Ghana S Gurung had to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/11-day-trek-is-now-a-day-s-drive-in-nepal">walk 11 days</a> from the tiny village of Dhee in Mustang to Pokhara to give his high school exam in 1983. He wanted fervently to be a medical doctor, and took biology in college in the hope of selection for a medical seat under the Mustang king’s quota. While in Amrit Science College in Kathmandu, he was offered a scholarship to study Parks, Recreation and Tourism in New Zealand. He did not even know the meaning of the English word ‘recreation’, and failed a mandatory English test.&nbsp; Ever resourceful, Gurung convinced Edmund Hillary, New Zealand’s ambassador to Nepal at the time, that he would take English lessons when he got to Victoria University Wellington. He graduated from <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/remembering-pat-guru">Lincoln University</a> in Christchurch, and went on to do his PhD in natural science from University of Zürich, Switzerland.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240721050716_955ba8ed7169900be32bd9996d58f245b38fdc8f142c91571604fbc0d1db3636.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20240721050716_955ba8ed7169900be32bd9996d58f245b38fdc8f142c91571604fbc0d1db3636" data-rendition-name="original" width="3498" height="2360" loading="lazy" alt="Ghana Gurung"> <figcaption>Young Ghana Gurung with Sir Edmund Hillary before he left for college in New Zealand.</figcaption> </figure>  “I was born for conservation,” says Gurung, who is now WWF Nepal Country Director and was recently honoured with the <a href="https://www.lincoln.ac.nz/">Lincoln University</a> Alumni International Medal by his New Zealand alma mater. He adds, “As a child I studied Buddhism which is all about doing good for people and nature. It taught me about sentient brings, about interconnectedness, interdependence between all living and non-living things.” As a boy in Dhee, Gurung herded sheep and yaks and recalls that snow leopards were the main threat to the family livestock. “Snow leopards were then my biggest enemy,” he says, “<a href="https://medium.com/wwftogetherpossible/fighting-for-the-survival-of-an-old-foe-b517c4f04034">now they are my best friends</a>.” Gurung has been hailed as a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-leads-in-snow-leopard-study">pioneer of snow leopard conservation</a> in Nepal and globally. In 2022, he was named one of <a href="https://www.worldatlas.com/articles/meet-12-incredible-conservation-heroes-saving-our-wildlife-from-extinction.html">12 most incredible conservation heroes</a> in the world by World Atlas for his work.&nbsp; Today, snow leopard numbers are on the rise across the Nepal Himalaya, although the elusive endangered cats are threatened by the impact of climate breakdown. In fact, Gurung’s home village of <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2020/04/05/world/asia/nepal-himalayas-glacier-climate.html">Dhee has been nearly abandoned</a> because springs in the area have gone dry due to chronic winter drought. Growing up in Dhee, Gurung says he had a strong urge to excel in studies to dispel the entrenched notion that people from the mountains were not very smart. One of his biggest inspirations was his school teacher Man Bahadur Biswokarma of Marpha, who urged him to aim high and get a PhD someday.&nbsp; “I think I have made Man Bahadur Sir proud,” he says.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240721050716_e578bfa9bbdf3d6bad3e383971adffa46e099c26f024b1fb1eb1b4e6209fdafc.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20240721050716_e578bfa9bbdf3d6bad3e383971adffa46e099c26f024b1fb1eb1b4e6209fdafc" data-rendition-name="original" width="405" height="405" loading="lazy" alt="Ghana Gurung"> <figcaption>Gurung at age 16 in Mustang before going off to college.</figcaption> </figure>  At WWF, Gurung was closely involved in the creation and handover of the Kangchenjunga Conservation Area, a 2,030 sq km zone in eastern Nepal patterned after similar nature reserves in Annapurna and Manaslu.&nbsp; The Maoist conflict was at its peak, yet Gurung managed to do the groundwork with local officials and mother’s groups for the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/participating-to-save-kangchenjunga">Kangchenjunga Conservation Area</a> under the ladership of the government. Many of Nepal’s top conservationists arrived in Ghunsa for the official handover in September 2006, including his mentors <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=18587">Harka Gurung, Chandra Gurung, Mingma Norbu Sherpa and Tirtha Man Maskey</a>. After the ceremony, Ghana was supposed to join them for the helicopter ride back to Kathmandu but had to stay behind in Taplejung to prepare a press statement. Soon after takeoff in pouring rain, the Mi17 helicopter hit a mountain at 4,000m, <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=12536">killing all 24 people on board</a>.&nbsp; Ghana Gurung was involved in the search and rescue, and was determined with others to turn the tragedy into a long term effort to nurture a new generation of conservation leaders. Since then, the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/remembering-nepal-s-conservation-heroes">Mingma Norbu Sherpa Memorial Scholarships</a> has been sending <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=17700">two Nepalis to Lincoln University</a> in New Zealand every year , and WWF Nepal provides five memorial scholarships every year. &nbsp; At <a href="https://www.wwfnepal.org/">WWF Nepal</a>, Gurung is a proponent of an integrated approach to development that involves local communities in conservation, not the fortress model of fencing off wilderness areas championed in the West.&nbsp; He says: “In Nepal, unless you protect people, they will not protect wildlife. All these years I thought we were working for nature. Now I realise we were working for people. Human beings are a part of the living world, and it has to be a symbiotic relationship.”&nbsp; Indeed, indigenous communities living near the conservation areas and in buffer zones have been crucial to Nepal’s successes in conservation including tripling the tiger population in 12 years, doubling forest cover in 30 years, recording 752 days of zero poaching of rhinos putting Nepal in the global conservation map.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240721050716_b912a449e02f873bf636aaf699c9c09b35838d027813fc6aa4f8cec5e1d418f8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_15" data-image-id="20240721050716_b912a449e02f873bf636aaf699c9c09b35838d027813fc6aa4f8cec5e1d418f8" data-rendition-name="original" width="1667" height="2500" loading="lazy" alt="Ghana Gurung"> <figcaption>Photo: LINCOLN UNIVERSITY</figcaption> </figure>  However, more tigers mean prey density is declining and the animals are entering human settlements in search of food and water, leading to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/human-animal-interface-in-nepal-wildlife-corridor">increased human-wildlife contact</a>. “We are trying to convince people in the buffer zone about precautions they have to take near the park,” says Gurung, who has got WWF to help local people manage homestays for ecotourism benefits. While <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gkSpWxxNX10&amp;t=2s">Nepal’s success in tripling its tiger population</a> has increased attacks on people, the media magnifies tiger attacks even though many more people in Nepal are killed every year by snake bites. Gurung says, “Animal will not change their behaviour as they are wild, whereas we humans need to change our behaviour to live and thrive with wildlife which is one of biggest tourism assets and economic pillars of Nepal”. The increase in forest cover coupled with outmigration of local people has also meant that the undergrowth in buffer zones is now loaded with deadwood that is fuel for forest fires. Climate change-induced droughts have also meant that grasslands are tinder dry. Ghana Gurung says the answer to Nepal’s new conservation challenges lies in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/climate-breakdown-magnifies-western-nepal-s-woes">protecting water sources</a> in the catchment area, watersheds, wetlands, groundwater and controlling the river pollution. “Being climate-smart automatically means water resilience,” says Gurung, noting how natural springs across Nepal are going dry while in the Tarai, over-extraction of groundwater has led to ponds inside national parks drying up. Prolonged heat waves are making the water crisis worse. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/in-conservation-nepal-is-not-out-of-the-woods-yet">Unplanned infrastructure</a> is also adding to the challenge, Gurung says, and one of WWF’s focus areas is in ensuring that protected areas are not disturbed by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/protecting-protected-areas-from-infrastructure">highways, transmission lines and irrigation canals</a> bifurcating them. Climate smart and wildlife friendly infrastructure development is the way forward. The climate crisis has caused Gurung’s community to abandon Dhee and Samjong villages in Upper Mustang, the village where he was born. He says, “Climate breakdown is already happening, we have spent enough time talking about how bad it is. It is time to start doing something about it ourselves with nature-based solutions to protect our water sources.”

Sonia Awale

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Conversation with Mr Conservation

