The COP30 climate summit in Brazil ended this week <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/cop30-to-cop31">without tangible commitment</a> from countries to reduce fossil fuel emissions. Its impact will be felt halfway around the planet here in Mustang which is already seeing weather extremes.&nbsp; Geographically, Mustang is on the Tibetan Plateau, north of the main Himalayan chain. It is in the rainshadow, and a high altitude desert. Winter snow has failed for eight of the past ten years, unseasonal blizzards, and frequent glacial collapse leading to floods. The Kali Gandaki Corridor follows one of the deepest gorges in the world between Annapurna and Dhaulagiri, the world’s seventh and tenth highest peaks. Lush pine forests cover the southern flanks of these mountains, but within a few kilometers the vegetation undergoes a dramatic change to a landscape of red, brown and grey cliffs.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_c66ade5e32d20530003abba893869426d75b42d10e4725c28361d738b402721f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251129021144_c66ade5e32d20530003abba893869426d75b42d10e4725c28361d738b402721f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  It gets more arid the more north you go. Snow and rain in Upper Mustang used to fall mostly in winter, but now there are cloudbursts and blizzards at other times of the year.&nbsp; In the ancient walled city of Lo Manthang, elderly men have gathered at a local tea shop to drink the salted butter tea. Some sip home-made liquor infused with medicinal herbs.&nbsp; The sun has set, the temperature plummets, and the wind howls outside. Everyone agrees it does not snow like it used to any more. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/comings-and-goings-in-mustang">Comings and goings in Mustang</a>, Shrijan Pandey  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_ffaabf00a533984cadf160b2e56734cddb6f64d1a660401417d2982a3818f161.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251129021144_ffaabf00a533984cadf160b2e56734cddb6f64d1a660401417d2982a3818f161" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> <figcaption>The flat mud roofs are leaking because rain is now falling where there used to be snow.</figcaption> </figure>  “The weather has changed drastically over the years,” says Lopsang Tsomfel Bista, Chair of the Lo Dekhar Municipality. “It doesn’t snow in winter, and it falls when it is not supposed to.”&nbsp; Lack of snow means that in spring, the pastures where nomadic herders graze their yaks and goats do not have enough grass. Previously, winter snow on the meadows would seep slowly into the soil with the spring thaw, bringing out fresh grass shoots. &nbsp; In recent years, even if there is winter precipitation, it falls as rain. The soil is not able to soak in rain as efficiently, and torrential downpours increase the risk of soil erosion and floods.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_93ca69bec63577c5f6cbff8db809c11bce2d8fe01469d3374c20a6f20a7c93f1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20251129021144_93ca69bec63577c5f6cbff8db809c11bce2d8fe01469d3374c20a6f20a7c93f1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  “There used to be up to 1,500 mountain goats in every village, but now they have stopped keeping livestock,” says Bista. This is due to lack of grass and new lowland diseases moving up the mountains. Mustang has lost 28% of its population between the census in 2011 and 2021, and outmigration also means there are fewer people left to carry on a pastoral lifestyle.&nbsp; “Herders have asked for vet services in their communities because there are new insect-borne diseases,” says Yangchen Dolker Gurung of the Lo Gyalpo Jigme Foundation. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/winds-of-change-sweep-mustang">Winds of change sweep Mustang</a>, Jagannath Adhikari  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_902593732af83db5792128be5a3bd87c00e0c62ff894afa4c98bffde64e96d26.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20251129021144_902593732af83db5792128be5a3bd87c00e0c62ff894afa4c98bffde64e96d26" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> <figcaption>The mud walls of monasteries and homes are crumbling because of unseasonal rainfall. </figcaption> </figure>  Mustang is flanked to the east and west by mountains that rise up to 6,000m, and glaciers on their slopes are melting fast, turning into lakes. With the rising temperature, the risk of Glacier Lakes Outburst Floods (GLOFs) has also risen.&nbsp; At the rate global average temperatures are rising, scientists say that the Himalaya will lose up to two-thirds of the remaining ice caps. When glaciers melt, it not just raises the risk from GLOFs but also affects water supply downstream.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025112903114_1a6af68965ded5f23897a623bec2e2bed0da4c6663f0af5b5bf79883f2a11c9f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="2025112903114_1a6af68965ded5f23897a623bec2e2bed0da4c6663f0af5b5bf79883f2a11c9f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1022" height="767" loading="lazy" alt="Mustang map NT"> </figure>  FLOODS Ringzin Sangbo Gurung in Chumjung village recalls the devastation caused by a GLOF on 8 July this year that swept away a newly inaugurated bridge. The floodplain is now strewn with boulders and sand brought down by the flood which caused damage worth Rs28 million. The flood also damaged the irrigation canals that feed riverside farms where locals grew potato, buckwheat, millet and spinach. Nyima Wangmo Gurung runs a homestay in Nyamdok village, and says: “We don’t have water when we need it. And there is too much when we don’t need it.”&nbsp; Read Also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/mustang-forced-to-adapt-to-climate-crisis">Mustang forced to adapt to climate c</a><a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/mustang-forced-to-adapt-to-climate-crisis">risis</a>, Ronan Wallace and Yungdrung Tsewang Gurung  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_7ae98274ea20e910311ec4431ba0aa3ecd9fe92caaed029a33c185198b33d0d2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20251129021144_7ae98274ea20e910311ec4431ba0aa3ecd9fe92caaed029a33c185198b33d0d2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  With warming temperatures, farmers in Mustang are growing lowland vegetables which was not possible before in plastic greenhouses. The farms depended on snowmelt in spring to irrigate their fields, but there is less snow to melt in past years. “The last heavy snowfall in winter was about eight years ago, since then we have got little or no snow,” says Tashi Norbu Gurung, Chair of Lo Manthang Rural Municipality. “This affects farmers during the April planting season.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_010e09f4e9335f39c62f4d6027489c86423b3d10ddfb83558820f6a7a56a477b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20251129021144_010e09f4e9335f39c62f4d6027489c86423b3d10ddfb83558820f6a7a56a477b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  It is not just lack of snowfall that is a problem. Springs have gone dry, and some villages like Dhey have been forced to relocate because life became &nbsp;impossible without water.&nbsp; Villagers of Samjung also <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/climate-migration-is-already-happening">migrated</a> to Namashung, near a river when water sources dried up. But now the new settlements are threatened by GLOFs. Karma Gurung, who runs a lodge in Choser, remembers the big flood of 35 years ago which swept away farms and covered them with debris. There have been more frequent, but destructive floods since then in Kagbeni, Lubra and other valleys. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/mixed-blessings-in-mustang">Mixed blessings in Mustang</a>, Mukesh Pokhrel  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_da2212bc1ad49c17d126e24bbd92d3fca18e3e6bdd58ac61df14c962deb2edcd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_14" data-image-id="20251129021144_da2212bc1ad49c17d126e24bbd92d3fca18e3e6bdd58ac61df14c962deb2edcd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  MUD WALLS Because snowfall has been replaced by rain, Mustang’s traditional mud-wall architecture is now in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/leaky-roofs-on-the-roof-of-the-world">danger of collapsing</a>. The homes here are closely packed, have flat roofs stacked with juniper branches for firewood. With rain in place of snow, the roofs now leak.&nbsp; Women in Thinkar village say their walls are falling apart. Some homes have collapsed, and families forced to move out. Yangchen Dolker Gurung of the Lo Gyalpo Jigme Foundation says locals need plastic sheets, cement walls and corrugated roofs to cope with the rain.&nbsp; But this would mean that Mustang’s villages would lose their traditional architecture style.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_59c475cdde3bee8d03ed05e9038c0cf36f1acd31e3d3596f145469e5b4404d9d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_16" data-image-id="20251129021144_59c475cdde3bee8d03ed05e9038c0cf36f1acd31e3d3596f145469e5b4404d9d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  The ancient 1.5m thick mud walls around Lo Manthang built 600 years ago, the king’s palace, and monasteries are also at risk. “Changes in precipitation patterns, altering the intensity, frequency, and timing of rainfall and snowfall, have damaged traditional and cultural infrastructure, particularly mud-built private and public buildings as well as religious and heritage sites,” explains Bhawani Pandey at the Lo Gyalpo Jigme Foundation. “With the rain, and because the monuments and stupas are made from mud, they have eroded. There is leakage, and the monuments are in a dilapidated condition.” Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/climate-smarter-himalayan-infrastructure/" target="_blank">Climate-smarter Himalayan infrastructure</a>, Sonia Awale  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_dfc8c93a0a8619893f0d97076d1f9cbba3818e1cc716a903ff9908dbb8939ef6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_18" data-image-id="20251129021144_dfc8c93a0a8619893f0d97076d1f9cbba3818e1cc716a903ff9908dbb8939ef6" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  The Lo Manthang Rural Municipality along with Lo Gyalpo Jigme Foundation, are working on a Local Adaptation Plan of Action and the Disaster Preparedness and Response Plan, which the Nepal government has made mandatory for every municipality. “We took a bottom-up approach and collected data from each village, they know best the impact of climate change and what their needs are,” says Yangchen Gurung. To address the hazards of climate change, local communities and municipalities are adapting through their own resources, without waiting for outside help to improve water conservation, control soil erosion and protect from flood.&nbsp; Says Pandey, “We are returning to conserving traditional drought-resistant crop varieties, organic pest and disease control, cultivating high-value crops and fruits, and practicing sustainable pasture management through rotational grazing. We have also developed new building codes for homes that incorporate water-resistant coating for mud roofs and walls.” &nbsp; Additional Reporting by Tashi Wangyal. &nbsp;

