourism,471" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepal and Tiger Tops, visiting trade shows, travel agents, tour operators and well-wishers on whom we depended for business</a>. Standby travel on Pan Am was uncertain and stressful as we only flew when there were empty seats – with bizarre rules such as a dress code banning denim or jeans which I remember well, having been denied boarding in Chicago due to my blue pencil skirt.Sleeping on the scrounged sofas of kind Nepal-lovers or Jim’s bemused friends, I could visit eight Hong Kong or Singapore travel agents in one day, persuading their weary staff why they should sell Nepal above other destinations. With partners such as Lindblad Travel, Abercrombie &amp; Kent and Mountain Travel USA, we did the rounds of North American and European fairs and travel retailers who formed the interface with consumers in those pre-digital days.Between agent slide shows and promotional events in bland motels, I slept in more strange spare rooms and attended luscious lunches and elegant dinners hosted by Nepal enthusiasts to further ferment their fervour amongst their circle of friends. Taking time out to regroup with Jim in our fledgling London office, I visited conservationists, climbers, filmmakers, journalists, media, museums, zoos, and anyone else we thought might help us sell wildlife and trekking holidays in the distant and still-mysterious kingdom of Nepal.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107121148/6368f1349c7e80680e035a1bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="435"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>So whilst the monsoon raged, my nomadic progress took me to major capitals and cities linked by Pan Am Boeing flights, on a mission to spread the word and help establish what would become the adventure destination of Nepal.

Lisa Choegyal

Monsoon memories

Many of us former Nepal Peace Corps volunteers (PCVs) would agree that our time in Nepal changed in significant but very different ways our perspectives on life if not the future paths we chose to follow. Of no one was this truer than Dorothy Mierow. Dorothy was born in 1920, in Colorado Springs. Her father Charles C Mierow was a classics scholar and Latin professor, who served for ten years as president of Colorado College.&nbsp; Dorothy developed an interest in animals as a child, graduated with a BA degree in natural history from Carlton College in 1942, a Master’s in biology from the University of Pittsburgh, and another Master’s in geography from the University of Minnesota.&nbsp; As a young woman, Dorothy traveled with her father throughout Europe, including a visit to ancient Greek ruins, and took a Magellan Tour by cruise ship around the world in 1958.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025071901074_0bad133ab22aada319e74bbad95d563e191371db291c08f373839fbd15440262.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2025071901074_0bad133ab22aada319e74bbad95d563e191371db291c08f373839fbd15440262" data-rendition-name="original" width="903" height="1178" loading="lazy" alt="How the Peace Corps changed a volunteer's life"> <figcaption>HOME AWAY FROM HOME: Dorothy Mierow as a college student in her native Colorado.</figcaption> </figure>  She was a college teacher during much of the 1940s, also teaching at a girls’ school in Hawaii. Then back to her native Colorado in 1953, where she became a curator and later director of the Colorado College Natural History Museum. She taught geography classes, and in her free time, Dorothy climbed 22 of Colorado’s 14,000-foot peaks. Traveling in India in 1960, Dorothy decided to spend two weeks in Nepal. In late 1961, she filled out an application to join the Peace Corps and specified that she wanted to go to Nepal, ‘because I admired the people so much when my father and I were there on our trip’.&nbsp; Dorothy reached Kathmandu in September 1962 as the first group of American Peace Corps volunteers in Nepal. She stood out from the others: one of the few women in that group, surely the oldest at age 41, a world traveler, and a woman who already had established a professional career.&nbsp; One doubts if Dorothy had had a husband and children whether she would ever have gone to work and spend much of the rest of her life in Nepal.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025071901078_68e84ade1ffb0f6c83c7f8fa5c1e7315b5f6c543217f96cde012e4d86f171515.