Patrick Devlin who taught a whole generation of Nepali environmentalists at Lincoln University in Christchurch died on 16 August at age 86.&nbsp; Many of us Nepali students in New Zealand knew him as <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/The-Kiwi,421" target="_blank">‘Pat Guru’</a>, a name that was a mark of our deep respect as well as the closeness we felt to him. For five decades, he was involved in training professionals in his home country as well as Nepal and other Asian countries. Pat’s students now shoulder the burden of continuing his legacy in training national park wardens and professionals managing nature reserves. When the history of the evolution of national park management is written, Pat will be remembered for his immense contribution to professionalising national park and reserve service in his home country as well as in Nepal and South East Asia.&nbsp; Among more than 50 of Pat Devlin’s Nepali students were Lhakpa Norbu Sherpa who helped establish the Qomolangma Nature Preserve in Tibet which shares its border with three national parks on the Nepal side, making it one of the largest protected areas in Asia.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023081906084_0a0a595107c5002f9fafe6c1e14419eb0f70b0ae86a7b1e4f32b220d61b0dbce.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2023081906084_0a0a595107c5002f9fafe6c1e14419eb0f70b0ae86a7b1e4f32b220d61b0dbce" data-rendition-name="original" width="3648" height="2736" loading="lazy" alt="Patrick Devlin"> <figcaption>Patrick Devlin with Shailendra Thakali in Christchurch in 2010. Photo: KUNDA DIXIT</figcaption> </figure>  Other students also hold important positions in international conservation organisations: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/11-day-trek-is-now-a-day-s-drive-in-nepal" target="_blank">Ghana Gurung</a> heads WWF Nepal, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-red-panda-house" target="_blank">Ang Phuri Sherpa</a> is Executive Director of Red Panda Network International, and <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/news/the-man-from-sikles" target="_blank">Hum Gurung</a> is Asia Partnership Manager for BirdLife International. Other Nepali Lincoln alumni that Pat tutored include Shankar Koirala who had a long stint with the Ministry of Forests and Soil Conservation and other ministries. Gopal Upadhaya, Megh Pandey and Phanindra Raj Kharel went on to head the Department of National Parks and Wildlife Conservation, and Mingma Norbu Sherpa was the head of WWF’s Asia Pacific Program. <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=12581" target="_blank">Mingma Sherpa</a> was among the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/remembering-nepal-s-conservation-heroes" target="_blank">dozen prominent Nepali and international conservationists</a>, officials and journalists who were killed in a <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/out-of-the-ashes" target="_blank">helicopter crash at Ghunsa in 2006</a> during the inauguration of the 2,035 sq km Kanchenjunga Conservation Area. <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=18151" target="_blank">Prof David Simmons</a>, another of Pat’s distinguished students, played a central role in establishing Lincoln University's <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=17700" target="_blank">Mingma Norbu Sherpa Memorial Scholarship</a> with support from Pat Devlin, Mingma’s family, WWF Nepal, and New Zealand. Ten Nepali students who got the scholarship have so far <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/so-far-so-good/the-nomadic-nepali" target="_blank">graduated with master degrees</a> from Lincoln.&nbsp; All national parks and reserves in New Zealand, and almost 70% of protected areas in Nepal were once managed by graduates from Lincoln University, Pat’s base camp to educate and train conservation professionals. He was the main supervisor for the majority of Nepali graduate and undergraduate students from the 1970 onwards.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023081906084_800499bd49d7b7058fcaa861d5c422d26d5bfc16bb6a1dd31424b75cfb285029.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="2023081906084_800499bd49d7b7058fcaa861d5c422d26d5bfc16bb6a1dd31424b75cfb285029" data-rendition-name="original" width="3303" height="2317" loading="lazy" alt="Patrick Devlin"> <figcaption>Pat Devlin felicitated in 2013 during a visit to Nepal by the Ministry of Forests and Soil Conservation and the Lincoln University Alumni Association for his immense contribution to protected area management in Nepal.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023081906084_8f43de5f4605c3f113d824e27f85cb31ff7d472773a9240a9af95bbfc3e4e3ee.jpg" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="2023081906084_8f43de5f4605c3f113d824e27f85cb31ff7d472773a9240a9af95bbfc3e4e3ee" data-rendition-name="original" width="1244" height="875" loading="lazy" alt="Patrick Devlin"> <figcaption>Pat Devlin with students he supervised at Lincoln University along with their families during a visit to Kathmandu.</figcaption> </figure>  &nbsp;As a supervisor, Pat was very supportive but non-compromising when it came to the quality of work. Pat inspired his students to produce the best. I had the honour to be the last student he supervised when I went back to Lincoln University to pursue a doctoral program in environmental management in 2008.&nbsp; Pat Guru was more than a supervisor to me. Besides constant encouragement and support, he and his wife, Maureen, were great hosts. They were kind to me and my family as they had been to a generation of Nepali students, made sure we had comfortable and enjoyed our time and experience in New Zealand. During the 1970s and 80s, the majority of rangers working for national parks and reserves in New Zealand had no formal degrees or training. They chose the career out of a love for nature and the great outdoors, and were happy to take remote postings. As national parks and reserves started to become popular, park management grew more challenging and complex.&nbsp; Pat was quick to realise this and devoted his entire life to developing and teaching parks and recreation courses at Lincoln University, and most importantly grooming and mentoring the next generation of managers. &nbsp; He was key to the design of ‘Parks and Recreation’ courses at Lincoln and also condensed the Parks and Recreation syllabus into six-week block courses for in-service park rangers that professionalised New Zealand’s national park and reserve services and management.&nbsp; Lincoln University under Pat also offered block courses to the Park and Forests service in Kuching in Malaysia. Pat also wanted to roll out his block courses in Nepal, but did not materialise. There is an urgent need in Nepal to include multidisciplinary teams to effectively manage emerging challenges related to tourism, buffer zone management, climate change, human-wildlife conflicts, and local aspirations. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023081906084_3f754bb3595b022546a6413497f192cd05b345b42d8bd4ca49cd151eb2fdb657.jpg" data-media-id="editor_13" data-image-id="2023081906084_3f754bb3595b022546a6413497f192cd05b345b42d8bd4ca49cd151eb2fdb657" data-rendition-name="original" width="2592" height="1936" loading="lazy" alt="Patrick Devlin"> <figcaption>Pat Devlin (with umbrella) in Chitwan National Park in 2013 with his wife Maureen, David Simmons and a park official in 2013. Photo: HUM GURUNG</figcaption> </figure>  Pat was modest and generous to a fault. Despite his accomplishments, he was not one to brag about them or seek the limelight. Always calm and composed, he took all challenges in his stride.&nbsp; My last meeting with Pat was in April this year. Despite failing health, he stood up, shook hands, smiled, tossed a drink, and made us feel at ease. He took immense pride in the achievements of his students, and kept in touch with them as much as possible right till the end.&nbsp; Patrick Devlin’s life work lives on in New Zealand, Nepal, Sarawak and around the world. His funeral will be held in Christchurch on 23 August. Shailendra Thakali, PhD is a freelance consultant in environmental conservation, tourism and livelihoods.

Remembering Pat Guru

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221129121152/6385f2b79c7e80680e0cc95bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="960"/><figcaption>Bill Gavin in New Zealand last year, telling a good story of the “old days” from his eventful life. Photo: MICHAEL CLARK</figcaption></figure>“Oh dear, look what happened to my pants!” We pulled onto the beach and Bill clambered out of the big rubber raft having just emerged from one of the more impressive rapids on Nepal’s Trisuli River. The chilly curtain of cold water and adrenaline rush of surviving Upset without an upset had us all whooping with excitement. Bill’s stylish beige linen trousers had shrunk with the dousing and were clinging to his legs like an unseemly pair of tights.Bill Gavin was with us on one of the early three-day river runs, to be followed by a few days wildlife watching at Tiger Tops Chitwan. It was 1982 and the road from Mugling to Bharatpur was nearing completion. Villagers along the banks still found our overnight camps a curiosity, and no belching truck fumes polluted the evening beers around a driftwood blaze or disturbed the silent nights under a canopy of stars.The wild and wonderfully wicked Bill Gavin was a legend brimming with passion, vigour and colour who had exploded into my life as a friend of my louche and much-loved Uncle Terry. Together they haunted the glamorous Grand Prix circuit of the swinging 1960s. Bill writing about motor racing (he was European editor of Car &amp; Driver magazine and biographer of world champion Jim Clark) and Terry managing a Formula I driver who was killed in a crash, as happened all too often in those unsafety-conscious days.When I hooked up with them in London, Terry was in the music business (signing Dire Straits was his claim to fame) and Bill was big into movies after a spell managing pop groups. The third of this unlikely trio of best mates was Stanley Myers, composer of the haunting Deer Hunter theme.The story goes that Bill talked his way into movie production starting as the GTO boss’ chauffeur and ending up as the boss, but stories like that abound about Bill Gavin. He toured with chart-toppers The Sweet, New Seekers and Springfield Revival, and did gigs with Gary Glitter. He was almost recruited by the CIA, narrated the 1966 film Grand Prix, managed a Ferrari team, released the first Antipodean movie Picnic at Hanging Rock in UK, took Apocalypse Now to Australia, and helped finance New Zealand’s What Became of the Broken Hearted? and Whale Rider, that marvellous Maori classic.At the time we were camping riverside on the Trisuli in his terminally shrunken pants, Bill was riding high as the hard-driving distribution and sales wizard on the board of Goldcrest Films, on his way back to London from the Killing Fields’ shoot in Thailand. Goldcrest’s other best pictures included Chariots of Fire, Local Hero and Gandhi, and Bill had his own UK company, Gavin Films.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221129121152/6385f2ba9c7e80680e0cc95cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="523" height="823"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Bill loved to shock and push the envelope, long before the #metoo generation. He ricocheted between marriages and girlfriends, had three wonderful children, Tom, Panda and the eldest who was saddled with the name Gavin. Yes, Gavin Gavin, whose gorgeous mother Sarah Jane was Bill’s first wife and a Mary Quant model. At their parties you might meet Graham Hill and other racing drivers, Victor Hugo’s granddaughter, Polish film directors with unpronounceable names, or Barry Humphries aka Dame Edna slumped in their sitting room telling cannibal air-crash jokes: “We’re on the last leg of the flight.”At one of these eclectic gatherings, I had a Scottish neighbour in tow: “See you later, I’ll look after myself,” he called cheerfully as I disappeared into the smoky crowd. Finding himself next to a skinny, bespectacled chap on the sofa, attempts at polite conversation were not going well. “I’m a guitarist,” was all he could extract. “What sort of guitar - rock or pop or jazz - or classical guitar, like John Williams?” Andrew was struggling. “I am John Williams,” came the laconic reply.Bill was famous for behaving badly and being in love with him was a recipe for disaster. He had a mercurial temper and a reputation for bullying employees. I once saw him explode into unjustifiable road rage as he deftly wove his flash car through the London traffic -- speed was a religion. And our brief walk-out in the early 1980s ended dramatically and finally when he ran off with my brother’s girlfriend, on the Concorde to New York no less, thus delivering a memorable family double whammy. We consoled ourselves that they thoroughly deserved each other, and it didn’t last long.Bill’s plunge from these dizzying heights of fame and fashion followed a few too many divorces and the vagaries of the British film business. His expensive mews house in Notting Hill, silver Porsche, trendy Italian restaurants, and champagne Pimms parties under the yellow laburnum all evaporated in the 1990s when he beat a hasty retreat to his native New Zealand.Adapting with aplomb to life in a downtown Auckland high-rise council flat, Bill painted it rich dark colours, and filled it with books, pictures and an oversize leather casting couch shipped across the world from his West End office. At economical shepherd’s pie dinner parties renowned for bevies of loyal media and driving friends, over a glass or three of wine Bill would regale us with tales of the “old days”, his braying laugh filling the room. Despite his straitened circumstances he contrived to drive a smart Mercedes donated by a kind admirer who shared his petrol-head passion.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221129121152/6385f2bc9c7e80680e0cc95djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="664" height="524"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>In a rare moment of quiet reflection, Bill confided that his ideal retirement was a cottage in the Bay of Islands, in New Zealand’s far north. It was the first time I had heard of the place, but it never happened. Aged 83, Bill Gavin died last month at home in Auckland, rescued by friends and family from grim isolation in a locked-down Covid-19 hospital, he peacefully departed a life packed with motors, music and movies.Some young devotees recently videoed Bill for a school project, deftly capturing his enthusiastic essence, even at the end: “Looking back on all my careers, motor racing was certainly the most exciting … I was attracted by the intellectual intensity of the sport … I knew everybody ...”In our last call arranged by Bill’s kind niece his laboured breathing penetrated the long-distance WhatsApp line, but he squeezed her hand and I could feel his smile as I told him that, despite everything, I still loved him and always would. Bill had that sort of effect on people.