original

674x448

610x380

500x500

400x266

400x240

400x203

301x200

1250x600

1084x550

thumbnail

viewImage

Too little snow, too much rain

Milan BK is busy installing camera traps, checking its GPS location and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/sisterhood-of-the-snow-leopard-protectors">peering through binoculars</a> at outcrops on the other side of the valley for signs of snow leopard movement. BK is 15 years old and still in school, but he handles the tracking equipment like a pro. He is a member of the conservation group from Thini village in the shadow of Mt Niligiri in Mustang. Sonia BK is in Grade 7 at the Janwal Secondary School in nearby Marpha, and learnt <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-leads-in-snow-leopard-study-6bo3zybk">about snow leopards</a> in class, and is now being trained with her parents in tracking and monitoring the elusive and endangered animals. &nbsp; “At first, I thought snow leopards were just cats, but after I started learning about their behaviour and habitat in school, I realised why it was<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/guarding-the-guardians-of-the-himalaya"> important to protect them</a>,” she says. Milan and Sonia were part of a snow leopard conservation program involving 750 students from Grades 6, 7, and 8 in schools across Mustang and in Taplejung district in eastern Nepal.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250814110824_b04fbd665db49f9dd1292f72b97759790d51438394eabdf3bedb22bf06f12fe0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250814110824_b04fbd665db49f9dd1292f72b97759790d51438394eabdf3bedb22bf06f12fe0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1800" height="1013" loading="lazy" alt="Youth action to protect the wilderness NT"> </figure>  Their fieldbook was the Conservation Education Reference Book published by Nepal’s Department of National Parks and Wildlife Conservation, Teka Group Nepal and the US-based Snow Leopard Conservancy. “The book helps teach students about conservation, involves the community in conservation activities, and enables them to value <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/on-the-tri-junction-of-wildlife-conservation-conflict-and-co-existence">coexistence between humans and wildlife</a>,” says author Anil Adhikari of Teka.&nbsp; He adds, “The students will grow up to be the guardians of the community, enabling them to understand the importance of conservation from a young age will have long-term benefits for the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/trekking-to-save-nepals-snow-leopards">protection of snow leopards</a>.” The young conservationists are now putting their theoretical knowledge into practice by participating in the Snow Leopard Scouts Monitoring Camp and Snow Leopard Nature Tour organised across 12 communities in the cat’s habitats in Mustang and Taplejung.&nbsp; Snow leopards live on steep slopes at elevations from 3,000-5,500m and are found in 12 countries besides Nepal: India, Bhutan, Pakistan, China, Afghanistan, Tajikistan, Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Mongolia, and Russia.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250814100824_766e41651af1efabbc937685aa5e3e94a3e58e8fb55a9752adad1d0667c32071.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250814100824_766e41651af1efabbc937685aa5e3e94a3e58e8fb55a9752adad1d0667c32071" data-rendition-name="original" width="1508" height="865" loading="lazy" alt="Snow Leopard map"> </figure>  The government's census earlier this year put the number of big cat population in Nepal at 397.&nbsp; The animal is at the top of the Himalayan food chain and therefore an indicator species of a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/people-tigers-trees-and-rivers">healthy ecosystem</a>. Their presence indicates that their prey base, including sables, ghoral and musk deer are also in abundance. &nbsp; The mainly nocturnal hunters are endangered due to increasing <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/not-out-of-the-woods-yet">human-wildlife conflict</a>, poaching, and effects of the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/climate-change-is-a-disaster-in-the-nepal-himalaya">climate crisis</a>. In response, Nepal launched the Community-Based Snow Leopard Conservation Program in 2022.&nbsp; “The children might get bored with regular lessons, but they study this reference book with great interest,” notes Dhruba Baral, a conservation teacher at Janashanti Secondary School in Kagbeni. “The students are aware that snow leopards attack livestock, but there is now greater awareness about safely corralling yaks and sheep, as well as protect snow leopards.” Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/ghosts-of-the-himalaya">Ghosts of the Himalaya</a>, Sonia Awale Bheshraj Bastola, a conservation teacher at Janhit Secondary School in Jomsom takes students on field trips to see how to minimise human-wildlife conflict, and the role of the community.&nbsp; “Students understand these issues through factual stories from conservationists and experts, community work and interactions with parents,” he says.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250814110824_5213a45ea9ff4aa50d9ef06ad6e8354d441321b588d87dd0602ccf9f216f79d8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20250814110824_5213a45ea9ff4aa50d9ef06ad6e8354d441321b588d87dd0602ccf9f216f79d8" data-rendition-name="original" width="1800" height="789" loading="lazy" alt="Youth action to protect the wilderness NT"> </figure>  Sanju Sanwa, a Grade 8 student &nbsp;in Taplejung, learned about snow leopard conservation from books. Now, she teaches her parents about protecting <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/snow-leopard-redux">the big cats</a>.&nbsp; “The children in this region have never seen or encountered a snow leopard, but they know about its habitat, diet, and behaviour,” says Chandramani Limbu, a school principal in Taplejung. Mustang’s Gharpajhong Rural Municipality has now included snow leopards in the curricula for Grades 1, 2 and 3. Taplejung’s Faktalung Rural Municipality has done the same in the east. Snow leopards are considered culturally and spiritually significant to Nepal’s indigenous mountain communities, and are regarded as ‘<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/guarding-the-guardians-of-the-himalaya">God’s pets</a>’. This has helped in conservation efforts.&nbsp; The indigenous communities in the Himalaya were already bound by tradition and religion to protect snow leopards, the conservation laws came along much later, says snow leopard expert Kamal Thapa. “The people understand that the snow leopard is a vital part of the ecosystem, and have taken &nbsp;ownership of the animal and its protection,” adds Thapa.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250814110824_ffe5fb4b91e503d3dcdcfea8d363b4445f971dd90716c269d4b5335a93b61797.jpg" data-media-id="editor_14" data-image-id="20250814110824_ffe5fb4b91e503d3dcdcfea8d363b4445f971dd90716c269d4b5335a93b61797" data-rendition-name="original" width="1800" height="1013" loading="lazy" alt="Youth action to protect the wilderness NT"> </figure>  Recently, a snow leopard broke into a livestock shed and killed goats in Mustang. The animal was captured and reintroduced into the wild by Annapurna Conservation Area (ACA). &nbsp; “Snow leopards are usually rescued and released elsewhere,” explains Umesh Poudel, head of ACA in Lo Manthang. “We operate under the assumption that the animals will not be similarly disruptive in a new area.” Snow leopards have been trapped or poisoned by local herders. Some animals also venture into lower valleys in winter in search of prey.&nbsp; “Farmers used to get angry when livestock was killed, but there is now more awareness that the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/crying-wolf?fb_comment_id=1845044222229359_1845929162140865">predators need protection</a>,” says Jamuna Thakali Thapa, vice-chair of Gharpajhong. Farmers are also insured so they are compensated in case of livestock loss. The deeply devout Buddhists here rarely engage in retaliatory attacks against snow leopards because they consider the animal sacred, and also because they are well aware of legal repercussions.&nbsp; “Learning about snow leopards from childhood makes more people <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/remembering-nepal-s-conservation-heroes">inclined towards conservation</a>, and has a long-term positive impact on the community,” says Narayan Rupakheti, former Under Secretary at the Department of National Parks and Wildlife Conservation. The youth-led conservation programs in Mustang and Taplejung is now being replicated in other snow leopard regions. &nbsp;

Youth action to protect the wilderness

Every year in the first month of the Tibetan calendar, devotees observe the ritual of Lo Monlam Chenmo within the holy month of Saga Dawa to mark the birth, enlightenment, and parinirvana of the Buddha. Lo Monlam Chenmo literally translates into the Great Prayer Festival of Mustang and earlier this month was observed for a week during which devotees chanted mantras over a million times for the long life and wellbeing of all sentient beings, for the continuation, survival and spread of Dharma, and for world peace.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250612090640_4d20d5af25d55ea83e6ee9784a53e689b683172433678fc9cdf1566f53a08013.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250612090640_4d20d5af25d55ea83e6ee9784a53e689b683172433678fc9cdf1566f53a08013" data-rendition-name="original" width="2222" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="A million mantras in Mustang NT"></figure>  The annual prayer vigil drew 578 monks and nuns and hundreds of local people to the monastery town of Jharkot near Muktinath. The festival has been observed for over 600 years, but saw a decline in the second half of the 20th century when Monlam Chenmo was used to pray for the long life of the Dalai Lama. “Lo Monlam Chenmo was revived in Nepal seven years ago with much donation from the locals, many of whom have migrated overseas,” says Kunjon Thakuri of the Norbusum Foundation in Jharkot supporting traditional culture, local education, and the preservation of Mustangi heritage. “The festival will be held in Upper Mustang next year and again in Lower Mustang the year after, as the two regions take turns every other year.”  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250612090640_d71a82b0d6f523a482d329177d8c477ec41ead13b23fab9fa96d558a85a0b003.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250612090640_d71a82b0d6f523a482d329177d8c477ec41ead13b23fab9fa96d558a85a0b003" data-rendition-name="original" width="2222" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="A million mantras in Mustang NT"></figure>  The festival is also celebrated in Tibet, parts of Nepal including Kathmandu, Ladakh and Sikkim in India as well as Bhutan. The Monlam Chenmo festival was first conducted for two weeks at the start of the new year in Tibet in 1409 by Lama Tsongkhapa to commemorate the miracles performed by Shakyamuni Buddha. The final day is the full moon which was on 11 June this week, is also called the Day of Miracles when several festivals and rituals are held.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250612090640_f46dd6637308bec26b0d9416defe9173d40b2580734b1a9b76421715d19a48bd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250612090640_f46dd6637308bec26b0d9416defe9173d40b2580734b1a9b76421715d19a48bd" data-rendition-name="original" width="2222" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="A million mantras in Mustang NT"></figure>   <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250612090640_c96c61cd0bd46b66f28eb1f436dcee2cd95a6b368b35c3ea1a44cb131e3e17bd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250612090640_c96c61cd0bd46b66f28eb1f436dcee2cd95a6b368b35c3ea1a44cb131e3e17bd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1607" loading="lazy" alt="A million mantras in Mustang NT"></figure>  “The grande finale is considered an auspicious day for prayer and practice, and good deeds on this day are multiplied exponentially,” adds Thakuri. “As such, all major Buddhist shrines including Swayambhu and Boudhanath see prayers gather from midnight on the last day. Many attempt a 21 kora clockwise circumambulation of Swayambhu on the very day, a gruelling 30km on foot. Others do a 108 circumambulation of a sacred site during the month of Saga Dawa as a way of purifying one's karma and gaining spiritual merit.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250612090640_a8f518e680714a0a2f7227ffed1c321cfa4e424a150c09c1a9ed7ec90c2ef486.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250612090640_a8f518e680714a0a2f7227ffed1c321cfa4e424a150c09c1a9ed7ec90c2ef486" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="A million mantras in Mustang NT"></figure>  Throughout the festival, devotees can also choose to perform their own puja including श्राद्ध, a Hindu ritual to honour deceased ancestors. Jharkot’s proximity to Muktinath also means that the festival is observed by Hindus and Buddhists alike. Devotees also abstain from killing and harming living creatures as well as practice vegetarianism for the whole month of Saga Dawa, in line with the Buddhist principle of non-violence (अहिंसा). People can also choose to make donations (दान) including drinks and food to participating monks and monasteries in acts of compassion.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250612090640_db8325c332b9f794fa84748bbfac0b59a5061f042ab6eac592f74ae6074b9835.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250612090640_db8325c332b9f794fa84748bbfac0b59a5061f042ab6eac592f74ae6074b9835" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="2217" loading="lazy" alt="A million mantras in Mustang NT"></figure>  In many ways, the festival bears similarities to another month-long celebration observed by Newar Buddhists, primarily in Kathmandu. Gunla, which translates into the month of merits, is the tenth month in the Nepal Sambat calendar which typically falls during the monsoon. Gunla is a time for spiritual reflection on the Dharma by reciting the scriptures, fasting, playing devotional music, going on pilgrimages and attaining the five moral precepts known as the (पञ्चशील) -- abstaining from killing, stealing, sexual misconduct, lying and taking intoxicants.