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2025071901078_68e84ade1ffb0f6c83c7f8fa5c1e7315b5f6c543217f96cde012e4d86f171515" data-rendition-name="original" width="1259" height="910" loading="lazy" alt="How th Peace Corps changed a volunteer's life NT"> <figcaption>Pokhara Bazar in 1962.</figcaption> </figure>  The Peace Corps assigned Dorothy to teach geography at Tri-Chandra College. After the school closed in the winter due to lack of heating, USAID and the College of Education asked Dorothy to help train general science teachers.&nbsp; She taught for two months and became involved in a textbook-writing project, commenting: ‘I would like the children to know something about public health, conservation (the trees are going fast and so is the soil), and learn the names of some of their common birds, trees, and flowers. They are more impressed with electricity, airplanes, and cell structure.’ When a new college opened in Pokhara in 1963, Dorothy was transferred there and lived with a Nepali family. The college boasted 30 students and no permanent buildings.&nbsp; In October 1963, Dorothy wrote: ‘Pokhara is a town of almost 5,000 people … We are in a fertile valley surrounded by foothills … There is a small Mission Hospital … a Leper Hospital and Tibetan Refugee Camp started by the Red Cross and now run by the Swiss. With winter approaching, more Tibetans are appearing in town, often with pack horses or donkeys. Some have been carrying large boxes of powdered milk,donated (by USAID) to the camp from the airport … There is no electricity, and the transportation problems make many items scarce and expensive. I am really a sort of a museum. The landlord brings all kinds of people in to see how I live and count my shoes and dresses. They express amazement at my books, pictures, tin oven, Nepali dolls from Kathmandu, screened food shelves and curtained closet.’ The standard term for Peace Corps volunteers was two years, but Dorothy extended her term and was still at Prithvi Narayan College at the end of 1965, when she wrote that she had 20 Geography students in the first-year class and 6 in the second year preparing for the IA Examination. The college enrollment was 125 students, and the foundation for a new science building was being excavated.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025071901074_c6a80e5e0db0c705b2f8733c6d30dc0386fe3abbd2238ea9d947b7d746f94a29.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2025071901074_c6a80e5e0db0c705b2f8733c6d30dc0386fe3abbd2238ea9d947b7d746f94a29" data-rendition-name="original" width="902" height="605" loading="lazy" alt="How the Peace Corps changed a volunteer's life"> <figcaption>Mierow and friends at Phewa Lake.</figcaption> </figure>  Dorothy noted that she ate one meal a day at the (Shining Mission) Hospital but otherwise lived on dal-bhat, momo, and potato curry at local shops. However, she had developed a new passion: to build what she initially called the Pokhara Museum of the Himalaya. In commendable Peace Corps fashion, Dorothy always worked with Nepalis and respected the culture. ‘The greatest joy and satisfaction I have had has been from the building of a Museum-Library in memory of my parents … It has been possible to feel like a wealthy benefactor with the money saved by father for the family’s education and now available for the education of others… (Father) would have loved to be in on the founding of a new college and be able to plan a library. Several hundred of the books to be in the museum-library came from his collection and were carefully selected to be of use for students in Nepal…’&nbsp; ‘The museum part is to satisfy my own inclinations and was thought of when I found how little diversion there was for the people of Pokhara… It is part of the University requirements for the college that it should have a geography and biology museum. The museum building is small but adequate.&nbsp; I have tried to design it in harmony with Nepalese architecture and decorate it with some of the art of the best artists or woodcarvers… Posts holding up the porch roof are carved by Cottage Industries to represent different peoples of Nepal in typical costumes. The door was carved by a local wood carver and has typical birds of Nepal around it. Inside are 10 roof-support carvings designed by the retired Director of the National Museum in Kathmandu, Mr. C.M. Maskey.&nbsp; They were carved by the best wood carvers in Patan very skilfully. The building has three rooms: the library, the exhibition room, and a smaller workroom which can be used by our newly formed Woman’s Club as well as other groups or classes.’