Lisa Choegyal

The wild and wonderful Bill Gavin, 1936-2020

Under a gunmetal grey sky, the four of us stood for the Last Post on an expansive empty lawn as the crows wheeled overhead. The Nepal Army general and British Gurkha colonel saluted smartly in their uniforms, whilst the Ambassador and I bowed our heads. The red poppies in all our lapels symbolised remembrance and acknowledgment of the ultimate sacrifice by all men and women in the armed forces during times of conflict.It must have been the strangest Anzac Day commemoration ever. The grass, still soggy from yesterday’s rain, was dotted with crimson rose petals fallen from the luscious red wreathes. In turn we had laid them between the two flags, on the anniversary of the First World War Gallipoli landing by the ANZACs (Australia and New Zealand Army Corps), in remembrance of the dreadful battlefield losses that ensued on both sides and from so many nations. After the one minute silence in the deserted garden, the Reveille was trumpeted on an embassy iPhone.Since services began on 25 April 1916, this year 2020 was the first Anzac Day ever that Australians and New Zealanders were not able to gather nationwide to mark the anniversary, due to the social isolation battle against COVID-19. Instead, digitally shared messages urged individual calls to action -- messages of solidarity displayed in home windows, the laying of virtual poppies at the online cenotaph, and alone standing at dawn in driveways, gates and front doors to mark the moment #standatdawn.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121120/636b8d909c7e80680e06b355jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2699" height="2265"/><figcaption>Australian Ambassador Peter Budd, Lt-Gen Sarad Kumar Giri, Chief of General Staff, Nepal Army, Col Richard Goodman MBE, Commander, British Gurkhas Nepal and Lisa Choegyal Honorary Consul of New Zealand at the Anzac Day service on 25 April 2020 during the lockdown in Kathmandu. Photo: JAMES HAZELL</figcaption></figure>Every year the Australian Embassy hosts our Anzac Day service in Kathmandu, echoing solemn sunrise ceremonies all over Australia and New Zealand, with many young people as well as old brought together to mark this most important joint national occasion. Normally the garden is thronged with several hundred Australians, New Zealanders, Nepalis and the international community, enlivened by Nepali and Gurkha buglers and bagpipers, and followed by a slap-up Aussie breakfast that is part of the attraction.Last year as well as long term residents and tourists, several mountaineers joined us including Guy Cotter, Robert Mads Anderson and a couple of Sir Edmund Hillary’s grandchildren -- Russell Brice was absent, recovering from his fall from a rooftop restaurant. This year there are no expeditions and the mountains are closed to trekkers. Ambassador Pete and Emma boiled the kettle for coffee and offered us homemade Anzac biscuits in their empty house.I’m not sure when the Australian-hosted Anzac Day tradition began in Nepal, but is must have been around 1990 when the embassy moved to its current compound in Bansbari. Elizabeth Hawley regularly attended as New Zealand Honorary Consul before me. With no compunction she admitted to having delivered the exact same Anzac address every year, claiming no one ever noticed.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121120/636b8d949c7e80680e06b356jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3000" height="1500">Although diplomatic relations between Nepal and Australia have existed since 1960, it was ambassador Diane Johnstone, affectionately known as ‘Call-me-Di’, who set up in Kathmandu from a cosy rented house in Thapathali in 1986 with a guitar-playing husband. The succession of early incumbents in the representational role were marked by life-changing events during their tenure – separation, divorce, engagement and marriage – including one emotional liaison with a Bollywood superstar that ended in tears. Over the decades, the mission has achieved many milestones in humanitarian and development aid, technical assistance and trade support.The popularity of Australian wine in Kathmandu dates back to one inspired ambassador who offered to import cases for his diplomatic friends -- and before the days of wine being available in the open market, he had many friends. Eventually both governments noticed when the embassy wine order exceeded that of much larger missions in London and Paris, dryly pointing out that every official Australian in Nepal must have been consuming about three dozen bottles a day. Aussie producers had the last laugh however, with their brands still established today as Nepal’s wine of choice amongst the chatterati.We wanted to do something special to commemorate the 100-year anniversary of Gallipoli on 25 April 2015. Thousands were gathering in Turkey, including the Prince of Wales and a ministerial delegation from Nepal. The UK had observed the outbreak of World War I with a dramatic moat-ful of 888,246 ceramic poppies around the Tower of London, representing all British and Commonwealth fatalities.Hoping to achieve a similarly grand gesture, the Gurkha commander conspired with us to ship 120,000 poppies from the British Legion in London, the idea being to carpet the grounds of the Australian ambassador’s home with a sea of scarlet. Each paper poppy raises at least a pound each but, thanks to British Gurkha generosity and skilled negotiations, boxes of poppies were delivered to the Australians with the Kiwi consulate paying only a nominal amount. At the last minute, however, the ambassador’s wife vetoed the idea on the grounds that it would be hard to tidy up afterwards and make a mess of her garden.The surfeit of poppies, plenty for future events, was soon erased from minds on that unforgettable 25 April five years ago. I had just returned home to Budanilkantha, kicked off my shoes and settled on the terrace with my laptop and the dogs when at 11:56 am the earthquake struck. Terracotta tiles rained off the roof, my car careened violently beneath the magnolia tree, and in the distance far below a pall of dust rose eerily above the assaulted city.No doubt, we all remember exactly where we were and how we felt at that fateful moment on Anzac Day 2015, when our lives were rocked forever.

The strangest Anzac Day ever

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121116/636b8c479c7e80680e06b2edjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1478" height="986"/><figcaption>Prime Minister Oli and NCP co-chair Pushpa Kamal Dahal maintain physical distance at a meeting on Wednesday of MPs from the Far-Western Province to discuss the Cabinet's two ordinances. Photo: PMO</figcaption></figure>K P Oli is now halfway through <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/olis-1st-year/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">his term as prime minister</a>  With almost a two-thirds majority, there was much hope that he would show the kind of statesmanship needed to fulfil his election promise of stabilising politics to focus on raising living standards.The people believed him, and gave his party an overwhelming mandate. But <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/two-thirds-empty/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">the NCP predictably fell into the same rut</a> as governments since 1990 -- tainted by cronyism, corruption, poor governance and an utter disregard for the poor and weak sections of Nepali society.<a style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/pressure-mounts-on-pm-oli/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Pressure mounts on PM Oli</a>, Saindra RaiAlthough Nepal has so far, quite luckily and inexplicably, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-must-hope-for-the-best-prepare-for-the-worst/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">escaped the worst of the COVID-19 pandemic</a>  it has exposed the structural imbalance and inequality in Nepali society. Poor state management and political failure have been the hallmarks of previous governments, but this virus has brought it up to the surface like nothing before.It is not just Nepal, around the world the pandemic has exposed governance failure and poor leadership. Some analysts maintain that <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/what-nepal-can-learn-from-china-about-covid-19/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">authoritarian states have been able to better control the spread of the disease</a>, while democracies have floundered.But for every China there is an India, and for every New Zealand there is an Iran. Just like the virus does not respect national boundaries, it does not seem to care about ideology either. In this war, what is important is the health strategy of the state, how strictly isolation is enforced and for how long. The virus does not care if it is a totalitarian government that does it or a democratic one.Governments are also faced with a stark choice: protect the health of citizens or <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-prepares-for-economic-fallout-of-pandemic/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">save the economy</a>. The economy cannot be saved unless you make it safe for citizens first, but some governments have quite openly tried to keep businesses going. This is where politics gets tangled with the pandemic.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121116/636b8c4a9c7e80680e06b2eejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1502" height="892"><figcaption>Prime Minister Oli heads back to his residence in Baluwatar after the Cabinet meeting on Monday that endorsed an ordinance to make it easier for political parties to split. Photo: PMO</figcaption></figure>Some democratic countries using the disease as an excuse to stifle dissent, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/pandemic-pangs/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">squeeze the media</a>  and abuse emergency powers. Other elected governments which have failed to manage the epidemic effectively, or have shown a disregard for the vulnerable, resort to extra-constitutional measures to cover up their deficiencies.The Oli administration is guilty of both. The pre-coronavirus <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/censuring-censorship/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">legislations on media control hang</a> like a sword over the heads of journalists. The prime minister himself accused reporters this week of exaggerating the plight of tens of thousands <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-prepares-for-economic-fallout-of-pandemic/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">trapped by the lockdown</a>  He has accused the media of having a political agenda in exposing his secretariat’s nexus with businesses profiteering in <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-to-test-covid-19-test-kits-from-china/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">procurement contracts of medical equipment from China</a>.Even before the pandemic, disillusionment was running high. The Oli government was wracked by one scandal a week – the real estate heist in Baluwatar, the access given to Yeti Holdings over former royal property, the security printing press deal in which Oli’s trusted Information Minister was caught on tape negotiating a $6 million kickback. And now, the blanket coverage in the media of people left hungry, tired and cashless by the lockdown has exposed the communist government’s lack of sensitivity to the proletariat.Physically weakened by his second kidney transplant, the politically isolated within his own party, the beleaguered prime minister <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/pressure-mounts-on-pm-oli/" target="_blank" rel="noopener" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/pressure-mounts-on-pm-oli/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1587551043543000&amp;usg=AFQjCNE0sCB_h089dkOeDNQwNtN7TiWe7Q">made a surprise move on Monday</a> by getting the Cabinet to pass two ordinances, one of which will make it easier to legally split a political party. This sent a shock wave through the NCP, brought howls of protest from coalition partners and the opposition, and a wave of outrage from commentators and social media.Indeed, the timing was all wrong. Why was Oli in such a tearing hurry to allow political parties to split, when the country, and the world, is going through one of its worst crises in recent times? This was the time to focus on figuring out a post-COVID-19 exit strategy, and <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/unlocking-the-economy-post-lockdown/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">getting the economy cranked up again</a>. For this, the country needs all political parties to row in the same direction.What the ordinance proves is that for the prime minister, his own political longevity is more important than the country’s ability to survive the pandemic and its economic fallout. His goal is still to prevent his arch-nemesis Pushpa Kamal Dahal from succeeding him as prime minister for which he is trying to thwart a possible no-confidence vote against him by holding up the threat of splitting the party.But what the move exposed is a wholesale disregard for democratic norms, constitutionalism, and an undermining of an elected parliament. This will force the country into prolonged instability. And instead of making him stronger, the move has weakened Prime Minister Oli.