Sonia Awale

A million mantras in Mustang

As a struggling photographer in Bhaktapur 30 years ago, Kishor Kayastha could not even afford furniture. Buying a new lens was out of the question. Later, as one of Nepal’s <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=1520">top fashion and travel photographers</a>, Kayastha toured the world, doing shoots in exotic places for famous brands. Money was not as much a limiting factor anymore. Then came the accident. The shoot team was caught in a blizzard in Mustang in 2019, when Kayastha and the horse he was riding tumbled down a steep slope in whiteout conditions.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025010810014_4df10f4086c81192b5e9fdda030c3d2b2b186b549c9b0683a6922dc4b4699ce6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2025010810014_4df10f4086c81192b5e9fdda030c3d2b2b186b549c9b0683a6922dc4b4699ce6" data-rendition-name="original" width="3714" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Eyes wide open in Mustang NT"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250108050116_fe7e94e613c7c6de648043252095475c789260a9a66f88d5d7e349bab9f21c98.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250108050116_fe7e94e613c7c6de648043252095475c789260a9a66f88d5d7e349bab9f21c98" data-rendition-name="original" width="1366" height="911" loading="lazy" alt="Eyes wide open in Mustang NT"> </figure>  “My whole life flashed before me,” he recalls, “I was filled with regret for all work I had not done. I suddenly realised all the money in the world cannot buy you life. Miraculously, Kayastha survived and the near-death experience was an epiphany that changed the trajectory of his life. Since then, his photographs have a more dreamlike tone, the visuals documenting an observed reality but transcending it. Which is why a visit to Kishor Kayastha’s ongoing exhibition of 30 ultra-wide panoramas at Nepal Art Council, MUSTANG: A Two-Decade Odyssey, feels like a pilgrimage to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/hibernating-students-of-the-himalaya">Mustang</a>: it is the next best thing to being there oneself. The high resolution prints are vast, some of them 6m wide, and do justice to Mustang’s big sky and the wrinkled, ochre terrain of this arid trans-Himalayan district. Kayastha has been going to Mustang at least four times a year for the past two decades, and the exhibition spans the time in which much has changed with the arrival of the highway, outmigration and climate breakdown. But a lot remains the same. “I first went in 2004 mainly because I could not go to Tibet,” Kayastha relates. “And I found there is a Tibet in Nepal, too. Mustang has always been a refuge, a beyul, to escape the materialistic world of Kathmandu.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250108050116_41d004484b0a3471cc441b23360fe187eda813c19ca26314795215f428ddcbaf.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250108050116_41d004484b0a3471cc441b23360fe187eda813c19ca26314795215f428ddcbaf" data-rendition-name="original" width="1366" height="911" loading="lazy" alt="Eyes wide open in Mustang NT"> <figcaption>Photos: SUMAN NEPALI</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250108050116_131a471fb81aa7d0d314bf08bd5912951bb20d0d3b6977e1c1ff523da6456500.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250108050116_131a471fb81aa7d0d314bf08bd5912951bb20d0d3b6977e1c1ff523da6456500" data-rendition-name="original" width="1366" height="912" loading="lazy" alt="Eyes wide open in Mustang NT"> </figure>  Kayastha, now 47, was born into photography. His <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=14249">parents owned a studio</a> in Bhaktapur, and as a boy he helped his mother in the darkroom, dipping black and white prints into developers and fixers under a dim red light. Today, everyone with a mobile device is taking pictures, but Kayastha believes photography is more relevant than ever: “Selfies have become selfish. Like they said that the invention of the camera would make paintings obsolete, photography is not going away either.” &nbsp; Anyone who has travelled north of Kagbeni, especially <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/mustang-in-shadows-and-light">in the old days</a> before Sumo jeeps replaced mule trains, will appreciate the tranquility of this windswept plateau where time stood still.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250108050116_d478c15cb66377326d0ef88b70f38eaeb9f20b97bd06d7753f04671550881545.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250108050116_d478c15cb66377326d0ef88b70f38eaeb9f20b97bd06d7753f04671550881545" data-rendition-name="original" width="1366" height="911" loading="lazy" alt="Eyes wide open in Mustang NT"> </figure>  “The horizon is so wide, the sky so immense, the land so unending that Mustang makes you feel small in the scheme of things. It brings you down to size, both physically and spiritually,” Kayastha says. The extra-wide prints were so big, even the Nepal Art Council’s walls could not accommodate all of them, so Kayastha had to scale some of the photographs down. The sheer size of the images evoke in visitors the finiteness of human existence in time and space.&nbsp; Kayastha speaks to us as he unrolls a stitched panorama of Kagbeni he took in 2004. That image and another one taken from the same spot in 2024 serve as bookends at the exhibition, revealing through repeat photography the passage of time. Kagbeni’s monastery complex is now much bigger, there are new concrete buildings, and scars from <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/what-is-lost-cannot-be-repaid">the great flood last year</a> that tore through town.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250108050116_063acabfe6e991f69e1d5eaace3620b4136f2212135f899a5ac0c4e5011e31e6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20250108050116_063acabfe6e991f69e1d5eaace3620b4136f2212135f899a5ac0c4e5011e31e6" data-rendition-name="original" width="1365" height="910" loading="lazy" alt="Eyes wide open in Mustang NT"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250108050116_cb401c5d83a34e999f96ab24a69dae2cbe525d575a3a798182ab09bab2490628.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20250108050116_cb401c5d83a34e999f96ab24a69dae2cbe525d575a3a798182ab09bab2490628" data-rendition-name="original" width="1365" height="910" loading="lazy" alt="Eyes wide open in Mustang NT"> </figure>  Yet, beyond and above the Kali Gandaki’s fossil-strewn banks, the russet brown folds in the rock strata remind us that in geological timescale human beings have been here for less than a millisecond of a camera’s shutter speed. Kishor Kayastha’s exhibition forces us to think that Mustang’s fierce afternoon winds will keep sculpting its dyed organ pipe cliffs long after we are not here to see them.&nbsp; MUSTANG: A Two Decade Odyssey by Kishor Kayastha Till 14 January, 11AM-4PM Nepal Art Council

Kunda Dixit

Eyes wide open in Mustang

Before the road got here to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/mixed-blessings-in-mustang">Nepal’s prime apple growing region</a>, the bumper fruit harvest would rot in the orchards in autumn. Farmers tried to feed apples to livestock, but the cattle were sick of eating it. There were few jobs, a war was going on, and most young men migrated out of this spectacularly scenic but isolated region along the Kali Gandaki River between Annapurna and Dhaulagiri. &nbsp; Saroj Tulachan was one of them. He left his small homestead near Tukuche and walked five days to Pokhara, took a bus to Kathmandu and through contacts got a job as a chef in Japan. “I was just like a coolie there, working in the kitchen, but I learnt a lot about farming techniques in my spare time, and kept dreaming of the day I would return to Nepal with savings in my pocket,” says Tulachan. But it took him 16 long years to come back. &nbsp; But much more important than savings, he came back with a dream. In the beginning, like most <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/50-diaspora-diaries-in-nepali-times">returnees</a>, he struggled to adjust and find a meaningful job to pay for high living expenses. Then the Covid pandemic hit, and Tulachan fell ill.&nbsp; “I said to myself, why am I staying in the city when my home in the mountains is safe and a heaven on earth?” Tulachan recalls, his face wrinkled in a wide smile.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240719070744_9a3e0f07e70d7c2b0c2b0f717c947e09a8d2fffb31a25fc7e1690171897f5846.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20240719070744_9a3e0f07e70d7c2b0c2b0f717c947e09a8d2fffb31a25fc7e1690171897f5846" data-rendition-name="original" width="1750" height="1313" loading="lazy" alt="Mustang farmer shows what is possible despite government NT"> <figcaption>He has combined his apple farm with an eco-tourism resort in the lap of Mt Nilgiri, added a cold store and expanded his orchard.</figcaption> </figure>  Tulachan’s dream was always to return to his native <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/leaky-roofs-on-the-roof-of-the-world">Mustang</a>, Covid just made him bring the plan forward. What he has achieved since coming back is a remarkable example of passion, simple technical innovation and marketing skills transforming rural Nepal in just a few years. Improving on the knowledge about <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/tara-pariyar-s-karnali">apple farming</a> that he learnt from his father, Tulachan uses a high-density tall spindle farming method to grow apples vertically like vines rather than trees. The system improves productivity through early yield, better fruit quality, and reduced costs for care. Each plant produces more than a much bigger tree of the local Marpha variety, and the fruits fetch a higher price in markets in Pokhara and Kathmandu. In the past year, business has been so successful that Tulachan has expanded from the orchard he inherited from his father to buy and lease more property along the Kali Gandaki floodplain. He is also helping neighbouring farms in Tukuche, Marpha and Jomsom to adopt the new technique. “It does not make sense only for me to do well, the whole community needs to benefit,” says Tulachan. “What is most important is self-fulfillment and happiness, I can’t take my money with me when I die.” And Tulachan is happiest among his apple trees. He is up at the crack of dawn and with his garden shears is off for a morning of pruning, training and grafting apple plants. He has built his own <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/access-to-water-changes-the-face-of-rural-nepal">irrigation system</a> channeling water from a nearby stream. Learning from his Japan stay, he has also established a ryokan-style inn called Mustang Eco Hill Resort by the Pokhara-Jomsom highway with a restaurant serving organic produce from his farm, and a gift shop.&nbsp; A new addition to Tulachan’s <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/what-sustainable-tourism-means-in-practice">eco-tourism</a> and apple orchard venture is a cold storage which evens out the autumn glut after the apple harvest when prices are low, so the fruits fetch a higher price in April-May.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240719070744_e6340bb121f63c35a376fc72eba640e8cc6e5bbb74464b26742ba3dddde1696a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20240719070744_e6340bb121f63c35a376fc72eba640e8cc6e5bbb74464b26742ba3dddde1696a" data-rendition-name="original" width="2500" height="1166" loading="lazy" alt="Mustang farmer shows what is possible despite government NT"> </figure>  “If you want to get rich quick, this is not your line of business,” warns Tulachan, walking between neat rows of tall spindle apple stems to check on his drip irrigation system. “You have to be patient, and plan ten years into the future.” His Japanese high density apple variety takes only three years to ripen, compared to 15 years for local trees. Presently, the farm harvests 18 tons of apple every season, and with the new plants in his expanded farm, Tulachan expects 40 tons. The farm makes Rs3.5 million in profit every year, which goes for upkeep, servicing loans and upgrading his inn.&nbsp; Traders now come all the way from Kathmandu to book Tulachan’s apples. His apple varieties sell for Rs400 per kg at Bhatbhateni department stores, more than three times more than the traditional Marpha variety. A flag of Nepal flutters proudly in the afternoon wind on the roof of the Mustang Eco Hill Resort, and Tulachan says Nepalis who stop at his farm marvel that there is a place like this in Nepal. He has set an example that it is possible to run a profitable business and create jobs despite the government. He says: “There is no point blaming the government, we can do a lot by ourselves. If they just scaled up what I have done here to the national level by investing in tourism, agriculture and hydropower, Nepal can also be prosperous.”

Mustang farmer shows what is possible despite government

Mustang district is in the cold and arid trans-Himalayan region of Nepal, and used to get very little rain. But with climate breakdown, precipitation patterns have changed, bringing frequent winter drought and summer floods. This is forcing families here to abandon traditional flat-roofed, mud-walled house designs for modern reinforced concrete and brick structures that can better withstand heavy rainfall. Most flat roofs of Mustang homes used to be stacked with precious firewood, and the size of the pile indicated the family’s affluence. A large stack suggested wealth, and even better marriage prospects. Roofs lined with juniper branches are still an integral part of Mustang’s architecture and identity, and is a tourist attraction in a part of Nepal that is geologically and culturally close to Tibet. The firewood fits together like tetris, capping the clay roofs of houses with sloping rammed earth walls, traditionally plastered with white, black and orange clay. The late artist Robert Powell documented Mustang’s architecture with detailed paintings in his book, Earth Door Sky Door (pictured) which explained that the firewood on the roof, besides signifying status, also protected the clay roofs and walls from melting snow. The front yards and porches of these houses are laid in stone, as are the main paths that run through towns like Marpha. Altogether there is a cohesive, congruent feeling to the architecture.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024071906070_2f3802c7544ab3492acea14a615a4f465a520402e22e4e40d8694a76414dc17c.png" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2024071906070_2f3802c7544ab3492acea14a615a4f465a520402e22e4e40d8694a76414dc17c" data-rendition-name="original" width="817" height="664" loading="lazy" alt="Leaky roofs on the Roof of the World NT"></figure>  But the roofs on the Roof of the World are changing. Unusually heavy rains caused by the climate crisis means the roofs now leak and the mud walls dissolve in downpours. Traditional buildings are being torn down to be replaced with cement houses. Mustang is now connected to the rest of Nepal by a new highway, and this means families use LPG cylinders to cook and do not need firewood anymore. Kamala Linchin runs a hotel built in the local style in Marpha, but is replacing it with a multi-storey cement structure. “Even after repairs, there are a lot of problems with this house,” she explains, “The firewood rots, the roof leaks, and the walls break down. It is costly to maintain and I am losing business.” Linchin has noticed the change in weather patterns: it snows very little, if at all, in winter, and there are summer storms that unleash flash floods and torrential rain. She adds, “It used to snow so much in Mustang that you couldn’t leave your house for months. We stored firewood for cooking and heating. But it doesn’t matter how much firewood you store now, it rots quickly, and water starts dripping from the roof.” Two years ago, her neighbour Ripesh Linchin was also forced to build a concrete house with a sloping tile roof. He tells us: “The firewood on the roof may look photogenic for tourists but it leaks, and your sons want a more comfortable house. What to do?”  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024071906074_a14ddd5493310227facabab2a5722423fab361cf201585d1a69822aa7cc3e035.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024071906074_a14ddd5493310227facabab2a5722423fab361cf201585d1a69822aa7cc3e035" data-rendition-name="original" width="2250" height="1688" loading="lazy" alt="Leaky roofs on the Roof of the World NT"><figcaption>Juniper firewood on a roof of a house in Lo Manthang. Photo: KUNDA DIXIT</figcaption></figure>  In nearby Gharpajhong, village chair Mohan Singh Lalchan has data that show a shift in the style of houses. Sixty of the 600 houses in the village now have tin or concrete roofs and the trend is catching on. Gas cylinders are available even in the remotest villages in Mustang, so people do not need to stack firewood on their roofs anymore. This is not necessarily a bad thing: government-subsidised gas means less pressure on high altitude forests where trees take a lot longer to grow. Kitchens are also less smoky now, so children are less exposed to respiratory ailments. Just about every family in Mustang has someone working in Japan, South Korea or the US, and the money they send means households can buy cooking gas, and build modern houses. The main reason for the shift, though, is climate breakdown, Lalchan says, adding: “It used to snow so much that flights at Jomsom airport would be cancelled for weeks, but it’s been a while since that happened. Now the only snow we see is on top of Mt Nilgiri.” Rainfall data from Nepal’s Department of Hydrology and Meteorology also shows heavier precipitation in summer. In 2010, there was 286mm of rain in Jomsom. By 2018, total precipitation was 301mm. In 2020 403mm of rain fell, with a whopping 666mm in 2021. In the last 14 years, average annual rainfall has doubled, sometimes triggering destructive flash floods like the ones in Lubra and Kagbeni. Data also shows an increase in temperature. In 2011, the average annual temperature here was 17.68°C, and last year it was 18°C. Other meteorological stations in Mustang show similar increases.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024071906074_f70c10a5189deedf82a66a1f5a4b986c7705184adccaaeb5ba5db060b538a9d2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2024071906074_f70c10a5189deedf82a66a1f5a4b986c7705184adccaaeb5ba5db060b538a9d2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1750" height="2376" loading="lazy" alt="Leaky roofs on the Roof of the World NT"><figcaption>The late artist Robert Powell's book Earth Door Sky Door had paintings of Mustang's architectural heritage. One of the water colours shows a traditional Mustang house with sloping rammed earth walls and firewood on the flat roof.</figcaption></figure>  Environmental researcher Hemu Kafle warns that even a 0.1% change in average annual temperature or rainfall can cause drastic changes in weather. In Manang and Mustang districts, vegetables can now be grown and apple orchards have recorded higher yields. Sociologist Krishna Bhattachan notes that the most affected by these changes are Mustang’s indigenous people. He says, “For many of Mustang’s natives, cement will never be an alternative to wood, culturally and economically. The government needs to help find an ideal solution.” Tourists have to pay a $500 fee for a 15-day permit to visit Upper Mustang where visitor numbers are controlled to protect local culture. Mustang has been voted among the 52 must-go places by the New York Times for the second year in a row in 2024, and what attracts tourists is the region’s unique and fragile heritage and architecture. The firewood roof tradition is an important part of the tourism economy even as globalisation homogenises the world. Juddha Gurung is an expert in natural resources and tourism, and he thinks the way to go is to make local communities more aware of their heritage so they protect it. “The number of new-fashioned houses is still quite small. This is a result of economic and social change in the locality, so the local government must get active about this,” says Gurung. Head of Gharpajhong village Mohan Lalchan is worried that modernity and climate change will erode Mustang’s identity, affecting tourism. “We are examining how we can support local families to keep the traditional look of their homes,” he told us. Architects say a compromise between modern architecture and tradition is possible. A firewood-stacked roof need not be demolished to prevent leaks. In fact, some homes have poured concrete on their roofs while keeping the traditional façade of the stone and clay plaster houses. With another monsoon now bringing fresh showers, Mustang looks like it is in a race against time to save what is left.