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025071901074_03d3359c65389d30a0134e9a4862778994121e7e833b7d28b18e06e36fc76ff8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2025071901074_03d3359c65389d30a0134e9a4862778994121e7e833b7d28b18e06e36fc76ff8" data-rendition-name="original" width="629" height="599" loading="lazy" alt="How the Peace Corps changed a volunteer's life"> <figcaption>Mierow with local women in Pokhara in 1969.</figcaption> </figure>  Dorothy promoted her project to influential Nepalis connected with organisations whose support she solicited: The Department of Archaeology, the Department of Agriculture, the Godavari Botanical Gardens; Tribhuvan University’s Science and Education Department, Nature Conservation Society.&nbsp; The museum was opened officially in early 1967. The Annapurna Natural History Museum, the building Dorothy designed and had constructed, is still open and features some exhibits which she created many years ago.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025071901074_54326a8a0685e980e782378076de2f5cd02d2426e9b0d94eed972d3dbe83af26.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2025071901074_54326a8a0685e980e782378076de2f5cd02d2426e9b0d94eed972d3dbe83af26" data-rendition-name="original" width="1333" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="How the Peace Corps changed a volunteer's life"> <figcaption>The Annapurna Natural History Museum.</figcaption> </figure>  Dorothy returned to America in 1967, but she longed for Nepal. In the spring of 1969, she again tried to enroll as a Peace Corps volunteer but was told that as she had spent more than four years, she would not be eligible for another assignment. Undeterred, she persuaded the college in Pokhara to invite her to return as a teacher.&nbsp; UNICEF and the Forestry Department sponsored Dorothy to prepare charts on trees, birds, animals and flowers in colour for distribution to the schools of Nepal. Dorothy, back in the Peace Corps, returned to Pokhara and the Museum in 1972. She formed a friendship with her former geography student from Sikles, Chandra Prasad Gurung, and in 1974, she brought Chandra to America, where he enrolled in Colorado College and studied cultural anthropology.&nbsp; Chandra subsequently earned his PhD in geography from the University of Hawaii and returned to Pokhara to become director of the Annapurna Conservation Area Project. Gurung actively promoted ecotourism, landscape conservation, and biodiversity conservation in Nepal. His life was cut short along with those of 23 other Nepalis and foreigners who perished in a helicopter crash near Taplejung in September 2006.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025071901074_322d3c3ac6f1b08ffa07c44a19998b937a7db9eb43527f7539cf6481e1546314.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2025071901074_322d3c3ac6f1b08ffa07c44a19998b937a7db9eb43527f7539cf6481e1546314" data-rendition-name="original" width="2500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="How the Peace Corps changed a volunteer's life"> <figcaption>Mierow's four books on Nepal and its biodiversity. </figcaption> </figure>  Dorothy worked with several well-known Nepalis to publish her paintings and photos in beautifully illustrated books. She and Hemanta Mishra of the National Parks and Wildlife Service wrote Wild Animals of Nepal (Ratna Pustak Bhandar, 1976). More than 400 photos Dorothy took on treks to the Everest region, Gosaikunda, Muktinath, Jumla and Rara Lake, as well as travels in the Tarai, appeared in Himalayan Flowers and Trees (Sahayogi Prakashan, 1978).&nbsp; The botanist Tirtha Bahadur Shrestha identified the species. Dorothy and Kesar Lall published This Beautiful Nepal (Sahayogi Press, 1981). Birds of the Central Himalayas (1988) contained Dorothy’s paintings of 250 species of birds found along the areas of the Kali Gandaki River, Pokhara, Chitwan and the central Tarai. Dorothy summed up her life and work in Nepal in Thirty Years in Pokhara (Pilgrims Book House, 1997). Dorothy returned to Pokhara and her adopted Gurung family several times during the 1980s and 1990s to celebrate festivals and meet old friends. Her final years were spent at her mountain cottage in Green Mountain Falls north of Colorado Springs. She died at the age of 79 in August, 2000. Nepal gave new meaning and purpose to Dorothy Mierow’s life. Daniel W Edwards was a Peace Corps volunteer in 1966 and is the author of several books on Nepal. The author thanks Special Collections, Tutt Library, Colorado College.