Playing politics in a pandemic

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110912114/636b89e99c7e80680e06b211jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1280" height="960"/><figcaption>Australian officials arrive at a strangely deserted Tribhuvan International Airport</figcaption></figure>The plane flew in an elegant arc silhouetted against the sunset far above some lazily circling raptors, a victory lap around the purple hills of the Kathmandu Valley before heading southeast. Who would have thought a single Nepal Airlines wheels-up could be such a triumph, but in the empty skies over a locked down South Asia, this take-off was something truly exceptional.After days of frenetic work and delicate negotiations, the Australian Embassy team in Kathmandu had achieved a commercial charter to repatriate stranded tourists back home. The infinitely complex exercise involved the governments of Nepal, Australia and New Zealand at a time when travel restrictions were becoming ever more stringent in an effort to halt the coronavirus’ gallop around the globe. Considering there was so little air traffic anywhere, it was all excessively complicated.Summoned by government advisories, many Aussies and Kiwis returned home before the ban, but those remaining emerged from the mountains, meditation and yoga retreats, family visits, or simply had left it too late to leave. For the trapped tourists clinging to the Australian Embassy lifeline, hopes were raised then dashed.<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-airlines-to-fly-stranded-australian-tourists-to-sydney/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepal Airlines to fly stranded Australian tourists to Sydney</a>Since the surprise suspension of international flights, angst-ridden rumours ricocheted around ‘Stranded-in-Nepal’ online chats and Facebook chronicled the roller-coaster dynamics. Qatar Airways morphed into Nepal Airlines as the carrier, and Brisbane replaced Sydney as the destination when it was deemed that quarantine facilities were already full.Never before has Nepal Airlines flown to Australia, so this was in effect its inaugural flight down under. Permissions had to be sought to overfly eight countries between Kathmandu and Brisbane, exemptions were required even to transit Australian airports, and connections had to be guaranteed with the ever dwindling trans-Tasman flight options – Air New Zealand obligingly adjusted their departure time by several hours to suit us.Decisions, revisions, changes and adjustments became highly political under the escalating epidemic, allegedly needing sign off by cabinet members and prime ministers. Every passenger would be subject to 14 days isolation at their destination, to slow the spread and flatten the curve. Decision makers were jittery from failures in other cooperative evacuations: in Peru last week a bunch of aggressively disappointed New Zealanders had been off-loaded from an Australian flight.Such were the ever-evolving uncertainties and behind-the-scenes diplomacies, that it was not until Monday that all the pieces were in place for the New Zealand government to announce that the Wednesday flight was viable with permissions and connections to get Kiwis back home to Auckland from Nepal. Final landing permission was only granted from Canberra on the morning of departure, which was just as well as by then 250 excited passengers had confirmed and paid, 27 of them New Zealanders.Each person had a story. It had been a fraught week tracking tourists and trekkers, and reassuring frantic families, themselves in isolation at home. A crisis helpline in Wellington supported desperate travellers marooned around the world. I talked to one couple who even considered marriage to enable their evacuation, but border security solved their predicament by expediting the additional paperwork required by the COVID-19 crisis at exemplary speed.As the shuttle buses disgorged passengers loaded with backpacks and baggage, relief, stress and excitement reverberated around the deserted Kathmandu airport. Face masks were distributed, temperatures checked, and notices reminded us to remain one metre social distanced.Check-in was not without its drama. Some couples were not seated together who wanted to be, and some were seated together who did not want to be. A lost phone was found and a lost passport was not, resulting in some high-level fancy footwork resolved only at the very last minute. The one shop open in the terminal made a killing in overpriced chocolate and fizzy drinks. “Sorry, no cappuccinos only black coffee. The cows are on lockdown.”Photos and selfies were snapped, and the Nepali flight crew politely posed in their distinctive uniforms and Sherpa-striped aprons. The Australian Ambassador was ubiquitous in his dark suit and reassuring smile, chatting with families and fielding calls from the foreign minister. The rest of us workers rushed around, distinctive in lurid yellow official vests with high-vis silver strips, attempting to smooth the airport processing. Most were grateful and gracious, only a handful still grumpy and unsettled by such unprecedented events.For the last two days tickets had been issued and payments collected amidst the sunny flowerbeds, friendly dogs and shady trees of the embassy gardens in Bansbari. With a boarding pass in hand and the new RA airbus in sight on the tarmac, I watched the strain and confusion of the past week begin to evaporate, tensions to relax, anxiety levels to ease, and new friendships to coalesce.Once the 250 had made their laborious way through immigration, security and into the departure lounge, festooned with hand bags, day packs and children, I started to think that this flight might actually happen.Thanks to meticulous pre-planning by the Aussies and our New Zealand team based in Delhi, plus the coordinated efforts of Nepal Airlines, Bon Travel, Nepal Police, airport authorities, health, immigration, security and many others,  the assault course of bureaucratic hurdles had apparently been successfully navigated. The experienced New Zealand High Commissioner in Delhi was monitoring by WhatsApp: ‘I’ll only believe it when the plane is off the ground.’With the last of the check-ins complete, I was making my way upstairs when a familiar voice stopped me in my tracks. “Hey Lisa, this is my first visit to Australia, what a thrill, please say something for my blog.” It took me some moments to recognise Captain Vijay Lama of Nepal Airlines obscured by a stylish black face mask under a braided cap, wielding his iPhone in record mode, and burdened with a collection of travel cases.His thick hair was greyer than when we served together as judges for Miss Nepal 2004, but Vijay’s energy and charm was undiminished. “The closest I came was acting in EVEREST, the Hollywood movie about New Zealand mountaineers! I’d love to meet the Australian Ambassador who has accomplished this historic maiden flight.”Basking in Vijay’s charismatic wake, we sped through security and strode into the departure lounge. A frisson of recognition swept through the cavernous hall as every local spotted the celebrity pilot, actor, singer and television presenter – a good proportion of the flight were Australians of Nepali origin and Nepalis with permanent residency.The Ambassador finished addressing his departing throng, emphasising the unique circumstances that surrounded the national flag carrier’s first ever flight to Australia. Cameras clicked as I introduced him to the superstar captain, his smile dazzling: “Now I know that today our passengers are homeward bound in the very best of hands.”<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110912114/636b89ec9c7e80680e06b212jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1280" height="960"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110912114/636b89ef9c7e80680e06b213jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1280" height="960"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110912114/636b89f29c7e80680e06b214jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110912114/636b89f59c7e80680e06b215jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="4032" height="3024"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110912114/636b89f99c7e80680e06b216jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="4032" height="3024"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110912114/636b89fc9c7e80680e06b217jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1598" height="900"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110912114/636b89ff9c7e80680e06b218jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1316" height="640"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110912114/636b8a029c7e80680e06b219jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="695"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110912114/636b8a069c7e80680e06b21ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="480">Lisa Choegyal writes the So Far So Good fortnightly column for Nepali Times, and is the Honorary Consul for New Zealand in Nepal.

Aussies and Kiwis homeward bound from Nepal

Sunil’s eyes shine with excitement and his wispy beard blows in the southern hemisphere breeze. The churning ocean accounts for his queasy stomach, but he is thrilled by the squawking mass of seabirds and dense stench of penguins on the rocky island behind him.The names of New Zealand’s forgotten Subantarctic islands are unfamiliar to most of us - Campbell Island, Auckland Island, The Snares – and about as far from the hills of Sunil’s Langtang home as it is possible to imagine.This month Sunil Tamang returned home to Nepal after two years in New Zealand completing his Masters degree in environmental science at Lincoln University. His fellow <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=17700#.Xno1GIgzbIV">Mingma Norbu Sherpa Memorial (MNSMS)</a> scholar, Ngawang Thapke Sherpa, only just made it on the last flight from Singapore before Nepal closed. Already the days of pre-COVID carefree travel seem long gone.Sunil and Ngawang stayed in Christchurch long enough to settle in the two new scholarship recipients, Pasang Lamu and Tsewang Nuru, both Sherpas from the Khumbu who arrived fresh and keen last month. These distinguished four are the most recent of 14 young Nepalis selected from dozens of applicants for the scholarship that honours the conservation legacy of <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=12581#.Xno1xYgzbIV" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Mingma Norbu</a>, who was lost in the Ghunsa helicopter crash 14 years ago.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/out-of-the-ashes/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Out of the ashes</a>, Lisa Choegyal<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101156/636b79e39c7e80680e06472ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="1500"/><figcaption>Honouring the conservation legacy of Mingma Norbu Sherpa, Sunil Tamang and Ngawang Thapke Sherpa returned to Nepal this month having completed their Masters in environmental science at Lincoln University New Zealand.</figcaption></figure>Specialising in disaster risk and resilience, Sunil came to our notice on the scholarship committee because of his outstanding response to the 2015 earthquakes when he single-handedly raised the funds and organised the rebuild of 22 houses in his home village of Old Syabru Besi. “Tired of waiting for slow moving and ineffective government assistance, I initiated the project to rebuild the village.”After helping <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/the-reincarnation-of-a-holy-valley/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Langtang</a>, he joined ICIMOD to continue post-disaster reconstruction and recovery work across the country. I first came across Sunil when in January 2011 as a 20-year-old he set out on foot from Kanchenjunga with Rs28,000 in his pocket and trekked the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=16399#.Xno2SYgzbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Great Himalaya Trail </a>all the way to Lake Rara. He was just the kind of village kid we thought would appreciate two years of life and study in New Zealand.Sunil’s focussed energy did not go unnoticed at Lincoln and he soon joined a summer project with his professors, assessing economic valuation of urban waterways of Christchurch. He has been spotted hiking in the hills, lounging by pristine lakes, messing about with bikes, and swimming off the coast with Dusky dolphins.When Mingma’s widow Phurba and I visited last year, he showed us the Lincoln campus and exhibition he had helped assemble to celebrate 100 years since Sir Edmund Hillary’s birth, his easy smile and Harry Potter glasses glittering with zeal.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101156/636b79e69c7e80680e06472bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1410" height="928"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Prompted by the university staff, Sunil entered the Heritage Expedition’s True Young Explorer scholarship whose prize was a two week cruise on one of their purpose-built ships in the Southern Ocean. Heritage Expeditions is a family-owned New Zealand company committed to ‘conservation through experiential learning’ to create a league of ‘ambassadors’ inspired to protect the unique flora and fauna of these precious areas for future generations. And Sunil won.Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=17700#.Xno2wogzbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Re-generation</a>, Rubeena MahatoNormally costing close to $10,000, the privileged prize took Sunil with a few dozen clients to these remote rocky islands in search of birds, nature, botany and history, protected as World Heritage Sites for their vast array of wildlife including albatross, penguins, petrels, prions and marine mammals like sea lions, fur seals and elephant seals. I coveted this trip of a lifetime to distant dots on the map.Whilst Sunil was fighting sea-sickness in these tiny inhospitable havens for some of the most abundant and unique wildlife on the planet, I was taking the two hour flight back from a job in New Zealand’s most eastern territory and another biodiversity hotspot, the remote Chatham Islands. The rattling Corvair prop plane had an albatross bill painted onto its nose, parked in the furthest corner of the airstrip as if in shame.“I think I had better wash your hair three times!” The Wellington hairdresser was impressed. Dust from the gravel roads of the Chatham Islands was so thick I had scarcely been able to drag a brush through it for days. But I missed the wide-open windswept spaces – the tidy streets and dark suits of New Zealand’s capital seemed tame in comparison.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101156/636b79e99c7e80680e06472cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1032"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Dave and I had been helping to sort out a failing tourist lodge in New Zealand’s most eastern territory, owned by the original Moriori inhabitants and located overlooking rolling green sheep pastures, trees that grow horizontal in the perpetual wind, and a peaceful lake full of black swans. “Introduced from Australia, and breeding something terrible,” we were told by a gnarled resident. “We shoot them regularly but they still proliferate, threatening to eclipse our local birds. Same as the weka.”Cherished as a protected native bird in New Zealand itself (never referred to as the mainland as you might expect), the squat brown wekas are so ubiquitous that we found weka pate and weka stew on regular island menus.Read also: <a style="font-family: -webkit-standard; letter-spacing: normal;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/more-trekkers-more-trees/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">More trekkers, more trees</a>, Adam Stern<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101156/636b79ec9c7e80680e06472djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Along with plentiful seafood, glistening paua, kina shellfish and huge blue cod for which the Chatham Islands are renowned. Fanciful fishing stories abound, and Dave must be the only angler who never got a bite in an hour diligently spent trying on the Waitangi wharf, though a sinister shark-shaped shadow patrolling the harbour gave him a scare.Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=18587#.Xno3GIgzbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Their souls march on,</a> Bhrikuti Rai and Stuti SharmaSwimming and beach activities are not encouraged as the Chatham’s feature as a favourite patrol of Great White sharks, as well as other less deadly species. One of the first islanders we met was a young chap missing an arm, the result of an accident diving for crayfish.The archipelago, ‘a land apart’, boasts an array of endemic birds and unique flora that have developed differently in the Chatham conditions, as well as New Zealand species that have been blown there 800 km offshore in the midst of the empty ocean.But although rare and rescued from extinction, I doubt the black robin, mollymawk and magenta petrel of the Chathams compare to the wonders of wildlife that Sunil saw on his Subantarctic expedition.So welcome back, the nomadic Nepalis flying the MNSMS flag. And keep up your exemplary energy and gusto now that you are home.