Leaky roofs on the Roof of the World

On 28 May, as the rest of Nepal was celebrating Republic Day, here in Mustang King Jigme Singe Palbar Bistawas being treated like royalty. The king himself is deeply involved with many problems faced by this once-isolated finger of Nepal sticking out into the Tibetan Plateau. Although there is now a road linking Lo Manthang to the rest of Nepal, the district faces challenges of under-development, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/comings-and-goings-in-mustang">lack of jobs and outmigration</a>, cultural preservation, and lately the impact of climate breakdown. As the king travels around his district, the people of Mustang treat him with visible affection and respect. And the feeling seems to be mutual. The district survives mostly on income from tourism and remittances from Mustang people living in Japan, Korea and the United States. The mostly elderly residents come out to greet their king and their main concern is about the lack of water due to the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/mustang-forced-to-adapt-to-climate-crisis">climate crisis</a>. Winter snowfall has failed for several years, while there are torrential downpours during the summer in this usually arid region. There have been destructive floods when glacial lakes burst last year in Kagbeni last year and in Lubra in 2021. Elsewhere, entire villages have had to relocate because springs and streams have gone dry. The king was born in Thingkar village in Upper Mustang 67 years ago, and remembers there used to be much more snow in the mountains during his childhood. “The whole landscape has changed, the snow and the ponds are all gone,” he tells us during a walkabout.&nbsp; “In the past, the weather pattern was predictable, snow in winter, some rain the monsoon and the winds would blow as expected,” he adds. “Now everything is unpredictable. The future does not look good at all.” Data from the Jomsom station of the Department of Hydrology and Meteorology shows that average annual temperature rose from 17.7°C in 2012 to 18.2°C last year. This trans-Himalayan region is in the rainshadow, but <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/soon-monsoon">summer rain volume went up</a> from 286mm in 2011 to 666mm in 2021, damaging traditional stone and mud houses. But in winter there has been no snow for several years. The change in weather has also forced many to abandon traditional flat top architecture for tin roofs and cement walls. Warmer weather means new pathogens are moving up the mountains, but also apple orchards and vegetable patches are possible where it was too cold before.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240611040648_add720880bcfcd6a04270ba9ad854f1b6a1457c5c55b012e147fc6b4e3bd5a0e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20240611040648_add720880bcfcd6a04270ba9ad854f1b6a1457c5c55b012e147fc6b4e3bd5a0e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1750" height="2965" loading="lazy" alt="Mustang king NT"> <figcaption>Jigme Singe Palbar Bista, the monarch of Mustang</figcaption> </figure>  “The climate crisis poses a threat to all traditionally built houses, including monasteries, and heritage structures,” says the king, who is actively involved in climate adaptation work through the Lo Gyalpo Jigme Foundation, named after his father. “We are now carrying out a comprehensive study of how climate change will affect Mustang, and will plan depending on findings.” The king fondly remembers his father, Jigme Dorje Palbar Bista, who died in 2016. He says he worked tirelessly for the development of Mustang and the welfare of its people. During his reign, he focused on reconstructing and preserving dilapidated monasteries and shrines and ensuring that Mustang was not affected by politics in Kathmandu, and by geopolitics.&nbsp; “My father always kept the welfare of the community as his number one priority,” says the king.&nbsp; Jigme Palwar Bista owned 65 horses, but his son owns only 5 — an indication of the diminishing importance of horses after the road from Jomsom to the Chinese border was built ten years ago. As a boy, the king used to travel three days on horseback from Jomsom, and the animals were integral to the culture and daily life of the Mustang people.&nbsp; Last year, during the wedding of crown prince Jigme Dhindup Phunchok Palwar Bista, Lo Manthang rural municipality declared a public holiday and residents brought their horses to the celebration — altogether 250 of them. “I wanted to hold my son’s wedding in Kathmandu, but the citizens insisted it should be here,” the king confided. “We didn’t ask them to bring their horses, but out of love and respect for the institution, they brought their own horses for the celebration.” The king now spends part of his time in Kathmandu where he looks after his 92-year-old queen step mother. But the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/winds-of-change-sweep-mustang">hustle and bustle of Kathmandu</a> makes him homesick, and he longs to be back to also take care of his resort in Lo Manthang. The eldest brother of the previous King Jigme Palbar Bista died at a young age, another brother became a monk in Dolpo. The former king’s own son also died at a young age, and when his biological mother died, the current king was adopted as the heir to ensure continuity of the royal lineage. The king says Mustang will need help from the international community to cope with the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/what-is-lost-cannot-be-repaid">impact of climate breakdown</a>. He says, “We also need to understand the changing climate better, and unite to adapt to its impact.” &nbsp;