How the Peace Corps changed a volunteer’s life

· On the night of 15 May, two glacial lakes burst in Tharka in Humla and the debris flow washed away homes and bridges.&nbsp; · Last week, a slurry surge on the Kali Gandaki in Upper Mustang caused at least Rs15 million in damage, and was traced to a melting glacier. · Dozens are feared dead after <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/rasuwa-flood-likely-a-glof">an expanding glacial lake in Tibet overflowed</a>, sweeping down into Nepal and damaging four hydropower plants generating 230MW, nearly 8% of the country’s total grid supply.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250718060748_45225dc707c1e9c2968ca8dbf6e564e01e4eb6e2ff254fb8eb940cf62cdd910b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250718060748_45225dc707c1e9c2968ca8dbf6e564e01e4eb6e2ff254fb8eb940cf62cdd910b" data-rendition-name="original" width="2667" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Rasuwa flood"> <figcaption>Miteri friendship bridge connecting Nepal and China was swept away in the Rasuwa flood. Photo: PRAKASH CHANDRA TIMILSENA / NPL</figcaption> </figure>  And those are just in the past month. Climate scientists say Himalayan glacial lake outbursts are becoming more frequent and destructive, and a warning for Nepal not to put all its eggs in the hydropower basket.&nbsp; <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/when-it-rains-it-pours-ksqprbu3">Record precipitation last September</a> unleashed floods that killed 200 people, and temporarily slashed Nepal’s total generation capacity of 3,000MW by nearly half. The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-valley-suffers-quadruple-disaster">Melamchi flood of 2021</a> caused by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/the-not-so-permanent-frost">permafrost melting</a> on a glacier upstream nearly destroyed a $800 million water supply scheme, Nepal’s largest infrastructure project which four years later still has not resumed full operation. The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/sikkim-flood-is-warning-to-nepal">glacial lake overflow in Sikkim</a> caused by record rainfall in September 2023 that destroyed the $1.2 billion Chungthung Dam and caused catastrophic damage to infrastructure on the Teesta River. This was a warning to the cascade of hydropower plants on the Arun and Marsyangdi river basins.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250718060736_6f61797a6be308321e3bae26e55d2f64cba4b9e5eb262adacb9e92fb5f3c6152.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250718060736_6f61797a6be308321e3bae26e55d2f64cba4b9e5eb262adacb9e92fb5f3c6152" data-rendition-name="original" width="919" height="549" loading="lazy" alt="hydro disasters and hydropower plants"> </figure>  Nepal has set a target of generating an additional 28,500MW by 2035 -- out of the feasible 48,000MW -- but how viable is an energy strategy that is exposed to heightened risk due to climate breakdown? &nbsp; “As extreme weather events increase, we must design and build infrastructures respecting river flow and topography,” says former Energy Secretary Dwarika Nath Dhungel. “We must make the best use of our water resources, but not by letting excavators loose everywhere mining riverbeds and building haphazardly where we shouldn’t.”&nbsp; Although no project can be disaster-proof, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/climate-smarter-himalayan-infrastructure">climate smart design</a> can minimise damage from flash floods and landslides. Recent disasters have driven up insurance premiums for energy projects in Nepal, and smaller ones cannot even afford them. The 456MW Upper Tamakosi hydroelectric project which is still not fully functional after the September floods has claimed insurance worth Rs1.8 billion. The alternative to high risk high investment hydropower projects is <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/what-s-cooking-in-nepal-besides-politics">energy diversification</a> to other renewables such as solar, wind or biogas. Nepal gets annual sunlight of 300 days with 6-7 hours on average to total 50,000 terawatt-hours (TWh) per year.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250718060744_4acd452b4117180ca9bb5d3be839ff46dfd5464e4d507f5ad3704cef6253bc48.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20250718060744_4acd452b4117180ca9bb5d3be839ff46dfd5464e4d507f5ad3704cef6253bc48" data-rendition-name="original" width="1080" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="solar power"> <figcaption>Farmers in Tarai using solar powered water pump. Photo: GHAMPOWER</figcaption> </figure>  The Solar and Wind Energy Resource Assessment (SWERA) calculates that Nepal could source 3,000MW from wind energy alone, considering 10% of the area with more than 300W/m2 wind power density. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/people-power/decentralising-power-in-nepal">Solar energy</a> stations are cheaper and quicker to build, and would be an ideal alternative to reliance on hydropower.&nbsp; “There has been some investment in solar power, especially from the state sector,” says water expert Madhukar Upadhyay. “But there is an issue of land acquisition since the arrays need a lot of space. It is comparatively easier to get a permit to put up a hydropower plant on a river.” As for biogas, there is simply no incentive to build on past success with household level plants to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/more-bullshit">promote industrial-scale production</a>. Scaling up biogas by integrating it with urban biodegradable waste would still be a viable alternative to LPG.