The Nomadic Nepali

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101116/636b70129c7e80680e06005bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="998"/><figcaption>Photo : GOPAL GADTAULA</figcaption></figure>Manoj Rai was a 17-year-old student in a school in Tashigang, Bhutan in 1990, when soldiers arrived at his dorm and took away all the Nepali books. They piled them high in the courtyard, and set them alight.A few days later, the boy decided to escape the army’s dragnet and without even returning home he went down to the border, where the Indian security forces were packing other Bhutanese like him into trucks and dumping them in eastern Nepal.Thousands of refugees from Bhutan lived under plastic sheets by the side of the Kankai River in Jhapa. Many fainted from trauma, culture shock and homesickness. On a single day, Manoj Rai remembers cremating 28 children who had died of epidemics.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/who-stands-with-bhutanese-refugees-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Who stands with Bhutanese refugees in Nepal?,</a> Bhuwan Gautam and T P Mishra“We refugees know very well the meaning of life,” Rai said with a faraway look in his eyes, at his home in Charlotte, North Carolina. He is among the nearly 95,000 refugees from Bhutan who have been resettled in the United States. Others have gone to New Zealand, Norway, UK, Australia, the Netherlands and Canada.Rai opted for resettlement after seeing no possibility of returning to Bhutan, and tried to convince as many of his compatriots as possible to take up the offer. Some were resolutely refusing to move, but he tried to convince them that being a citizen of a foreign country, rather than a refugee, could help them return to Bhutan one day. Many third-generation Bhutanese are now studying in the world’s top universities.Rai has always been interested in music, often taking his small band house-to-house during Dasain and Tihar in Nepal, performing songs of longing for home in Bhutan. Villagers used to give them rice, gundruk and vegetables, which the refugees cooked in the camps by the dusty river banks.“We were always hungry, but we had to eat to live. And music was a way to feed ourselves,” Manoj recalls. “And now, on the other side of the world from home, we are trying to preserve our culture.”Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Bhutanese-refugees-resettlement-program-ending-in-2018,4121" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The end of the road for Bhutan's refugees</a>,Jenna Kunze Soon, relief organisations like World Lutheran Foundation, Save the Children, the UN High Commission for Refugees and others came to the rescue of the refugees, settling them in seven camps<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101116/636b70159c7e80680e06005cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1050" height="738">in Jhapa and Morang, where 120,000 Bhutanese lived for more than 20 years, until resettlement.“We were floating like kites. We missed home, and slept in jute sacks on the sand,” remembers Manoj, who could not even go back to Bhutan when his mother died there. “That is my biggest regret -- that I was not there for my mother. There are many Bhutanese like me.”Manoj came to the US 8 years ago and recorded over 70 songs since then. He has also founded the charity Love and Sports, which supports Nepali art, culture and music with an annual gathering in which the best are honoured with awards.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/family-separation-bhutan-style/">Family separation, Bhutan-style</a>, Jamie PiotrowskiMany of Manoj’s Nepali songs are about Bhutan. The translated lyrics of one of them:‘In the lap of the Himalaya is our dear BhutanWe blossom as we live together as oneDon’t cry, mother, we will make you smileWe will decorate our motherland with flowers.’

Ex-refugee takes refuge in music

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110814114/636a54479c7e80680e05239fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="936" height="578"/><figcaption>The celebrated New Zealand's All Blacks will be defending their Rugby World Cup title in Japan next month, here shown triumphant in 2015</figcaption></figure>I was hemmed in on all sides by a resonating wall of damp dark jackets, the wide bodies of my enthusiastic neighbours. The crowd was on its feet roaring and whooping, the joyous chants as intense as any South Asian festival throng.Fuelled with drink and devotion, unadulterated passionate approval greeted the latest score. Sheets of winter rain fell steadily on the green grass field, droplets glistening in the glare of the arc lights above us, but nothing could dampen the mass ecstasy.I was in the midst of the unlikely temple precinct of Eden Park, Auckland’s sports stadium and the shrine dedicated to New Zealand Rugby Union. The worship of New Zealand’s All Black team is well known to inspire national religious fervour, the adoration accorded to the elite players up there with divine beings and Himalayan gods. Team selection is headline news, coaches are considered heroes, deaths of past players are marked with respectful silence, and any match lost, god forbid, is mourned as a national disaster.The collective veneration, power of the pack and crush of bodies adulating a selfless common cause had all the hallmarks of a spiritual jamboree — the festive throng of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/my-sweet-lord/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Krishna Jayanti</a>, the orange host of Pashupati’s Shivaratri sadhus, the glittering red sea of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepali-folk-songs-move-beyond-love-and-loss/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Tij</a>, acres of cross-legged Kalachakra Buddhists, and the multitude of pilgrims at India’s Kumbh Mela, the huge gathering held every 12 years in northern India.Granted, the Kumbh crowd is counted in tens of millions rather than mere tens of thousands in Auckland and, instead of black jerseys and protective headgear, most devotees are naked except for a loin cloth, matted hair, sacred threads or vibrant saris.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110814114/636a544a9c7e80680e0523a0jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="788"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Although from a country of less than five million people, the All Blacks are respected throughout the world as the side to beat, the champions hardly ever knocked off their rugby number one slot. Masters of the oval ball, their intimidating Maori haka is performed before each match, calculated to inspire awe in the opposition with beefy knees bent, eyes wide, tongues protruding. The squad of massive, muscled, tattooed athletes are household names in New Zealand, nurtured, trained and toned as the global Kiwi sports symbol — the silver fern logo was recently proposed to replace the national flag.‘Great win last night!’ The country rejoices, quiet satisfaction unites the hordes of black-clad supporters filing out after the game. Kiwi reserve and natural politeness keep the mob from overt gloating, but the yellow sweaters of the defeated Australians are treated with quiet disdain.My excitement at these great international clashes is recently acquired, and my grasp of the finer rules of the game is slender. <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/a-working-mothers-guilt/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Both sons</a> played at school, but I had been a neglectful ‘soccer Mum’ seldom on the sidelines. Sangjay captained the school First XV and even made the under-18 Victoria side for a precious few minutes before a knee injury had him carried off the field.With a twice broken nose and dislocated shoulder between them, the boys decided discretion was the better part of valour and retired before the terrors of college league games, lined up against the big guys from the Pacific Islands. That’s a relief for a mother, as the injuries get worse as the stakes rise.My early interest in international rugby centred on the post-match revelry in the busy bars of Edinburgh’s Rose Street that followed the Scottish internationals played at Murrayfield. Not that we actually ever got to watch the game, just shortcut straight to the pub parties afterwards, either celebrating a win or drowning a defeat. In the final year of my stifling Scottish school, dusty classrooms and echoing corridors behind the grim grey façade of George Square, I left with disappointing marks and a general impatience with what I perceived as an oppressive establishment.My dishevelled school friend Kate and I would rock up after weekend work at her family cafe, a groovy spot serving vegan delights and fresh chopped vegetables  from their farm along the Moray Firth. It still exists as a favourite Edinburgh eatery, upgraded to Henderson’s Salad Table and now run by the next generation or two. Kate and I were no doubt wearing miniskirts, deeply inappropriate for the chilly climate, or weird flared trousers fashionable in the 1960s, and unsuitable heels, lethal on the wet cobbles of Scotland’s gloomy capital city on a late Saturday night. We were relieved to be out of the constraints of navy school uniforms, crumpled white shirts and hideous burgundy striped ties.Kate’s counter-culture Mum was my first conscious contact with the Himalaya that became my home. She had returned from a Karma Cola spiritual quest to India with amoebic dysentery — wonderfully exotic and evocative in contrast to the predictable cold and flu afflictions of the dreary British north. It was not long afterwards that I finished school, graduated from the rugby pubs, found a way to break the oppressive bonds, and set off on my restless journey. It was a long circuitous quest that would eventually lead me to Nepal.Next month the 2019 Rugby World Cup kicks off in Japan, a six-week bonanza in which 20 nations battle for the coveted championship. New Zealand’s All Blacks are defending their reigning title, and supporters worldwide are preparing for the ultimate clash of the giants. Held every four years, this is the first time the tournament is being played in Asia, outside the traditional heartlands of rugby union. You can guess who I am supporting.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110814114/636a544d9c7e80680e0523a1jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="200">