The kingdom within a republic

This article originally appeared in <a href="https://www.thenation.com/issue/may-2024-issue/">the May 2024 issue of The Nation</a> magazine. My first glimpse of Kagbeni in Mustang came with a mix of relief, elation, and a cold foreboding. I had been walking north with my Nepali guide, sturdy 50-year-old Manoj Tamang out of Pokhara, for four days. Dhaulagiri at 8,167m looming to the west and the Annapurna massif to the east, until we had put them behind us.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/soon-monsoon">Soon, monsoon</a>, Anita Bhetwal Now in their rain shadow on the north side of the Himalaya, the landscape quickly turned from alpine to arid high-mountain grassland and desert. We would spend two nights and a full day in Kagbeni at 2,804m before continuing up to Jharkot and Muktinath (3,800m), still the ‘foothills’ by Himalayan standards. Hence the relief, especially for my 56-year-old back and legs which were no match for Manoj’s. As for the elation, it came not only from the vista of Kagbeni’s terraced fields and orchards appearing, like some miraculous oasis, at the foot of barren cliffs and snowless mountainsides.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240518030540_48e8edcc734cc1dd82514c3d142ad8027b57fe9fd6af2186be6623b39bc90ca6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20240518030540_48e8edcc734cc1dd82514c3d142ad8027b57fe9fd6af2186be6623b39bc90ca6" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Kagbeni"> <figcaption>A view of Kagbeni, looking north up the Kali Gandaki valley.</figcaption> </figure>  Since the 12th century, Kagbeni has been the “gateway” to the ancient Kingdom of Lo, known today as Upper Mustang, a restricted area on Nepal’s border with China. Yet today’s Mustang, as <a href="https://doi.org/10.1080/14672715.2023.2174891">recent scholarship</a> by the anthropologist Emily Amburgey and others has shown, is no idyllic Shangri-la, thanks to its mix of poverty, uneven development, government neglect, out-migration of the young, and, increasingly, symptoms of climate change (like those snowless mountains during my January visit). Indeed, the foreboding came when I remembered why I was there. Last August, Kagbeni suffered a devastating flood—brought on by extreme rainfall—the likes of which no one living there had ever experienced. I wanted to see the damage and the recovery effort for myself—and I wanted to hear from local people about what climate change means for their lives and communities in the <a href="https://hkh.icimod.org/hi-wise/hi-wise-report/">fast-warming Himalaya</a>. * Kagbeni is built along both banks of the Kag Khola river where it flows into the Kali Gandaki from the east. The original 12th century town, with its traditional flat-roofed mud houses and its medieval monastery and fort, lies on the north side, and the newer part of town to the south.&nbsp; The confluence of the two rivers, sacred to both Hindus and Buddhists, has made Kagbeni an important stop on the age-old pilgrimage route to the ancient Muktinath temple complex farther up the Kag Khola Gorge. The area is now heavily touristed thanks to a major road completed in 2008. That first afternoon, I made my way along the new town’s main street until it opened suddenly onto what still looked, five months after the flood, like a war zone. The grey rubble of rock, sand, and dried-mud debris, a block wide and a story high, stretched a good 200 yards along both sides of the narrow river.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240518030540_a02fc741e3dd0e6c639460c046d8fc29a7fd953be48ab0ff731a7f5cee272621.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20240518030540_a02fc741e3dd0e6c639460c046d8fc29a7fd953be48ab0ff731a7f5cee272621" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1536" loading="lazy" alt="Kagbeni flood"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240518030544_60cfb13b9bbcd268a6dfe68cdab45678260fc5156e32c3bf0e74a00043b06791.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20240518030544_60cfb13b9bbcd268a6dfe68cdab45678260fc5156e32c3bf0e74a00043b06791" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1536" loading="lazy" alt="Kagbeni flood"> </figure>  &nbsp;The floods that sweep down these river gorges do not just carry water, they consist of a thick, heavy flow of cement-like silt, mud, and rock that levels everything in its path and raises the riverbed by many feet. Think of it not as sea-level rise but riverbed rise, putting homes, schools, stupas and temples, infrastructure, and fields in greater peril with each new flood, which comes more often as global warming alters the South Asian monsoon. Rinzin Namgyal Gurung, the Kagbeni rural municipality chair, laid out the extent of the flood damage for me in an email: eight buildings completely destroyed, including a hotel, a government ward office, a health centre, and a police station, and 19 that suffered partial damage, including the monastery and the secondary school.&nbsp; In all, 27 buildings designated as residential or hotels were destroyed or damaged, plus nine ‘crucial public structures’ (water supply and treatment, irrigation canals, sewers, electricity stations, bridges, and river retaining walls) ‘were also severely affected’. This is a town of just 600 people. Gurung also listed the full extent of recovery funding and assistance the town received from Nepal’s national government: “Ministry of Home Affairs, 10 heavy tents and 15 blankets.” Assistance received so far from international NGOs: none. In the absence of such aid, the Mustang community in Nepal and abroad, has stepped up with a grassroots fundraising campaign. As Mustang faces another monsoon season, the question of longer-term survival is on some people’s minds. * Laxmi Gurung is 49 years old and was born in Kagbeni, where her ancestors have lived for eons. She was away in Kathmandu when I visited Kagbeni, but I caught up with her the following week in the capital’s Swayambhu neighborhood. Laxmi and her brother, a former local-government chairperson, own and run Kagbeni’s Hotel Mustang Gateway and its iconic <a href="https://www.facebook.com/yacdonald/">YacDonald’s restaurant</a>.&nbsp; Together, they founded the Fama Foundation to help preserve Mustang’s traditional culture as the region rapidly develops. Educated at universities in India and New Zealand, Laxmi attended COP28, the latest United Nations Climate Change Conference, in Dubai last December with Nepal’s delegation to advocate for the establishment of a ‘loss and damage’ fund at the UN. Last year’s August flood had damaged the hotel and restaurant, sending a car through a wall.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240518030544_e746e002560e33596c8c9beea4fe1210d0ff8f0aa697fd82e55426b049aecc46.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20240518030544_e746e002560e33596c8c9beea4fe1210d0ff8f0aa697fd82e55426b049aecc46" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Kagbeni flood loss and damage"> <figcaption>Laxmi Gurung's hotel and restaurant was damaged in the Kagbeni flood. She says the 'loss and damage' fund cannot pay for everything that is lost.</figcaption> </figure>  Laxmi described that night in harrowing detail: the intensity of the rain, unlike anything Kagbeni had experienced in the past (the old town’s mud houses, which have survived centuries in the region’s arid climate, are now dissolving under the recent downpours), the warning calls from villages upriver, which saved lives (Kagbeni had no fatalities), the unforgettable sound of heavy debris crashing into buildings in the darkness and of buildings collapsing, the agonising wait to see the damage in first daylight.&nbsp; “It was the longest night,” Laxmi said. But it was the flood’s aftermath that was the most revelatory. “The next day we see everywhere heaps of mud. And we don’t know what to do. Everybody is crying,” Laxmi said.&nbsp; Houses and belongings were buried under the debris, while some items were carried down the Kali Gandaki as far as Lete, 25 miles away. “All the people, from Lubrak, from Muktinath, every village from Upper Mustang to Lower Mustang came with something in hand to help Kagbeni, to move the debris. They came personally to help us, and they also contributed financial help. Mustang is an example that community exists.” “From the government, we still have not got any relief funds,” Laxmi said. Nepal’s Home Ministry and a variety of NGOs “came and watched—they see, they study, and [are] gone.” Pointing out that Kagbeni’s carbon emissions, like Nepal’s as a whole, are negligible, Laxmi asked, “Why are we the ones who suffer a lot? Our memories, heritage, structures, landscapes: gone. And who is to blame for this? Should we blame ourselves? We should get compensation. But who will listen to us? We are a small community, a small mountain village, in one corner of—beyond the Himalaya. Even Nepal’s government believes we are beyond the Himalaya, and we have been neglected.” When asked about her advocacy in Dubai for loss-and-damage funding, and if there are losses that cannot be compensated, she said: “The financial help can establish new houses, infrastructures, but our heritage, our ancestors’ properties, we cannot rebuild. The loss of memories, values, culture, customs cannot be repaid.” * Yungdrung Tsewang Gurung, 36, is a freelance researcher, conservationist, and photographer from Lubrak, a tiny village a few miles south of Kagbeni. Dating back to the 12th century, it has 14 households and is the last village in Mustang entirely following the pre-Buddhist Tibetan Bön religion. Working with Amburgey and other scholars, Yungdrung has researched the effects of climate and social change in Mustang. In June 2021, his family’s small ancestral home in Lubrak was destroyed by a major flood. They have since built a new house higher up the steep mountainside, and he has documented and reported <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/mustang-forced-to-adapt-to-climate-crisis">for the Nepali Times</a> on how Lubrak is shifting ground as the floods and rising riverbed overwhelm its ancestral fields and now threaten the heart of the village itself. “Knowingly or not knowingly, local people are already struggling,” Yungdrung said. “In Lubrak, my family was living with the threat of when the flood would happen and we would lose our house. In 2021, it happened overnight. And when we see the snow melting and how the rain pattern is changing, and flood is one of the outcomes, we cannot do much. In our village, most of the old traditional things are already damaged, and we do not have [many options for a] livelihood.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240518030548_4296e553e89fe3a46fdf156b47e9c0409d40a78f20eaf30df2d23222b9dcf6d2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20240518030548_4296e553e89fe3a46fdf156b47e9c0409d40a78f20eaf30df2d23222b9dcf6d2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1125" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Kagbeni flood victim"> <figcaption>Yungdrung Tsewang Gurung, of Lubrak village, at Paradise Trekkers Home in Kagbeni in January 2024.</figcaption> </figure>  The people of Lubrak are actively discussing whether, how, and where to relocate as a community—a prospect complicated by the fact that, under recent national policy, the community's ancestral land is now owned by the Nepali government. “We cannot build and claim that it belongs to us, like our parents and older generations,” Yungdrung said.&nbsp; His family was the first in Lubrak to lose its home, and the plot on which they rebuilt was allocated through the village’s traditional community decision-making process. But now their ownership, and the village’s ability to relocate on ancestral land, is uncertain.&nbsp; “We do not fit in the Nepal government’s policy,” Yungdrung said. “How can we survive here?” Kagbeni now faces the same issue. Nepal’s central government recently overruled a local decision to allocate community land to flood victims for building new homes. “As authorised land documents remain unavailable, the affected individuals and local authorities are actively pursuing procedures to acquire land from the government,” explained Rinzin Namgyal Gurung, the chairperson. * Asked what would happen if there were suddenly a significant amount of loss-and-damage funding for Mustang, if it would make a difference or if there was a mechanism through which to use the money, Yungdrung did not sound confident.&nbsp; “I don’t see a way through, directly,” he said. “The political situation is not stable. Many people at different political levels will benefit from it, and many NGOs are influenced by political parties. So for now, even if you say in 2024 there will be lots of grants for loss and damage, I don’t think it will reach the ground level. It won’t reach the people who actually suffer.” There’s a simplistic narrative about loss-and-damage funding, which took a long-overdue stride forward at COP28. It suggests that if wealthy Global North nations create a pot of money to compensate the most vulnerable developing countries, among which Nepal ranks in the global top 10, that it will address the problem.&nbsp; It is as if, where the culpable rich nations once said, “They’ll adapt,” the thinking now goes, “We’ll compensate them.” In other words: We’ll help pay for your losses (“Here, will this pocket change do?”) while we keep burning the world, melting your glaciers, and wrecking your monsoon.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240518030544_90c475a58da9022888aa9eb21e8a34f2b0b4fb62dce33d65fb80564b004c288f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20240518030544_90c475a58da9022888aa9eb21e8a34f2b0b4fb62dce33d65fb80564b004c288f" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Kagbeni flood"> <figcaption>Buildings damaged by the August 2023 flood in Kagbeni, as seen in January 2024.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240518030548_0e74d4aa22d583f175cd44f26320733b40c246d5da073941becf1afa140064f2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20240518030548_0e74d4aa22d583f175cd44f26320733b40c246d5da073941becf1afa140064f2" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Kagbeni flood"> <figcaption>Damage and debris from the August 2023 flood in Kagbeni, as seen in January 2024.</figcaption> </figure>  Full loss-and-damage funding for poor countries is a moral and geopolitical imperative. Debt cancellation for developing nations might be a start. But it’s a naïve ‘first world’ fantasy to think that a government like Nepal’s has the capacity to implement climate relief and adaptation measures at scale, however much money is spent, without deep political and structural reforms (as any number of Nepali experts will tell you). What the United States, Europe, and the world’s other advanced economies truly owe the Global South goes well beyond compensation—especially when money itself cannot compensate for what is lost. We owe them nothing less than to break the grip of fossil fuels on our economic and political systems and end the use of coal, oil, and gas <a href="https://www.ecoequity.org/2024/02/after-dubai/">as fast—and as equitably</a>—as possible. That will require a political mobilisation like nothing we’ve yet seen, one that is still, at this late date, nowhere in sight. What, then, do you say to a person like Laxmi Gurung as she looks you in the eye? I had no adequate words. But maybe we should be looking to her for answers. In Kathmandu, I asked Laxmi if she thinks her community will ever abandon Kagbeni or whether her people will stay and fight, come what may. “The day we got the flood,” she told me, emotion in her voice, “we became strong. We said, ‘We should fight.’ We all are traumatised, we feel scared to stay in Kagbeni, but we thought, ‘No, this is our place, this is our home. No matter what, we should fight.’ So we all get together, and then the community all came. Then we began to say, ‘Oh, if we stand, everybody is with us. Why not stand?’” <a href="https://wenstephenson.com/">Wen Stephenson</a> is a veteran journalist, essayist, and climate-justice activist. A frequent contributor to <a href="https://www.thenation.com/authors/wen-stephenson/">The Nation</a> and <a href="https://thebaffler.com/authors/wen-stephenson">The Baffler</a>, he is the author of <a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/250727/what-were-fighting-for-now-is-each-other-by-wen-stephenson/">What We’re Fighting for Now Is Each Other: Dispatches From the Front Lines of Climate Justice</a> (2015). His forthcoming book, Learning to Live in the Dark: Essays in a Time of Catastrophe, will be published next year.

What is lost cannot be repaid

The hallmark of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/mustang-forced-to-adapt-to-climate-crisis">climate breakdown in the Himalaya</a> is that it does not rain when and where it is supposed to, but pours at the wrong time in areas it ought not to. The trans-Himalayan Mustang region has had successive snowless winters but has experienced heavy monsoon downpours most characteristic of the southern foothills. But local and national governments seem ill-prepared to deal with this anomaly. The lack of readiness was seen in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/smoke-screen">unprecedented wildfires in March-April</a>, which was partly due to a long winter drought. Soon, the monsoon will be upon us and the government appears to be doing little more than quantifying the death and destruction from floods and landslides. On 13 August 2023, Namyak Gurung of Kagbeni in Mustang saw a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/remembering-the-seti-disaster">flash flood </a>that he had never seen in his 50-year life. Cloudbursts the day before set off landslides that dammed the Kag Khola, a tributary of the Kali Gandaki. &nbsp; The lake burst, destroying 30 of the 125 houses in the village. A police station, monasteries, bridges, a hospital, and a school were damaged. No one was killed because there were warning calls from people upstream. Nearly a year later, Kagbeni still looks like a war zone and the people dread the coming rainy season.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024052105050_0d7573f0ee787c01a56237486f98b6f2230ca3d3b6a9c778ce16841ba753e94c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2024052105050_0d7573f0ee787c01a56237486f98b6f2230ca3d3b6a9c778ce16841ba753e94c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1536" height="2048" loading="lazy" alt="Kagbeni flood"> </figure>  “I couldn’t leave the place of my ancestors," says Namyak who has relocated to his brother’s place after his two-storied building was destroyed. “I’m now building my new house a long way above the river. But I keep getting nightmares of another flood.”&nbsp; Tenzing Gurung, 36, was rescued from the second floor of her lodge in Kagbeni. Grey sand and boulders still cover the yard and the river now runs through what used to be the gate to her lodge. “I had never thought something like this could happen here,” says Tenzing. “We are scared, but where can we go?” The flood also damaged the local Janashanti Secondary School where two of Tenzing’s sons study. The school needs immediate relocation, but nothing has been done. “I just pray that the next flood doesn’t happen when my sons are in school,” adds Tenzing. Mustang and Manag districts are supposed to be in the Himalayan rainshadow, but <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/himalayan-floods-a-sign-of-worse-to-come">precipitation patterns are changing</a>. Light monsoon rains have turned into destructive torrents followed by long periods of drought. In June 2021, Manang got all of its average annual rainfall of 300mm in just one week. A wall of water, mud, boulders and logs rushed down the Marsyangdi River, washing away the highway, bridges, settlements and other infrastructure in Taal and Chame villages. “We have seen that the trans-Himalayan regions are now getting more rain than before, the whole rainfall pattern has changed,” says meteorologist Rajendra Sharma of the National Disaster Risk Reduction and Management Authority (NDRRMA). He adds: “In the past, when it rained in Mustang, it happened gently over a period of time but now, we get everything in a day or two. Such heavy downpours increase the risk of floods and landslides.”&nbsp; In the last 10 years, a total of 1,500 floods, 2,500 landslides, and 1,549 high rainfall events occurred across the country and killed 2,141 people, second only to the 2015 Nepal earthquake. Yet the state appears ill-prepared to prevent the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/lost-and-damaged">loss of life and damage</a> — even though not all the destruction can be blamed solely on climate breakdown.&nbsp; “From the Manang and Melamchi floods in 2021 to last year’s Mustang, all of these are weather-related disasters, and the rate of these incidents has increased due to climate change,” says climate expert Dharma Upreti. Although climatologists do not directly blame individual disasters on climate change, they say there is a correlation between rising global temperatures, higher sea surface temperatures contributing to more water vapour in the atmosphere.&nbsp; The Himalaya is also heating faster than the global average due to a phenomenon called ‘Elevation Dependent Warming’. Melting mountains also pose the additional risk of glacial lake outbursts and avalanches.&nbsp; The South Asian Climate Outlook Forum (SASCOF) has projected above-normal rainfall for Nepal this monsoon. And with less than a month before the onset of the rains, Nepal is not prepared. And here in Kagbeni, people have still not recovered from last year’s disaster. The NDRRMA’s primary focus is post-disaster humanitarian aid and relief such as stockpiling food, medicines, tents, electricity supply and connectivity — <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/disastrous-preparedness">not so much on preparedness</a>. “We do not have sufficient resources to manage damage caused by disasters year after year, the local government should step up,” says NDRRMA chief Anil Pokhrel. The lack of preparedness and coordination between line agencies means slow response to floods. Local governments are first responders, but do not have the financial support or technical know-how to deal with disasters on their own. Says district administrator Hom Bahadur Thapa Magar in Kagbeni: “Another monsoon is coming, and given what happened last year, we urgently need to build embankments but we do not have the resources or manpower to do so.”