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250718060744_715d44afd5eb4ba8dafa209b0ad0f19400665797b5f078f5636821e600f96684.jpg" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20250718060744_715d44afd5eb4ba8dafa209b0ad0f19400665797b5f078f5636821e600f96684" data-rendition-name="original" width="1419" height="954" loading="lazy" alt="windmill"> <figcaption>A wind mill in Hapsikot in Nawalpur. Photo: WINPOWER NEPAL</figcaption> </figure>  Nepal’s public sphere is buzzing with excitement over the discovery of potentially 430 billion cubic metres of methane gas beneath Dailekh district that, if properly harnessed, would meet the country’s energy demand for the next 50 years. Even though a feasibility study is awaited, politicians from the prime minister down see this as a petro bonanza that will make Nepal rich. But drilling, storage and distribution of CNG in the country’s current kleptocratic state make that unlikely. If Nepal was to get rich solely on its hydro-energy potential, it could have done so in the past 50 years. Says Dhungel: “This is not exactly a new discovery, but it is premature to celebrate until its extraction is proven to be cost effective. And let us hope it does not get <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/balance-of-power">tangled in geopolitics</a>, since China is involved in the prospecting and drilling, which could make India uneasy.”&nbsp; The country suffers from the Dutch Disease curse even before its resource is fully exploited. And the same cronyism, corruption and rent-seeking structure cannot deliver the riches we expect from Dailekh’s methane discovery. Now, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/right-climate-for-nepal-s-energy-transition">with hydropower in jeopardy</a>, Nepal’s planners will have to evolve a new strategy for energy security into the future. But first, governance needs to be cleaned up with long-term strategic planning that takes climate risk into account. For example, do we need to mine fossil gas when there are renewable options? Will Dailekh take Nepal away from its climate commitments? Says Madhukar Upadhyay: “Nepal has always been resource rich and management poor. And the larger the resource, the bigger our management incapacity. It is a societal malaise.”&nbsp;

Nepal’s Resource Curse

Nepalis are living longer than ever. By 2028, the country is set to join the ranks of other <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepals-demographic-window-is-closing">ageing societies</a> around the world, and by 2054, 1 out of every 7 people in Nepal will be over 65. Life expectancy at birth has risen dramatically from just 55 in 1990 to 71 today, &nbsp;thanks to improvements in public health and access. But as more people live longer, the country must also prepare for a parallel rise in age-related illnesses and the complex social and medical needs that come with an <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/need-to-prepare-for-ageing-society,3624">ageing population</a>. Extended families have always acted as a safety net for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/home-sweet-home-for-older-nepalis">the elderly</a>, with children and grandchildren shouldering most caregiving duties. But with more than 1,600 <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/migration-not-a-wish-but-necessity-for-nepalis">Nepalis migrating </a>every day, older parents are left behind with no one to care for them. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/the-new-equaliser">Remittances</a> from migrating youth, which account for nearly a third of Nepal’s GDP, have kept the economy afloat. But money sent home cannot make up for the chronic departure of kin and caregivers, who are often the first to catch the signs and symptoms of disease in elders. In rural areas where over 85% of Nepal’s elderly live, the absence of this daily vigilance means early signs of illness often go unnoticed until they become debilitating. As a result, chronic conditions like hypertension, diabetes, and depression are left unmanaged.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250720130748_213f2c65f2638872e9ac0550a7ac251e4960c3726dc5c76215962a23ba71dff1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250720130748_213f2c65f2638872e9ac0550a7ac251e4960c3726dc5c76215962a23ba71dff1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1064" height="701" loading="lazy" alt="Smart ageing is Nepal’s next frontier"> </figure>  Geriatric medicine is largely absent from medical curricula and there is no national plan in place to manage cognitive decline, memory loss and confusion. These are often mistaken for signs of normal ageing, instead of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/dementia-brings-new-problem-that-families-have-little%20knowledge-of,2151">dementia</a>, delaying care until it is too late. The same pattern plays out with strokes, osteoarthritis, and vision problems — conditions that could be managed early but are instead allowed to spiral into <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/changing-disability-to-this-ability-h68f6sq2">disability</a>. Nepal is not ready for an older future. It needs a strategy for ‘smart ageing’ where the focus is not adding years to life, but enhancing years lived through the intelligent application of policy, infrastructure, and crucially, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/tech-and-transition-in-nepal">technology</a>. Many models of smart ageing, however, are sculpted around modern societies where independent living in later life is the norm. Furthermore, eroding traditional family care and an underdeveloped formal care system means there is a large gap that can’t simply be filled by copy-pasting from foreign models. Nepal must shape its own version of smart ageing. The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/healthcare-moving-from-hospitals-to-homes?