The religion of rugby

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110814110/636a53049c7e80680e05232ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="800" height="534"/><figcaption>Bardia National Park 1994</figcaption></figure>“Mum, Mum, Sangjay’s been playing with a python.” Rinchen was hoping to get one up on his elder sibling, but he knew he had to come up with something pretty spectacular to get my attention.“That’s nice, darling.”<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/So-far-so-good/fire-in-the-afternoon-tiger-tops,846" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Tiger Tops</a>’ rustic ‘office’ had a thatched roof, wood rafters and mesh windows, and I was distracted by a guest relations manual update and tomorrow’s rooming list. I trusted my teenage boys to read jungle lore, and to know the difference between <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/hisss/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">harmless and dangerous snakes</a>.On a shelf above me, dusty glass jars of formaldehyde contained some of the more lethal varieties preserved for science: sinister yellow banded kraits and a lurid green pit viper. A deer barked in the distance and the cooks clattered in the adjacent kitchen.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/chitlang-chitwan-and-children/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Chitlan, Chitwan and children</a>, Lisa ChoegyalHe tried again: “And it wasn’t a very small one. Tim and Jack dared him to pick it up.” The four boys were just back from one of their elephant-back expeditions through the Chitwan grasslands, this time up the Surung Khola valley – an unruly quartet close in age and fast friends since infancy. Disturbed from its winter torpor, the python did not appear bothered by its rude manhandling and was soon safely restored back into its <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/So-far-so-good/back-to-Chitwan,1075" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Chitwan</a> freedom.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110814110/636a53079c7e80680e05232bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="528" height="747">My two sons were dragged up in the wake of my own enthusiasms Bardia National Park 1994<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110814110/636a53099c7e80680e05232cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="491" height="695">Tenzin and I trekking with the boys 1993I like to consider myself an exemplary parent, but probably all mothers think that. The truth is that my two sons were dragged into the wake of my own enthusiasms. Lucky their father seldom left home, as my selfish priorities may not have always featured family first. Our photo books support me in providing a peripatetic and sometimes idyllic childhood, but always to suit my travels, my schedule and my work in wildlife, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/in-conservation-nepal-is-not-out-of-the-woods-yet/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">conservation</a> and adventure.Two little boys posing in checked shirts on a Khumbu chorten, peering out of a tent on a remote terraced hillside with early morning peaks behind, bundled in life jackets hanging on through the white water, and embracing an <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/how-humans-can-live-with-wild-elephants/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">elephant</a> deep in the jungle grasslands. There were many years of birthday cakes for Tim Jack Sangjay or Rinchen, moulded out of elephant dung, elaborately iced and delivered by a decorated hati, a perennial delight with everyone valiantly keeping up the well-worn joke to please the grown-ups.Brought up in Kathmandu, our boys attended the British School until their early teens, both speak Nepali like natives, and both consider this Valley their home. As children they were forced to follow me on various missions – the picture albums show coconut throwing competitions in <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/recreating-tiger-tops-in-the-tropics/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Sabah</a>, canoeing in the back blocks of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/hanging-out-with-the-headhunters/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Sarawak</a>, volcano trekking in Indonesia, horse-riding in <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/so-far-so-good/wintering-in-mongolia/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Mongolia</a>, cycling in Vietnam, rock climbing in Kenya and abseiling in Wyoming. After a particularly arduous trek recce wading rivers and lost in the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/a-walk-back-in-time-chandragiri-hatiban/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Chandragiri hills</a>, Rinchen declared: “Never again, Mum.”<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110814110/636a530b9c7e80680e05232djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1024" height="768"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>One result of their upbringing was an early affinity with animals. Sangjay’s first spoken word was “hati”. Stopping for a break at the riverside village of Malekhu, its fish delicacies hung skewered ready for the barbecue at the shop front. “Doesn’t it hurt the fish?” asked Sangjay, aged three. I was stuck for a glib answer.He showed the same concern for a pig on the solid iron spit roasting over a pit of burning coals in front of the Lodge – a favourite for special celebrations that could take 24 hours to cook, laboriously turned by relays of men through the night.Rinchen’s self-possession served him well as a pageboy, aged two, at my brother’s wedding in Chelsea Old Church. Both boys made it down the aisle behind the beautiful bride in their purple silk Khampa chubas, white tights and ballet shoes (promising they’d look “just like Ninja Turtles”, when Sangjay aged four refused to put his on). But during the service Rinchen was last to remain standing alone in attendance behind the happy couple, all the other older bridesmaids and pageboys having fled back to their parents in the pews.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/the-eyes-of-truth/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The Eyes of Truth</a>, Lisa ChoegyalThere were the usual close shaves as toddlers. Sangjay tumbling down a flight of stairs, almost being swept into a flooded stream, crashing from the top steps of a slide, and falling backwards off a sofa through our sitting room window; the ensuing wound’s 12 stitches still show as a white scarred patch when his thick dark hair is cut short.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110814110/636a530e9c7e80680e05232ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="958" height="728"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Rinchen must have been less reckless as I recall few childhood mishaps, but instead a healthy curiosity and keen observation. Driving to school one morning a small voice from the back seat asked: “What are those dogs doing Mummy.”“Mating, darling,” I replied, with an attempt at insouciance. There was a long pause. “Looks like awfully hard work to me!”I can hardly bear to recollect the time they went missing at my mother’s home on that same British visit. (‘They’ll be absolutely safe playing out in the garden,’ she had said, never dreaming they would venture beyond the hawthorn hedges.) After an agonising half hour, they were found wandering near the main Oxford London railway line a couple of fields away. I was never sure I believed their story about a passing train driver who stopped for a friendly chat, as all the locomotives I saw hurtled past at horrifying speed.Probably the depth of my attempts at responsible motherhood was when I misplaced them in Christchurch Airport. Stopping to change planes after a trip exploring New Zealand’s West Coast, I was absorbed chatting with mountaineering friends when we noticed they were gone.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110814110/636a53119c7e80680e05232fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2816" height="2112"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>After a frantic search with thudding heart, we heard the humiliating announcement: “Would the mother of two small boys please collect them from lost property.” A kindly old Kiwi couple had found them on the sidewalk outside and handed them in.Rinchen had his own python encounter during a gap year job at a river running camp near Rishikesh, but it did not end so happily. Finding a python being burned by villagers mistakenly to protect their livestock, they reported this violation of an endangered species to the Indian wildlife authorities. Three of the team were arrested for their pains, and the poor snake died anyway.

A working mother’s guilt

Architecture can be a powerful agent of change, shaping not just spaces but the way people live, connect, and experience the world.&nbsp; For Nepal, which is <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/natures-fragile-gift-to-nepal">gifted by nature</a> and rich in <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/ambassador-fund-cultural-preservation-nepal,2092">cultural heritage</a>, &nbsp;reviving rural architecture with modern amenities could hold the key to more <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/what-sustainable-tourism-means-in-practice">sustainable tourism </a>that benefits local people more. “<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/bayalpata-hospital-in-nepal-wins-global-design-award">Design and architecture</a> are amazing tools to create a unique experience for visitors,” says Spanish architect Tomeu Esteva of Esteva i Esteva Architecture Studio. “Difficult destinations have beautiful hotels with design and comfort.” Esteva was in Kathmandu with his colleagues at an event organised by the Spanish Honorary Consulate at Dwarika’s Hotel last week to showcase buildings which Nepali architects can adapt with local material and design inputs.&nbsp; Rural architecture holds a unique significance: it is more than a shelter and must reflect <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/inking-an-idenity">local identity, culture</a> and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/saving-humla-from-heritage-loss">heritage</a>. An area’s natural and cultural harmony can be upset by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/protecting-protected-areas-from-infrastructure?fbclid=IwAR1wK0MDFlFST_2EYb3f54LS4-fPt6rYfLG1DJ1JaQsU3w8-ezyXIxGOqzk">poorly planned development</a>, speakers at the event said, but the environment can be improved and revitalised by well-integrated structures.&nbsp; Another Spanish architect, Belen Moneo, has designed hotels at elevations of 3,700m in her home country Spain that supply natural spring water spas. “<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/lost-in-reconstruction">Creativity in construction</a> must be encouraged. Rural architecture always shows possibilities of what we can do better,” Moneo explains, adding that designs must enhance <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/the-healing-power-of-nature">the beauty of nature</a> and give a natural feel at a time when steel, glass and cement dominate <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/rebuilding-kathmandu-after-the-1934-quake">urban design</a>.&nbsp; This is why the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/weaving-nature-into-craft">use of natural products</a> such as bamboo, local timber, straw and rammed earth are in demand from customers who want a fresh eco-friendly look encouraged in construction of rural architectural structures. The demand for boutique hotels has increased world over, with &nbsp;more and more tourists favouring aesthetics, experience and comfort over price. While creativity is an important part of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/architecture-for-mountains">construction and architecture</a>, incentives to build and use <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Building,370">rural construction materials</a> still remain minimal, and Moneo emphasises the significance of design and execution.&nbsp; Esteva helped design the Vana Retreat in Dehradun that kept the natural environment in focus, with the structure giving an elaborate aesthetic experience to visitors. Another example is Hotel Las Mercedes in the Dominican Republic which was designed and constructed by Moneo and the company she co-founded Moneo Brock, respecting and revaluing the traditional architecture of the area. Hotels providing such experience could attract tourists and revenue. The Spanish ambassador to Nepal Juan Antonio March Pujol said, “The role of architecture and architects in developing tourism is crucial, not only in urban areas but rural settings as well.”&nbsp; The concept of rural boutique hotels gained traction in Spain during the 1990s, particularly in regions like Majorca with economic and environmental sustainability as the main focus. In Nepal <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/12-full-opinion/guiding-nepal-s-tourism-industry">the tourism industry</a> directly employs about 1 million people, and makes up about 8% of the country’s GDP. In Nepal, the stone homes of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/reviving-himalayan-vulture-and-culture">Mustang and Manang</a>, bamboo and mud structures of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-tarai-s-shrinking-forests">the Tarai</a>, and the Kathmandu Valley’s terra cotta tile skylines, graceful temples, and tranquil bahal courtyards are all examples of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-traditional-seismic-resistant-designs">Nepal’s traditional architecture</a>.&nbsp; Nepali architect Sarosh Pradhan has been working for the past eight years on the Brakka Village project in Manang Valley north of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/municipalities-want-to-manage-annapurna">the Annapurnas</a>. Other examples of this kind of rural architecture for high-end tourism are the Shinta Mani Hotel in Mustang and Khumbu Lodge below <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/mt-everest-pvt-ltd">Mt Everest</a>. Says Pradhan, “There are places in Nepal that radiate purity and embrace simplicity. Creating projects in such settings require deep reflection and thoughtful planning.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250421030444_a07a23f6b60fa89c0f35b9dc1aaf19937da4881e6bfb2e1858f3c27dff91729f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_19" data-image-id="20250421030444_a07a23f6b60fa89c0f35b9dc1aaf19937da4881e6bfb2e1858f3c27dff91729f" data-rendition-name="original" width="4608" height="2184" loading="lazy" alt="A new architecture for Nepal's tourism"> </figure>  Rural architecture is not easy, and sometimes more expensive. Inflation, energy efficiency, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/those-who-stay">the climate crisis</a>, and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/cost-of-living-in-a-big-city">increased costs of living</a> pose obstacles to sustainable rural architecture. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/forgotten-international-starchitects-in-nepal">Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal</a>, Anne Feenstra and Varun S Bapu Esteva says faith and trust between client and architect is necessary for any project to be successful. He adds that architects must practice being humble, the process of designing always involves learning and not imposing their ideas on clients. Nepal is uniquely positioned for the growth of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/hiking-up-the-benefits-of-tourism">rural tourism</a> because of its stunning countryside as well as its internationally renowned traditions in holistic wellness. Creating infrastructure that is small, thoughtfully planned and that respects both tradition and contemporary hospitality standards is crucial. “Projects in Nepal can be made cost effective by using materials from houses that have been brought down,” says Esteva. “Pilot projects involving <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/local-government-by-the-people-for-the-people-of-the-people">local people </a>and simple designing also helps the process.” <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/vacant-homes-become-homestays-in-nepal">The growth of homestays in Nepal</a> is a step in the right direction, but they are still a bit too rustic for the international traveller who also wants comfort and is willing to pay extra for it. Upgrading the facilities in homestays and ensuring that the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/an-archive-of-nepali-heritage">architectural heritage</a> of the locality is preserved using locally sourced building material could allow owners to charge more. Says Sangita Shrestha of Dwarika’s Hotel, “Our effort is to build upon rural architecture by empowering local communities and using what is available locally. We can fine tune and encourage indigenous design and training.” The vision goes beyond just boosting the economy, it is about building a future where tourism helps villages grow in a healthy and lasting way. Instead of using up resources, it gives back to the land and the people. It supports local communities by<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/staying-in-nepal-to-create-jobs"> creating jobs</a>, improving infrastructure, and protecting natural beauty. When done right, tourism can be a tool for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/progress-and-or-preservation">preserving culture and nature</a>, not harming them. Architects must therefore see their work as more than just designing buildings, they also need to care deeply about people and places, especially in rural areas that can benefit the most.&nbsp; With global interest in sustainable and off-the-beaten-path travel increasing, Nepal stands at the cusp of a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/missing-out-on-nepal-s-tourism-potential">tourism transformation</a> that values community-driven, eco-conscious hospitality. A mix of modern ideas and traditional knowledge could transform rural tourism in Nepal. Says Shrestha, “Young architects should spend time with <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/latest/the-unsung-heroes-of-conservation">local and indigenous communities</a>, listen to their stories, and learn from their <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/life-and-livelihood-in-remote-nepal">ways of living</a>. These communities have deep knowledge about the land, materials, and climate. If this wisdom is used in new designs, it can help create tourism spaces that truly benefit everyone.” &nbsp;