Soon, monsoon

While much of the discourse about &nbsp;<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/winds-of-change-sweep-mustang">Mustang district concern</a>s its people leaving for better opportunities overseas, what is less well known is that Nepalis from other parts of the country are moving in. Mustang's population is the second smallest among 77 districts, and it is falling due to out-migration. The resident population in the 2021 census was 14,452, with 5,882 people from other parts of Nepal. &nbsp;&nbsp; One of them is Nima Lama, 24. He was born and raised in Kathmandu, and migrated to Mustang to work in the service industry three years ago. He had been searching for a job in Kathmandu for months, but finally found an opening at a hotel in Mustang through a placement agency.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023062309060_4e4405cf10e6f127f90a1cd40feda0b9d8d69efd13093a2563530ca31489ba9f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2023062309060_4e4405cf10e6f127f90a1cd40feda0b9d8d69efd13093a2563530ca31489ba9f" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="509" loading="lazy" alt="Upper Mustang"> <figcaption>Lo Manthang is located amidst rolling arid hills of the trans-Himalayan Plateau, Tilicho Peak and Nilgiri in the far distance on the southern horizon.</figcaption> </figure>  “I was skeptical at first, but the job felt appealing and unique, so I decided to come here,” says Lama, pointing that the region with its unique topography and weather offers good opportunities. &nbsp;&nbsp; Mustang is the part of Nepal that juts out into China and is geologically and culturally a part of the Tibetan Plateau. In the past five months, about 60,000 foreign tourists visited Mustang mainly for trekking and pilgrimage to Muktinath. There are many thousands more Nepali visitors.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230623100648_dc336f11c6099d1642aeae6e6dc0027d86aabb5328367c8663b30f04187491a8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20230623100648_dc336f11c6099d1642aeae6e6dc0027d86aabb5328367c8663b30f04187491a8" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="Mustang 2"> <figcaption>Many of the shops in Lo Manthang are shuttered because locals moved out, and tourism collapsed for two years due to Covid.</figcaption> </figure>  Some 2,000 foreign tourists also travelled to the restricted region of Upper Mustang by buying a special permit that costs $500 per person for 15 days. Mustang has a range of hotels that cater to high-end and budget tourists, and everything in between. Most homeowners have migrated, and have rented their lodges and hotels to new migrants from other parts of Nepal. Bikram BK, 27, who is from Baglung has been a horse guide for Muktinath pilgrims for the last six years. Local Mustang residents own the horses, but employ people from &nbsp;outside to tend to their horses.&nbsp; “It was difficult finding a job in Baglung, and this was a good offer,” BK says. “The work is easy and I like taking care of horses.”&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230623100648_7a69c06dc99e4793716ada2308efa73157b7276fdd165e0dcbad77de93b97ce9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20230623100648_7a69c06dc99e4793716ada2308efa73157b7276fdd165e0dcbad77de93b97ce9" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="Mustang 3"> </figure>  At Paradise Trekker’s Home in Kagbeni another worker from Kathmandu says he likes working here because it “is a unique experience”. His colleague is from Udaypur and does everything from cooking to ploughing the apple fields with a tractor. “Locals own the majority of land and hotels but they do not work here,” explains Karma Namguyal Gurung, a 28-year-old local who has been running his family-owned hotel for the past four years, and is one of few who have remained behind. (See profile below)&nbsp; "Few Mustang people remain. Most of my friends are overseas, and lease out their hotels to people from other districts,” he adds.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230623090612_7229ee7ca69667507696c943ff521daf570fd1312b1467a97d7f2e6df3c228e9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20230623090612_7229ee7ca69667507696c943ff521daf570fd1312b1467a97d7f2e6df3c228e9" data-rendition-name="original" width="500" height="750" loading="lazy" alt="Mustang 4"> </figure>  Mustang's Crown Prince Jigme Bista is also worried about the brain drain from his kingdom, and says this is the reason he opened his up-market Royal Mustang Resort in Lo Manthang.&nbsp; "Since our young are rapidly leaving Mustang, I wanted to create opportunities here,” explains Bista, who aims to retain them by giving them jobs, equipping them with skills in hotel management, and training them to be baristas and chefs. &nbsp; <h2>Return of a native</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023062309068_603f8d4d5d089496a1e1bbaf40fff565b22dda8c8cce402e45685e86b31f1ad4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2023062309068_603f8d4d5d089496a1e1bbaf40fff565b22dda8c8cce402e45685e86b31f1ad4" data-rendition-name="original" width="5184" height="3456" loading="lazy" alt="Karma Namguyal Gurung"> <figcaption>PHOTO: SHRIJAN PANDEY</figcaption> </figure>  Karma Namguyal Gurung exemplifies the resilient spirit of a young Mustang entrepreneur committed to preserving his family’s legacy and contributing to the development of tourism in his home district.&nbsp; But Gurung is unique because unlike most local youth, he has not migrated overseas. He moved to Kathmandu as a boy to go to school at a time when he had to walk for a week to get to Pokhara. After getting a hotel management degree, he interned in Dubai for eight months and in Malaysia for three months. Gurung got job offers to stay abroad, but decided to return not just to Nepal, but to go back to Mustang. &nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/mixed-blessings-in-mustang">Mixed blessings in Mustang</a>, Mukesh Pokhrel “I felt homesick during that whole time abroad,” recalls Gurung, who missed the cool mountain breeze of Mustang while sweating in the tropical heat of Malaysia and the Gulf. &nbsp; Gurung’s family has been running the Four Seasons Hotel in Muktinath Valley for the past 25 years. But they moved to Kathmandu, and it was getting difficult to run the hotel remotely. &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230623100648_c29d8feb51716a08ae31ef051a5fa5c1ab13fb54034bed9bd9809b9625d84bea.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20230623100648_c29d8feb51716a08ae31ef051a5fa5c1ab13fb54034bed9bd9809b9625d84bea" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="Mustang 4"> </figure>  So, he came back four years ago and now manages the family hotel, providing food and lodging especially for pilgrims to Muktinath.&nbsp; “The natives don't run things here, they have mostly left,” Gurung says, admitting that he has also thought of going to a bigger place to earn more. What encourages him to stay is feedback from visitors about his hospitality. “It is really encouraging when guests acknowledge our effort,” he says. ",Mustang is no longer a village, as it was during my childhood. It is becoming cosmopolitan. &nbsp;This place will never be the same again.”&nbsp; The pace of change is evident even in Lo Manthang, where Mustang's Crown Prince Jigme Bista runs the high-end Royal Mustang Resort which fuses traditional and modern architecture. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; “We’ve seen tourists leave on the very first day of a seven-day program due to a lack of facilities,” Bista says. “Our goal is to give tourists who come here for our culture, traditions, and location a fascinating experience.” The hotel sees 4,000 international and local visitors every year, and Bista says the hotel can accommodate many more if the restricted area designation for Mustang is lifted.&nbsp; Read Also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/mustang-forced-to-adapt-to-climate-crisis">Mustang forced to adapt to climate c</a><a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/mustang-forced-to-adapt-to-climate-crisis">risis</a>, Ronan Wallace and Yungdrung Tsewang Gurung <h2>Better connected</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023062309068_dfe1037005a750b92601a23297e6b7fe900a88858adcc892a2d4baf4ef3f5873.png" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="2023062309068_dfe1037005a750b92601a23297e6b7fe900a88858adcc892a2d4baf4ef3f5873" data-rendition-name="original" width="1683" height="591" loading="lazy" alt="Mustang map"> </figure>  Once Nepal’s most isolated region, new road connectivity has made Mustang much more accessible. What used to be a 11-day trek from Pokhara is <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/11-day-trek-is-now-a-day-s-drive-in-nepal">now an eight hour jeep ride</a>, and this may come down to five hours once the highway along the Kali Gandaki is upgraded. The river slices through the mountains between Annapurna and Dhaulagiri and is regarded as the deepest gorge in the world. Besides the unstable geology, it also gets heavy rainfall. &nbsp;&nbsp; “This is very difficult terrain to build and maintain roads,” explains Lokendra Adhikari of the Annapurna Conservation Area project. “The road from Ghasa to Lo Manthang is smooth and intact because there is less rain, and the terrain is gentler.” Despite the rough road, Mustang is changing rapidly, and accelerating out-migration of locals. But it has also brought people from Pokhara and Kathmandu to set up businesses here.&nbsp; There is a building spree, and fancy new hotels are coming up to cater to an expected tourism boom. The road has made it easier for children from Upper Mustang now to join boarding schools in Pokhara or Kathmandu.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230623090624_f2997aa8458b1f3e5cdc7900c87ea7d474337b7a90a6bc5c0dfe0cf6d3f23251.jpg" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20230623090624_f2997aa8458b1f3e5cdc7900c87ea7d474337b7a90a6bc5c0dfe0cf6d3f23251" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="Mustang"> </figure>  Hoteliers in Jomsom say there would have been more tourists if the road condition was better and flights safer and more regular. Two crashes of flights from Pokhara in 2016 and 2022 deterred many trekkers and pilgrims. “The Tara Air crashes led to a sharp drop in foreign tourists, so if the road were better we would have seen a rebound,” says Tripple P Gurung, owner of Redhouse in Kagbeni. He adds that most of his guests prefer to brave the road.&nbsp; The monsoon is the lean tourist season in most of Nepal, but it is peak period here in trans-Himalayan districts like Mustang and Dolpo because the weather is milder and drier during June-September. Mustang is becoming especially popular with Nepali tourists who come here to explore the scenic trails on mountain bikes or motorcycles. Now that there is a motorable road right up to the Chinese border at Korala, many hoteliers say it does not make sense to keep Mustang restricted. The hefty fees and the bureaucratic hassles in Kathmandu to get permits are keeping many potential tourists away.&nbsp; “The policy about the restricted area and fees was made 30 years ago taking into account Mustang’s fragile ecology and culture to keep visitor numbers low, but that is not an issue anymore with better connectivity,” says Gurung.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230623090624_edcc2a5a02ca63bb8681fd2eaa404a924cf8fdfeb3d8fb78878ac59151cac6d8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_13" data-image-id="20230623090624_edcc2a5a02ca63bb8681fd2eaa404a924cf8fdfeb3d8fb78878ac59151cac6d8" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Mustang"> </figure>  Getting there Now an eight-hour drive from Kathmandu to Pokhara because of highway widening and traffic. Overland: Pokhara to Jomsom 6 hours Jomsom to Lo Manthang &nbsp;6 hours Flight: Kathmandu-Pokhara (overnight)-Jomsom Upper Mustang beyond Kagbeni is still restricted, and foreign tourists have to pay $500 per person for the first 10 days and an additional $50 each day of their visit to the region. Of the nearly 60,000 foreign tourists so far in Mustang, only 2,000 or so continued to Upper Mustang. The fee was reduced in 2005 when Mustang became more accessible, and the restriction on the number of visitors has also been lifted.&nbsp;