%2F">tech boom</a> has led to homegrown digital healthcare apps such as Hamro Doctor, Cura Health, Jeevee and Health Yaad Ayo which offer teleconsultations, online appointments, and at-home test bookings. As <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/nepal-s-new-digital-landscape">smartphones and internet access</a> extend to the most rural fringes of the Nepali countryside, geography is no longer a barrier to the use of these digital tools. What limits their use is the lack of digital proficiency among the older generation. Others find the idea of turning to a device instead of a familiar, reassuring face unfathomable. That is why <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/addressing-nepals-digital-divide?ref=blog.togglecorp.com">digital literacy</a> efforts must be paired with guided human support to build trust alongside technical skill. Such a model of community-led digital mediation is already gaining traction elsewhere. In the UK, ‘digital health ambassadors’—often young people or even schoolchildren—are trained to co-design and advocate for online platforms that resonate with peers who might otherwise feel excluded from automated health services. A Nepali version could engage cohorts of nursing students, tech-savvy youngsters and returnee migrants to assist elders in navigating digital health platforms and troubleshooting problems, and most of all, normalising the idea of health apps being a reliable recourse.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250720130748_fcb94ab76e76b5574189757e88d76fccad4e115e78dd9eae92a3bd4c882c3431.png" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20250720130748_fcb94ab76e76b5574189757e88d76fccad4e115e78dd9eae92a3bd4c882c3431" data-rendition-name="original" width="2246" height="1590" loading="lazy" alt="Smart ageing is Nepal’s next frontier"> </figure>  Nepal’s own network of Female Community Health Volunteers (FCHVs), whose credibility is rooted in long-standing relationships across rural communities, could be similarly upskilled, their roles in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/target-2030-for-maternal-and-newborn-health">maternal and child health </a>expanded and repurposed to also include geriatric tech support. However, there is a limit to how much older adults can adapt to new technologies. So, Nepal should simultaneously invest in passive technologies—tools that monitor and act for the elderly, instead of demanding active use. That is where wearables and in-home smart health devices collectively known as 'gerontechnology' come in. Picture an 82-year-old in far-flung Rolpa, away from the facilities of an urban hospital. Installed in her home are low-cost motion sensors that monitor prolonged inactivity or signs of a fall, instantly triggering alerts to the nearest health post when necessary. On her wrist, a wearable bracelet continuously tracks her sleep, vital signs, oxygen saturation, and glucose levels. This data is encrypted and synced to a digital dashboard accessible by health staff at the local post. If the system flags an acute risk—such as a potential stroke or hypoglycemia—a nearby health worker is dispatched immediately to her home. If her readings over time indicate a trend toward a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/why-do-so-many-nepalis-have-high-blood-pressure">chronic condition</a> like diabetes, community health volunteers step in. They help schedule a virtual consultation with an endocrinologist in Butwal. Based on the advice received, she gets a prescription and picks up her medication from the local community pharmacy, along with a smart dispenser to ensure she sticks to her treatment plan without missing doses. This is not as far-fetched as it may sound. Many of the individual devices forming this connected medical system called an Internet of Medical Things (IoMT) already exist in Nepal as imported commercial products. What is missing is a stronger framework for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/business/public-health-partnership">public-private collaboration</a>: one where health tech companies continue developing locally adapted tools, and the government actively integrates these innovations into public health delivery. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/people-power/nepal-as-an-ai-power-bank">Nepal’s tech ecosystem</a> is maturing, but policymaking must evolve in tandem, especially when it affects an older generation largely resistant to change. The backlash against the recent mandate requiring National Identity Cards for accessing social security benefits revealed the pitfalls of imposing top-down reforms without adequate preparation or support for seniors. For Nepalis to age well, community caregivers, doctors, innovators, and above all, the state, must step in where families have stepped away. The goal is not to replicate traditional care, but to build a coordinated system of support that connects everyone through technology. The future is older for Nepal, let us be wiser too. The writers are pursuing their undergraduate studies in biomedical engineering at the Hong Kong Polytechnic University.