A new architecture for Nepal's tourism

Extract from an addendum to Nepal's Two Wars, Chapter 2 in the updated edition of Essays on Nepal: Past and Present by Sam Cowan, a retired British Army general with a long association with the Gurkhas. The book was first published in 2018, and republished earlier this month by FinePrint exclusively on Amazon. The addendum details a one-to-one conversation the author had in the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=8884">Royal Palace </a>with the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=8371">King Gyanendra</a> in November 2002 just after he had taken his initial steps on the road that ultimately led to <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=14681">the abolition of the monarchy</a> in Nepal in 2008. In the early evening of September 16, 2002, in my role as Colonel Commandant of the Brigade of Gurkhas, I had my second and last official audience with King Gyanendra to give him an update on the Brigade’s activities over the previous 12 months. I had some 6 or 7 such audiences with <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/preserving-king-birendra-s-family-home">King Birendra</a>.&nbsp; These were official affairs with the British ambassador of the day present, along with key <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=12233">palace officials</a> and a representative from Nepal's Foreign Ministry. The two monarchs were very different in character and temperament, but both treated me with the utmost civility and made the audiences as relaxed and easy for me as possible.&nbsp; It is, however, worth recording that when the official business had been covered, King Birendra, with a twinkle in his eye, often ended by asking, “Now General, what’s the gossip in London?” The second audience with <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=8026">King Gyanendra </a>was my last official act in uniform. We came back to Kathmandu in the first week of November (after treks) to stay for a few nights with our Defence Attaché before heading back to the UK. Waiting for me was a message from the Palace saying that King Gyanendra would like to meet me informally: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=6933">no uniform</a> and no ambassador.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250421080420_f9046f9882d4481781d14f2b64f18c7fbbea62562e1d74e3465de6d01fb43750.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20250421080420_f9046f9882d4481781d14f2b64f18c7fbbea62562e1d74e3465de6d01fb43750" data-rendition-name="original" width="1750" height="2406" loading="lazy" alt="Gyanendra crowned page 1"> <figcaption>Nepali Times Special Edition of 6-14 June 2001 with enthronement of Gyanendra. </figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250421080424_21333d6ae21828eb47fe3f849438d215fe2804460d47bb2896ef4aee4e895ad2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250421080424_21333d6ae21828eb47fe3f849438d215fe2804460d47bb2896ef4aee4e895ad2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1857" loading="lazy" alt="Royal massacre"> <figcaption>Nepali Times 22-29 June 2001 covering the royal massacre after which Gyanendra became king. </figcaption> </figure>  Although I had no idea what the purpose of the meeting might be, events in Kathmandu since I last saw the king put me on edge. On October 4, 2002, Gyanendra had dismissed Prime Minister Sher Bahadur Deuba, allegedly for failing to hold <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/what-goes-on-in-nepal-s-elections">elections</a>. He had put in place a new prime minister and a cabinet personally selected by him. When I heard the news on my travels, the people I met were generally supportive of the king’s actions. There was a general view that something had to be done, the country was going nowhere, and the king deserved his chance, not least to solve<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/latest/14-years-after-conflict-no-closure-in-nepal"> the Maoist </a>problem. Back in Kathmandu, views were not so sanguine. The chosen prime minister, Lokendra Bahadur Chand, was a relic from <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/mob-movement-and-mayhem">the Panchayat period</a> whose party had failed to win a single seat in the last elections held in 1999. Some of the chosen cabinet ministers had, to put it mildly, dubious reputations, and others had no record of proven competence in any field. There was a fear that the king’s real motive in dismissing <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/deubas-denouement">Deuba</a> was to start to reverse the democratic gains made since 1990. I informed <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-britain-mark-centenary-of-1923-treaty">the British ambassador</a> about the invitation. He was strongly against accepting it, which was probably the clinching reason for my decision to do the polite thing and accept it. On the evening of November 7, 2002, I presented myself at the royal palace, alone and in civilian attire.&nbsp; As in the past, the Military Secretary, Major General Vivek Shah, met and escorted me into the presence of the monarch. This time, however, he was politely asked to leave the room and shut the door behind him. King Gyanendra greeted me warmly and invited me to sit down.&nbsp; Read also:<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-ghost-of-monarchy-returns-to-haunt-nepal"> The ghost of monarchy returns to haunt Nepal</a>, Shristi Karki  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250421080424_e382af945d0ad2a04ae41fabe5393f793dd10f54cb1220f111c7c9e7423eb558.jpg" data-media-id="editor_15" data-image-id="20250421080424_e382af945d0ad2a04ae41fabe5393f793dd10f54cb1220f111c7c9e7423eb558" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="993" loading="lazy" alt="Gyanendra coup"> <figcaption>Nepali Times 4-10 February 2005 after king Gyanendra's coup imposed media censorship. anendra became king. </figcaption> </figure>  I had wondered, and to be truthful, had worried, not just about the purpose of the meeting, but about how the conversation might start and develop. I reduced my resolve to two points: be polite but speak candidly. The latter resolve was quickly put to the test with the king’s opening words: “Sam, [in previous meetings it had been ‘General’, you walk the highways and byways of this land more than most, tell me what the common man is thinking?” &nbsp;“Your Majesty, I have no idea what they are thinking, but they are waiting.” “Waiting?” “Yes, Your Majesty, they are waiting to see whether what you did some weeks ago in appointing your own prime minister and cabinet ministers is going to make any difference to their lives or whether it is just going to be more Kathmandu hot air.” “Everything is going to be difficult and is going to take time, a lot of time.” “Your Majesty, time is the one thing you don’t have. You must act quickly and decisively to take advantage of the opportunity you have created. Everyone knows that you have appointed these new ministers. Why don’t you get them in here one by one and tell them that they have three months to deliver a programme in their area of responsibility that is going to make a difference to people’s lives? Most will fail to do so. Sack them! It will be a powerful signal of your strong intent to deliver real change.” I can express the opening of our conversation in this way because just about every word is still etched in my mind. The king’s response to my last quoted words was to challenge me to give an example of something that could be delivered quickly. I can give a verbatim record of what I said in response to this unexpected challenge: “Health posts, Your Majesty, there is no shortage of them throughout the country as building them has been one of the sources of local corruption, but very few have any medicine to issue at present or have skilled people to assess and meet medical needs. Your Majesty, children are dying for lack of a few pills. Given the right priority, over a period, say of six months, every health post could be fully stocked with medicine and manned with trained people. This is something I could help to lead for you as I know it would have strong international backing. At last, people would know that you mean business.” As I warmed to the theme, I could see no sign of the king having any enthusiasm for the idea, and I quickly disengaged as it dawned on me, as it had clearly dawned on the king, that the reason for the deficiencies in health posts was to prevent any Maoist combatant from gaining access to any <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/tech-away/nepal-s-health-tech-industry-is-here-to-stay">medical support</a>, and if this meant people suffering, so be it. The subject of the Maoist insurgency inevitably came up, and I took the opportunity to elaborate on what is written in the final four paragraphs of the article above. I advised King Gyanendra that, self-evidently, since there were three parties in the conflict—him, the Maoists, and the political parties—it was imperative that he form an alliance with one of them, preferably the political parties; otherwise, he would find himself isolated, as the other two parties would inevitably, at some stage, form their own alliance. However, it quickly became apparent that the king’s mind was on a totally different track. On the Maoists, he told me that he had channels open to them, but he was scathing about the political party leaders. He made it clear that they would be waiting for a very long time before he gave any power back to them, and that is a polite way of expressing the actual words he used, but “crawling through the door” is a phrase which has stuck in my mind.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250421080424_5403455ff6168f0d202a96cb53edea69136d74d59b989cfcc7cc4a1d57672cb5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_17" data-image-id="20250421080424_5403455ff6168f0d202a96cb53edea69136d74d59b989cfcc7cc4a1d57672cb5" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1317" loading="lazy" alt="fall of monarchy"> <figcaption>Nepali Times 28 April-3 May 2005 with cover image by Ajay Joshi of jubilant protesters after street demonstrations sidelined king Gyanendra, paving the way for a ceasfire and restoration of democracy. </figcaption> </figure>  As the conversation developed, it became ever clearer that King Gyanendra had decided to go in alone, relying on the misleading assurances he was constantly receiving from <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=14954">the army</a>, and no doubt his close advisers, that the Maoists could and would be quickly defeated militarily, and taken out of the equation. This would obviate the need for him to do any deal with the political parties.&nbsp; Thus, the way would be clear for him to establish a version of his father’s Panchayat system, under a constitution that would be granted to the people by him, their sovereign, as his father and brother had done in 1962 and 1990. As in those constitutions, ultimate power would have remained in the sovereign’s hands. This proposed direction of travel was very clear from what the king said to me. In sum, King Gyanendra was motivated by a desire to emulate his immediate predecessors by granting his people a constitution that would restore his father’s Panchayat system in a modern form and give him a central role in decision-making. What was particularly dispiriting was that beyond this single objective he had no plan worthy of the name, nor demonstrably did he have the people with the skills to implement an appropriate plan even if one had existed. Crucially and depressingly, there was little or no indication from the king that he realised that such a course of action could put Nepal’s monarchy into serious jeopardy, as indeed proved to be the case. <h2>King Twice</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250420110436_315d519fe3d68d2406ebe1480fed54720fbf21b8907a4da5cde751fdc623d445.jpg" data-media-id="editor_19" data-image-id="20250420110436_315d519fe3d68d2406ebe1480fed54720fbf21b8907a4da5cde751fdc623d445" data-rendition-name="original" width="1302" height="632" loading="lazy" alt="“Tell me what the common man is thinking!”"> </figure>  <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=8371">Gyanendra Bir Bikram Shah has been king twice</a>. In 1950 he was enthroned briefly as a child king (left, above) by the Rana Prime Minister Mohan Shumsher when his grandfather, King Tribhuvan, fled to exile in India. In 2001 he was crowned king again after the massacre in the royal palace in which his brother King Birendra and nine other members of his family were killed by Crown Prince Dipendra.&nbsp; During his second reign, Gyanendra gradually asserted power by sacking Prime Minister Sher Bahadur Deuba in 2002, and then taking full control after the 1 February 2005 coup. He was sidelined after the ceasefire in April 2006, and became a commoner after the Constituent Assembly finally <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/from-nepali-press/Ftnp-abolishing,624">abolished the monarchy in 2008</a>. In the past year, Gyanendra has tried to exploit public dissatisfaction with the political parties to restore the monarchy.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250421080432_26ef4a4b0e3cee9fdc6794446702efe16550d293904b4f6dd46fe35d4d10c788.jpg" data-media-id="editor_22" data-image-id="20250421080432_26ef4a4b0e3cee9fdc6794446702efe16550d293904b4f6dd46fe35d4d10c788" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Essays on Nepal by Sam Cowen"> </figure>