Comings and goings in Mustang

There were two Bhutans on display during Narendra Modi’s visit this month. The first: a trusted partner, modernising rapidly with Indian support, inaugurating hydroelectric projects, and signing healthcare deals. The second: a nation that <a href="https://www.fmreview.org/gazmere-bishwo/#:~:text=In%201990%2D91%2C%20about%20a,are%20therefore%20not%20Bhutanese%20citizens.">ethnically cleansed 17% of its population </a>and has never been held accountable.
Modi chose to see only the <a href="https://kuenselonline.com/news/pm-modi-concludes-bhutan-visit-with-prayers-for-peace-and-prosperity">first </a>during his <a href="https://economictimes.indiatimes.com/news/india/india-announces-rs-4000-cr-concessional-credit-line-to-fund-energy-projects-in-bhutan/articleshow/125253915.cms?utm_source=contentofinterest&amp;utm_medium=text&amp;utm_campaign=cppst">11-12 November visit</a>, granting $450 million in credit, offering birthday tributes to Fourth King Jigme Singye Wangchuk, and inaugurating another hydropower project.
New Delhi has opted for strategic silence on Bhutan’s systematic persecution of the Lhotshampas in the 1990s. The displaced remain scattered across the world and in refugee camps in Nepal, their property seized, their citizenship revoked.&nbsp;
Now, on that same contested land Bhutan is building the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/small-bhutan-dreams-big">Gelephu Mindful City (GMC)</a>, a megaproject intended to <a href="https://kuenselonline.com/news/pm-modi-announces-inr-40-billion-credit-line-new-rail-links-and-land-for-bhutanese-temple-in-varanasi">connect directly to Indian infrastructure</a>. The victims are gone, and democratic India’s values remain conspicuously absent.&nbsp;
With no Lhotshampas left to challenge the official narrative and India unwilling to raise it, Bhutan continues to suppress dissent with impunity.&nbsp;
Earlier this year, social media influencer Raghu Pati Subedi was arrested on the Assam side of Gelephu after returning from a visit to relatives in India. His family members reportedly came under intense pressure, including threats of arrest, accusing them of hiding his whereabouts. After his arrest, he was transported to Thimphu and imprisoned.
This was not an isolated incident. It is part of systemic repression that first gained international attention in the 1990s, when over 100,000 Nepali-speaking Lhotshampa were systematically stripped of their citizenship and forcibly exiled. This mass expulsion, which human rights organisations have characterised as ethnic cleansing, created a decades-long refugee crisis that continues to define the regional political and human rights landscape.&nbsp;
EXODUS
The Lhotshampa crisis of the 1990s was not a spontaneous event but the culmination of years of state-led discrimination. Through a series of legislative acts, notably the 1985 Citizenship Act and the 1989 Driglam Namzha, the ‘One Nation, One People’ policy, the Bhutanese state systematically dismantled the rights of its Nepali-speaking citizens.&nbsp;
The use of the Nepali language was suppressed, the traditional dress of the ruling ethnic group was mandated, and citizenship was revoked en masse, rendering a significant portion of the population stateless in their own homeland.
The new manuscript I am editing has harrowing accounts by the authors of those atrocities. The parallels with what happened to Subedi recently are striking and troubling, showing that even after 35 years the regime has not changed its spots. The methods may have evolved, but the repression against dissidents remains disturbingly consistent.
This refugee exodus was an immense and unasked-for burden on Nepal. Despite being a country grappling with its own political instability and limited resources, Nepal accommodated them on humanitarian grounds. Nepal has consistently advocated for a durable solution centered on the refugees’ right to safe, voluntary, and dignified repatriation.
For years, it engaged in bilateral talks with Bhutan, culminating in a joint verification process. However, these efforts ultimately foundered on what Nepal described as ‘continued rigidity and non-implementation of the agreed decisions by the Bhutanese side’.
Nepal fulfilled its moral and humanitarian duty, but the international community largely failed to hold Bhutan accountable. Bhutan’s rulers deflected global attention with the masterful narrative of Gross National Happiness (GNH), while the grim reality in the refugee camps persisted.&nbsp;
Ultimately, with repatriation proving impossible, Nepal acquiesced to a third-country resettlement program led by a group of eight countries, including the United States, Canada, and Australia. From 2007 to 2016, more than 113,500 Bhutanese refugees were resettled in <a href="https://www.unhcr.org/media/nepal-factsheet">one of the largest group resettlement programmes globally</a>, though 6,365 remain in refugee camps in eastern Nepal.
While this solution provided a lifeline for thousands, it was a tragic capitulation to Bhutan’s ethnic homogenisation project. The refugees’ right to return to their homeland has been denied. It is a cautionary tale about the limits of international diplomacy in the face of state intransigence.
Bhutan’s global brand is one of its most successful exports. The <a href="https://www.gnhcentrebhutan.org/">Gross National Happiness </a>doctrine, which promotes holistic well-being over just economic growth, has captivated the Western imagination and policymakers. It offers a vision of a mindful, environmentally conscious, and peaceful Himalayan kingdom. This carefully cultivated image has historically aimed to shield Bhutan from the level of scrutiny applied to other nations with similar human rights records.
The GNH facade, however, cracks under the weight of documented evidence. The same kingdom that champions ‘happiness’ has, for decades, maintained a justice system that human rights groups allege relies on torture, coerced confessions, and draconian laws to silence opposition.
The 1992 National Security Act, with its vague definitions of ‘treasonable acts’ against the Tsa-Wa-Sum (King, Country, and People), has been a primary tool for suppressing political dissent, particularly from the Lhotshampa.
Overlooked by the international community and ignored by global powers including India, in responding robustly to the ethnic cleansing of the 1990s sent a clear message to Thimphu: such actions could be undertaken with impunity. The monarchy emerged unscathed, its reputation burnished rather than tarnished.&nbsp;
This historical impunity now echoes in the case of Raghu Pati Subedi and the <a href="https://www.cijnepal.org/new-list-of-political-prisoners-expected-to-set-off-discussion-on-bhutans-human-rights-record">continued imprisonment of dozens of political prisoners</a> of conscience. The global community’s reluctance to challenge the GNH narrative has, in effect, become a form of complicity.
The arrest and sentencing of a social media influencer demonstrates how old tactics have been adapted for the digital age. Subedi, 40, was a new kind of threat to the state-controlled narrative and he had to be made an example of.&nbsp;
As the founder and administrator of the popular Facebook page ‘The Don of Asia’, he bypassed traditional, state-influenced media to speak directly to about 78,000 followers. His content, informational and satirical videos on rural poverty, corruption, and the GMC project, was the kind of social media activism that was deemed intolerable.
Subedi was arrested in early 2025 and sentenced to 24 years in prison. The charges allegedly stemmed from Subedi’s social media criticism of the GMC, a flagship project of Nepal-born Bhutanese fifth King Jigme Khesar Namgyel Wangchuck.&nbsp;
For <a href="https://thenewamericansmag.com/2024/11/18/the-kings-gelephu-mindfulness-city/#:~:text=Ganga%20Lamitare%2C%20who%20owns%20four,ancestors%20in%20building%20the%20nation.">Bhutanese refugees like Gangaram Lamitare</a>, the GMC represents a bitter irony, a development rising on their confiscated ancestral lands.&nbsp;
Gangaram, who owns four acres where the GMC’s international airport is now under construction, says: “Many people from villages fled at night in 1990, leaving everything behind to escape oppression. Now, the Bhutanese king and ministers are spreading falsehoods worldwide, calling this land vacant, which actually belongs to those forced to leave the country.”&nbsp;
There are signs that international support that has benefited Bhutan may be waning. The United Nations has become increasingly vocal and last year the <a href="https://www.ohchr.org/sites/default/files/documents/issues/detention-wg/opinions/session101/a-hrc-wgad-60-2024-bhutan-advance-edited-ve.pdf">UN Working Group on Arbitrary Detention</a> said the detention of several Bhutanese political prisoners was arbitrary and illegal under international law.&nbsp;
In April 2025 from a group of six UN human rights experts raised grave concerns about the use of torture, denial of fair trials, and the ‘severe chilling effect’ of Bhutan’s legal framework on civic space. These developments owe much to the consistent advocacy of the Hague-based Global Campaign for the Release of Political Prisoners in Bhutan (GCRPPB) since its formation.
However, they also reflect broader shifts in international human rights scrutiny. This places Bhutan’s key international partners, particularly the European Union, in a critical position. Bhutan enjoys lucrative benefits under the EU’s ‘Everything but Arms’ trade scheme, which grants developing countries tariff-free access to the EU market contingent on respect for human rights.&nbsp;
The EU is also a significant provider of development aid to Bhutan which provides it with substantial leverage. In April 2025, members of the <a href="https://bsky.app/profile/saskiabricmont.bsky.social/post/3lmrn5mkmrs2q">European Parliament formally called on Bhutan</a> to release all political prisoners. This action signals a growing recognition that trade and partnership cannot be divorced from human rights obligations.&nbsp;
“Bhutan’s international partners and investors, including the EU, should make it clear that they expect Bhutan to comply with its human rights obligations and release them without further delay,” says Meenakshi Ganguly, of Human Rights Watch.&nbsp;
Bhutan stands at a crossroads. Its desire for deeper global economic integration is colliding with its unresolved history of human rights abuses. The international community now has a choice: either continue being charmed by the myth of a happy shangri-la or insist that the kingdom adheres to democratic values it professes to the world.&nbsp;
Nepal’s recent Gen-Z uprising offers a lesson to Bhutan. In September, when authorities attempted to ban 26 social media, Nepali youth took to the streets and, within hours, toppled the entire pro-establishment political apparatus. Their message was clear: in an age of digital connectivity and mass mobilisation, authoritarian tactics such as detaining social media influencers are both unjust and ultimately unsustainable.
This incident echoes the prophetic warnings of Devi Bhakta Lamitare, Bhutan’s first-generation democratic leader, who died in exile in India in 2022. In his seminal 1970 book
Dankindo Bhutan, Lamitare chronicled the systematic suppression of people’s rights and envisioned a path toward liberation.
Before his death, I worked with him to update and edit this work, which the Bhutan Media Society published posthumously in 2023. In a December 2020 interview I conducted for the book on the Ganga riverbank in Haridwar, Lamitare laid out a stark three-front offensive: political mobilisation from within India to awaken resistance inside Bhutan itself, relentless pressure on New Delhi to champion democracy, and a global ‘pamphlet war’ waged by resettled Bhutanese in the West.&nbsp;
Only through such sustained action, he argues, can Bhutanese citizens win the right to choose their own rulers, a principle India, the world’s largest democracy, should be championing, not abandoning.
Binod Dhungel is the Nepal correspondent for Reporters Without Borders.
<a href="http://linkedin.com/in/dhungelbinod" target="_blank">linkedin.com/in/dhungelbinod</a>, @BinodDhungel