Smart ageing is Nepal’s next frontier

चौतारा rest stops have long been an integral part of scenic touristic town of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/pokhara-six-decades-ago">Pokhara </a>but are now rarely seen as the city bursts at the seams. They say inhabitants of Pokhara saw a plane before they saw cars. Indeed, the grass airfield was built in the 1950s, while the Kathmandu highway 20 years later. Before roads, people walked to get around, pausing to rest or even nap under the shade of banyan-pipal trees. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/pokhara-s-desperation-and-hope">Pokhara airport’</a>s ‘terminal’ in those days was a shady chautara where passengers waited for their flights. The chautara bore silent witness to daily life, whether it was travellers seeking a brief respite from the summer heat or villagers gathering for a chat in the mornings and evenings. But with the roads came vehicles, and then houses started filling up spaces, even farmlands. Pokhara began transforming from a serene village to a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/pokhara-comes-alive-at-night">bustling city</a>.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250719010724_d101fa482441ce67afdf5bc4e4547b334e7662c1cf0a20e9d31a0e8dff66f04b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250719010724_d101fa482441ce67afdf5bc4e4547b334e7662c1cf0a20e9d31a0e8dff66f04b" data-rendition-name="original" width="2147" height="1581" loading="lazy" alt="Trees of life and living NT"> <figcaption>Photo: DURGA RANA MAGAR</figcaption> </figure>  The banyan-pipal trees were chopped down to make way for wider intersections and buildings. The once-iconic rest stops that carried Pokhara’s identity had all but vanished. “Building chautara was once considered a religious duty, which is why so many of them were constructed across Pokhara,” says archivist Sunil Ulak. <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=10927">Ekai Kawaguchi</a>, a Japanese Buddhist monk, who visited Nepal 120 years ago en route to Tibet, documented <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/no-visitors-in-pokhara-to-admire-view">the landscape of Pokhara</a> and its surroundings. In his book, Three Years in Tibet, he reflects on the natural beauty of the town and its shady trees. A chautara used to be surrounded by ponds, where shepherds would bring their cattle to drink from while they took a nap under the shade. The gentle rustling of leaves in the cool breeze lent a soothing melody as did the chirping of birds, while the insects took refuge in the branches and leaves. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/pokhara-800-years-ago">Pokhara 800 years ago</a>, Kunda Dixit This ‘nature’s breeze’, as botanist Kalyan Panta puts it, is now history due to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/cost-of-living-in-a-big-city">haphazard urbanisation</a>. “When the wind strikes against one leaf, it creates a domino effect and other leaves start waving as well,” he explains. There were 632 chautara in the city until 1977, and by 2000 the number had fallen to 278. But in some wards the number of trees fell from 55 in 1984 to only five now.&nbsp; The gradual loss of these resting places has meant habitat <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/between-existence-and-extinction-in-nepal">destruction of birds and insects</a>, it has also damaged the environment and natural beauty of the city.&nbsp; Researcher Jagannath Adhikari’s study showed that infrastructure projects ignored the environment, and concluded that that urbanisation in Pokhara was unsustainable.&nbsp; The destruction continues to this day. Recently, old chaurata in wards 6, 13 and 14 were cleared to make way for a sacrificial ritual. In fact, ward 6 got a permit from the local government to clear its remaining trees.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250719010724_cee1d4faf8376e7ba18b9c7012ea4215b7c3fbf7e0983b0c97005df5567d6de0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20250719010724_cee1d4faf8376e7ba18b9c7012ea4215b7c3fbf7e0983b0c97005df5567d6de0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Trees of life and living NT"> <figcaption>Photo: DURGA RANA MAGAR</figcaption> </figure>  But in wards 13 and 14, the Human Service Foundation cut down some 33 trees for which it is in a dispute with the metropolitan city as there is no unclear jurisdiction regarding who gives the permit. The Kaski Division Forest Office is currently investigating the matter. Elsewhere in ward 19, the ward office had launched ‘मेरो रूख, म काट्छु’ campaign due to an alleged chaos caused by monkeys in the area. The decision was rescinded after an all-around opposition.&nbsp; To be sure, there are policies in place to protect trees such as the Gandaki Province Forestry Act, 2080, and the Regulations, 2081. The province government also introduced an act in 2019 per which no tree, including pipal, silk cotton and other <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/suburban-tales/trees-trees?%2F">trees of natural and historical importance</a> shall be damaged, eroded or removed. But the local government, responsible for implementing the Act, is doing the opposite. “If this rapid rate of tree felling continues, neither trees nor chautara will survive for the future generation,” conservationist Ram Bahadur Poudel tells us, adding that old trees are being cleared under the pretext of pruning branches. Interestingly, Ulak notes that Pokhara-8 was called सिमलचौर in the past because there were so many majestic silk cotton trees, but there are very few left, if any, and hence altering the identity of a place. With modernisation, people have questioned the significance of chautara in this day and age. But they still have relevance. Urban centres in Pokhara and Kathmandu are much hotter than the outskirts because of the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/in-the-heat-of-the-moment-5xcycyot">urban heat island effect</a>. Says archivist Ulak: “While their original purpose was to provide rest, today they continue to play a crucial role in regulating temperature, beautifying the city, and preserving our environment.”

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