Bhutan imprisons social media influencer

The September protests and worry about what is in store for Nepal in 2026 have added more uncertainty to a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-needs-to-use-its-money-better">struggling economy</a>. Real estate transactions are stagnant, industries are operating below capacity because of declining domestic demand, the construction sector is slack, and investors are in wait-and-watch mode. In contrast, total bank deposits increased by Rs124 billion in the month before mid-October to Rs7.4 trillion. Official remittance inflows hit a record $13 billion in the past year. Nepal’s banks are flush with cash, with nowhere to put it. &nbsp; “The economy has flatlined. Non-performing assets are up, and real estate is at a standstill,” said Ashoke SJB Rana, CEO of Himalayan Bank.“There is excess liquidity in the market, with not many places to invest.” The main reason seems to be that both <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/relocate-reallocate-recover">domestic and foreign investors were spooked</a> by the targeted violence of 9 September, and are so worried about the runup to elections in March that they are holding on to their wallets. Not just businesses, the political uncertainty is keeping individuals &nbsp;from making big financial decisions.&nbsp; Sujeev Shakya, author of the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/retrofitting-nepal-for-future-shocks">newly-released book Nepal 2043</a>, notes that the current doldrum is due to Nepalis playing it safe with their money. &nbsp; “People are holding on to their assets, and keeping their cash,” he says. “They are not investing in real estate, and avoiding buying gold because it is so volatile.”&nbsp; One sector in which banks have a lot of exposure is hydroelectricity, but even here recent floods have shown that this investment is <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/global-warning-bell-in-belem">increasingly at risk from climate breakdown</a>.&nbsp; Nabil Bank, with its focus on sustainable banking, for instance, has financed 56 hydropower projects with an installed capacity of 3,000MW.&nbsp; Says Nabil CEO Manoj Kumar Gyawali: “We cannot ignore unpredictable rainfall, increased glacier melt, more frequent glacier lake outburst floods, and landslides. These risks mean that while hydropower is essential, Nepal must diversify its energy mix." &nbsp;&nbsp; An open secret in the banking sector is that much of the liquidity is supected laundered money. Banks also have close ownership links with big businesses, and this means that even with a slow economy, banks lend to themselves or to each other to keep transaction volumes up.&nbsp; This is one reason for a high default rate. In the first three months of this fiscal year, 4.86% of bank loans were non-performing, meaning one out of about every 20 borrowers had defaulted. A year ago, this figure was 4.04%. Banks are therefore reluctant to lend, dampening the overall investment climate. &nbsp; Ironically, the high default rate is keeping mainstream newspapers in Nepal afloat at a time when the media business is also in crisis. Even as they suffer from a massive drop in advertising revenue, most daily newspapers often add pages to fit notices to borrowers about repayment, or announcements of bank auctions of collateral property. “While banks may be making a much smaller percentage of income compared to a few decades ago, they are still making a profit,” notes Shakya. “And so they are actually quite happy to be in this low-risk situation. Banks are conservative organisations after all.”&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251128041136_b33dd18d7ce221e273bd18d8a5c4ba4c9196f762b95b87fd24c60df6c2426065.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20251128041136_b33dd18d7ce221e273bd18d8a5c4ba4c9196f762b95b87fd24c60df6c2426065" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1022" loading="lazy" alt="Banks"> <figcaption>Illustration: BHANU BHATTARAI / NEPALI TIMES ARCHIVE</figcaption> </figure>  Among the most striking videos of the September protests that was shared globally by tens of millions of people was the Hilton and Hyatt hotels and the Ncell building burning. That recognisable international brands were targeted did not just cause huge losses to owners, but also damaged Nepal’s overall investment climate. Looting Bhat-Bhateni and homes of businessmen also sent a negative message, spurring capital flight.&nbsp; “That was very bad optics for potential investors, you simply worry about the security of your investment when you see things like that,” says Himalayan Bank CEO Ashoke SJB Rana.&nbsp; Nepal will graduate to Middle Income Country status next year, and donors are set to move from aid to private investment. While this could reduce misuse of money, it could dry up grants and soft loans to the health and education sectors.&nbsp; But the harm may go deeper than just the aftermath of the September events. The recent<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/double-trouble-with-taxes"> double taxation issue</a> involving the Dolma Impact Fund, and an earlier controversy over Ncell’s capital gains tax have also put Nepal’s business climate in negative spotlight internationally.&nbsp; The banking sector is firmly on the side of investors. Says Ashoke Rana at Himalayan Bank: “This is a tax regime, it is absurd to order the payment of these taxes retrospectively. When investors see that the rules of the game can change arbitrarily, they won’t really want to put their money here. ” &nbsp; One of the positive changes in the ways Nepalis are using money is digital transactions through QR codes and mobile banking. With smartphones making up 70% of all mobile phones, QR transactions are easy and have become a part of daily life. ONLINE BANKING&nbsp; Most businesses and ride shares have this feature on board, and people do not need to carry a lot of cash or multiple bank cards. But as digital payments become the norm, the days of free transactions may be coming to an end.&nbsp; “Right now these transactions are free for the most part. This is a subsidy by the banks, because of course, it does cost something to make sure the payments go through,” says Rana at Himalayan Bank. “However, as income decreases, banks may have to look for ways to make money, so they may charge small percentages on each QR transaction.”&nbsp; Rapid digitisation has changed not only how customers use money, but also how banks think about their offices. Himalayan Bank’s new Thamel branch, for example, has cancelled plans to redesign the office for 20 tellers.&nbsp; “We realised that people were able to do so much of what they wanted digitally that we plan to have only four tellers,” says Rana.&nbsp; But cutting down on facilities and staff has not always made for a better customer experience at some bank branches.&nbsp; Economist Sujeev Shakya conducts ghost customer experience checks for banks which involves decoys entering banks to evaluate what it is like for somebody to set up a bank account.&nbsp; The stealth missions found that standards of service have regressed, with banks having a working environment reminiscent of government offices.&nbsp; Shakya points out that the general experience of going to the bank should be much better. “Sometimes it’s a knowledge issue -- banks may try to ask for non-disclosure contracts even when they don’t know why they want them,” he says.&nbsp; Despite digitisation, many banks still require paper-based forms and documents. Bankers and customers alike note that it feels archaic, almost absurd, to have to carry multiple copies of documents, sometimes only in Nepali lokta paper, across several family members and fill out what seems to be the same form over and over even though digital files exist. That could soon be changing as well. As more and more Nepalis adopt the National ID, banks have adopted pilot programs that use it to create bank accounts, replacing the myriad documents that customers had to previously present to officials, making all banking transactions more efficient and less of a hassle for the customer.&nbsp; DIGITAL SECURITY As Nepalis move their cash online, digital infrastructure needs to become more secure as well.&nbsp; Bankers spend quite a lot to make sure necessary digital security infrastructure is in place, but some banks could be using pirated software which are not trustworthy.&nbsp; There has to be better regulatory oversight to prevent phishing and fraud as online payments and digital banking spread across Nepal.&nbsp; Banks must also be innovative and ambitious. Says Shakya: “Nowhere else in South Asia are bank loans such a high ratio of the nation’s GDP. &nbsp;This actually points to a well-developed financial system and we have to take advantage of it."&nbsp; Shakya also notes that many bank executives in foreign countries, like Myanmar are actually Nepali, and that banks from Nepal could use their staff and know-how to partner with or acquire banks overseas.&nbsp; While these innovations are all welcome, it is unclear how Nepal's banking sector can jumpstart economic activity in the country. Nepal’s political future looks uncertain and stability is not a guarantee.&nbsp; In the face of continuing progress in hydro electricity and the IT sector seems to be the way forward to stimulate the economy.&nbsp; The GenZ movement was a wakeup call also to financial institutions and the need for greater transparency. Nabil Bank CEO Manoj Kumar Gyawali says the September protests sent a clear message that young Nepalis want an end to corruption, good governance, and real opportunities at home: "The banking sector has a &nbsp;responsibility to direct more lending toward the real economy, sectors that create jobs, build productivity, and strengthen long-term growth," he says.&nbsp; Despite a subdued investment climate, Gyawali is optimistic. "I do see early signs of improvement. Lower interest rates are beginning to restore public and business confidence. Rising remittances provide a safety net and fresh investment capacity for households," he says. "If government capital expenditure continues to improve, it will boost private sector activity."&nbsp;

Cash rich, but poor

Groundwater is like a phone battery, it needs to be regularly recharged. As springs go dry across the Himalayan foothills due to over-extraction and climate change, communities in eastern Nepal are reviving traditional knowledge to replenish aquifers. The town of Dhankuta is located along the spine of a ridge and is struggling with its water supply. Unregulated pumping is one reason, and weather extremes due to climate breakdown is the other. Since water is so important for life, necessity has become the mother of invention here. More accurately, it is the mother of re-invention — since recharging ground water is a traditional practice that has been discontinued. Communities are practicing sustainable water management again by reviving recharge ponds that had fallen into disuse as well as rainwater recycling. Some of these indigenous practices have eroded over time with outmigration and modernisation. The nearby village of Khambela is dominated by the indigenous Aathpahariya Rai community and is building on its ancestral practice of rainwater harvesting with new technology developed by the group, SmartPaani.&nbsp; Households collect rainwater during four monsoon months in tanks of up to 10,000 litres for household use and irrigating &nbsp;vegetable patches in the dry season.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251124031112_b48e18e9c85ed460210d475041dce6ba5917ab31db0a16aca2c8e0f0356c9038.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251124031112_b48e18e9c85ed460210d475041dce6ba5917ab31db0a16aca2c8e0f0356c9038" data-rendition-name="original" width="1125" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Storing rain inside mountains NT"> </figure>  “The rainwater harvesting installation here uses a rapid sand filter system that allows rainwater to move rapidly through the builtin filtration unit,” says Jyotsna Lama from Kathmandu-based SmartPaani. “The clean water is stored in tanks for future use.” The initiative is supported by the International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development (ICIMOD) and local municipalities. Local households contribute Rs50 a month for maintenance. “During the rainy season there is enough water in the wells and springs,” says a local farmer Sangita Rai. “But storing monsoon rain is enough to last the whole dry season.” Dhankuta town itself has a recharge pond at Sukepokhari, which itself means ‘dry pond’. &nbsp;The 24m diameter pond can hold up to 200,000 litres and lets it seep slowly to recharge the aquifer. One in four springs in &nbsp;Dhankuta have dried up, and Sukepokhari is helping revive them.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251124031112_0db2a186eec5194d37492066e6d0b939569254e8feca6c6dd757d28147267b2f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251124031112_0db2a186eec5194d37492066e6d0b939569254e8feca6c6dd757d28147267b2f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Storing rain inside mountains NT"> <figcaption>Sukepokhari</figcaption> </figure>  The mountains around Dhankuta act like a sponge, absorbing water in the dry season and letting it out through springs. But water started becoming scarce when the town’s expanding population started pumping up water. Plastic waste and other pollutants contaminated the remaining water. Sukepokhari’s caretaker is Krishna Kumar Thakuri, fondly known as ‘Pani Ba’ by locals who regard him as a passionate father figure. He regularly monitors rainfall and the water level in the pond to gauge how much of it is seeping into the ground to recharge the groundwater.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025112403118_b412598c4473f2bb33900bab7e2084f584e7e88c1a92f6b9c09e940e23e4ce29.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2025112403118_b412598c4473f2bb33900bab7e2084f584e7e88c1a92f6b9c09e940e23e4ce29" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1475" loading="lazy" alt="Storing rain inside mountains NT"> <figcaption>Caretaker of Sukepokhari Krishna Kumar Thakuri fondly known as Pani Ba.</figcaption> </figure>  “We harvest rain that falls in the surrounding slopes,” explains Thakuri. “But a lot of leaves, vegetation and sediment also flows into the pond and has to be desilted every year.” The pond provides drinking water to around 150-200 households and enables irrigation to 10 households in surrounding areas. Water from the pond further flows and supports springs down the mountains.&nbsp; Off the walking trail is Dale Pokhari, another recharge pond in the scenic village of Dhojedanda. After the pond was revived two springs sprang back into life again, supplying water to six households. “There used to be multiple springs and water sources, and biodiversity was diverse, but as people started to dig up wells and drag water sources to their homes via plastic pipes, the water sources started drying up,” explains Phurba Sherpa. But now there is more water flowing out of springs.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251124031112_dd71cdc337f6275b179fdab9ded358a1dcdb53c5e286d493aa2182e3f35ce32e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251124031112_dd71cdc337f6275b179fdab9ded358a1dcdb53c5e286d493aa2182e3f35ce32e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Storing rain inside mountains NT"> <figcaption>Dalepokhari</figcaption> </figure>  WATER IS LIFE Syaule-Sipting Homestay in Dhankuta has been using water sustainably after facing shortages. It has now built a bio-sand filtration system in the water tanks, so that water is safe for use by four households One of the homestays also uses a rainwater harvesting system. While the bio-sand and rainwater harvesting are used for cooking, washing and other purposes, table top filtration systems are used for drinking. Adequate safe drinking water is also helpful to revive the area’s eco-tourism potential. Safe drinking water is important so visitors are not turned off, says Anu K Lama of ICIMOD. She adds, “Health and hygiene are important for everyone. But foreigners do not have the strong immune system that locals have. Clean and adequate supply is necessary especially if we are targetting foreign guests.”