“Tell me what the common man is thinking!”

“It's Kathmandu.” Just as the family was sitting down for one of its extended lunches, that jubilant cry was from François Driard’s grandfather announcing the next posting for his diplomat parents.&nbsp; Driard (pictured) was 18 in the summer of 1996,<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/suburban-tales/chasing-a-nomad"> a bit of a hippie</a> already, and his life was about to change forever with the magical word “<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/time-capsule-of-kathmandu">Kathmandu</a>”. “I was awed with that information from my grandfather, nothing else mattered … In France <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/tales-of-courage-and-suffering-cx95f89e">in the 1990s</a>, Kathmandu had a mythical aura,” Driard recalls. He came to Kathmandu for Christmas that year to visit his stepfather, the French Ambassador Michel Lummaux. It was to be the first of many visits during school holidays, before he decided to permanently settle down in Nepal. “Kathmandu, and Nepal, were very different then, it was magical, I liked the nature, the people, civilisation, temples, trees,” says Driard, who explored the country sitting on the top of buses. “Visitors talk about the crazy <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/cost-of-living-in-a-big-city">urbanisation</a>, traffic jams today, and all that is true. But Kathmandu has not <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/loss-of-soul-and-soil">lost its soul</a>.” After his stepfather’s tenure in Nepal ended, Driard worked as a business reporter for international publications but decided he did not want to be anyone’s employee anymore. In 2007 he landed in Kathmandu with €20,000 in savings to invest.&nbsp; He knew a few crucial things about himself: he liked food and nature, which is very much tied up with his upbringing--full of lively conversations during lunch and dinner at the family table between <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepals-yak-cheese-is-on-world-map">abundant cheese, wine and cigars</a>. So he decided it would be cheese, and registered Himalayan French Cheese and went to the French Alps for a month to learn how to make Tomme de Savoie. “<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-story-of-langtang-cheese">Cheese making is such an ancient craft </a>and so I thought I won’t need much money or studying which I hated and indeed, if you have a tamako bhado and fire you are set,” explains Driard. But Nepal’s temperature and humidity were not ideal, even at higher altitudes. The first customers for his cheese were the Hyatt Regency and Nina and Hager. But he needed to create a market for cheese in a country which only knew hard churpi in the north and soft paneer in the south. He started selling his cheeses at the Summit Hotel weekend market, expanding to his own 1905 Farmer’s Market which later moved to Le Sherpa in Maharajganj, where it is now, and also a market at Labim Mall in Pulchok. He had cow dairies in Nuwakot and Dhulikhel, and finally a yak cheese unit at 3,379m in Ramechhap. It was the yak blue cheese from here that went on to win a Gold Medal in France, putting Nepal’s French cheese on the world map. “People come and try our cheese at the market, they ask questions. There is a lot of education to be done about cheese,” adds Driard, who also has three cheese shops in the Valley. Driard now makes 25 types of cheese. The products are being noticed and every year he has French students coming to Nepal to learn the art of yak cheese making. “In France, one family or company makes one kind of cheese for generations. In that I’m very unique as a cheese artisan,” he says. “The students come in to learn but I tell them to also teach us something too, add another cheese to my collection.” Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/langtang-after-10-years">Langtang after 10 years</a>, Sonia Awale Being a foodie, Driard is now also dabbling in meat with his own charcuterie at Meatini with bacon, ham, sausage and pâtés. All of this is now served at his Emilio’s Pizza, a leafy hideaway in Lazimpat. His South Side in Moksh is probably the smallest wine bar in the world. “I call the process sublime,” says Driard of his ventures, which have grown organically. “You need the same temperature and humidity of 12°C and 80% for cheese, meat and wine.” Emilio’s speciality is the eight-cheese pizza (which has eight types of cheeses), and a pizza with bhutan topping (not the country but fried intestines and organs Nepali-style). He has opened a small branch at Courtyard in Pokhara.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250426070456_bacae302c040dc18eeecdeafda72ddf06a6d2cec138ea9be7e45fe94cdf8b5b3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250426070456_bacae302c040dc18eeecdeafda72ddf06a6d2cec138ea9be7e45fe94cdf8b5b3" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="8 cheese pizza"> <figcaption>Eight-cheese pizza</figcaption> </figure>  With two artisanal cheese units, two farmers’ markets, a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-meat-of-the-story">meat processing unit</a>, a bakery, and wine bar he now envisions a vineyard so he can add Nepali wine to his repertoire. Another future plan is to start up an agri-tourism business where customers can drink, eat and work in peace. In the past 20 years in Nepal, Driard has not always succeeded in his ventures but this hasn’t curbed his enthusiasm. He is learning as he goes, and like an old wine, Nepal is growing on him. Its slowness suits his French art de vivre with eating slowly outdoors, having conversation, importing less.&nbsp; “I have proven that with even a little money you can do a lot of things in Nepal,” adds Driard. “In the West, they easily invest half a million euros on a cheese factory, I invested 10 times less.”&nbsp;

Fromage, vin et charcuterie Népalais

Bhuthan भुठान starts with Bishnu Bahadur KC played by <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/dhuwa-smoke-telefilm,2671">Hari Bansha Acharya</a> on a call, requesting to speak to the visa officer. By this point, he had <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-should-now-allow-visa-on-arrival">applied for a visa </a>to Bhutan 10 times, but was denied each time. KC was a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-women-excel-in-sports-in-2024-z9ramyct">national football player </a>in Bhutan in 1988 before he and other Nepali-speaking Lhotsampa people were forced out of the country in the 1990s as part of the Druk regime’s ‘One Nation One People’ campaign. Over 100,000 Bhutanese Nepalis were forced out, driven across India and dumped in Nepal where they lived in seven<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/elderly-left-in-bhutan-refugee-camp"> refugee camps</a> supervised by the United Nations and other charities until they were resettled in the United States, Australia, New Zealand and some European countries starting in 2007. In the fictional movie with the satirical English title The World’s Happiest Man, KC has resettled in the state of Ohio in the US but wishes to visit his home country once before he dies. Between flashbacks, we learn KC has died without having fulfilled his wish. &nbsp; The drama then focuses on KC’s two families from two marriages as they debate whether to cremate him as per <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/from-nepali-press/muslim-hindu,2996">Hindu rites </a>or give him a Christian burial. A mediator played by Hollywood actor Bruce Dern urges them to take a firm decision before it is too long.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250430140420_b398a08091b866da2b0b8f6c1e6e26781609749aba896bfd2c68a10a519295c3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250430140420_b398a08091b866da2b0b8f6c1e6e26781609749aba896bfd2c68a10a519295c3" data-rendition-name="original" width="945" height="945" loading="lazy" alt="Bhutan, the movie"> </figure>  There are drawn out scenes of KC being baptised and when he is confronted by his first wife from Darjeeling played by Anuradha Majumdar, he says he changed his religion in the hope that he will be <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/bhutan-s-refugees-between-hope-and-despair">allowed back in Bhutan</a>.&nbsp; We find out KC has a second wife, a Christian Nepali played by Puja Chand. Dayahang Rai as the younger son doesn’t have much screen time to flex his acting chops. &nbsp; Acharya competently portrays a man that is equal parts haunted by the memories of and longing for his home country. KC’s pain and loss is acute when he is teaching football to Gungun but between mid-scene, he freezes, perhaps lost in memories of being in Bhutan’s national team. &nbsp; In another scene, KC recalls his mother singing a lullaby in Dzongkha. He also has a box filled with medals, photographs and a football which he deflates with a knife in a powerful depiction of his <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/searching-for-a-homeland-away-from-home?fb_comment_id=1506516030025634">complicated emotions about his homeland</a>. KC keeps checking his mailbox in the hopes that his <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=4977">visa application</a> has been accepted. He says in Nepali: “If a tree that has already struck roots in one place is shifted to another, it will not survive.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250430140420_4a9c27410326489576c04dedf40016bda3825e8f9663317f54fbfec4cbda6d34.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20250430140420_4a9c27410326489576c04dedf40016bda3825e8f9663317f54fbfec4cbda6d34" data-rendition-name="original" width="1422" height="2048" loading="lazy" alt="Bhutan, the movie"> </figure>  Dern’s character says that the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/nepal-s-transitional-justice-and-the-west-s-recalibration">western world</a> has become “lonely in pursuit of happiness”, another reference to Bhutan’s obsession with its Gross National Happiness index. Scenes shift quickly throughout making the story difficult to follow at times. The use of symbolism is a trite overdone. Nonetheless, भुठान is a nuanced depiction of raw pain and agony of losing one’s homeland. But one cannot help but leave the theatre feeling deflated. KC dies without having visited <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/small-bhutan-dreams-big">Bhutan</a>, but perhaps he does in his afterlife. It is up to the audience to create its own ending to this sad story of exile. भुठान Mad Monkey Films, 2025 Directed by Binod Paudel 102 minutes In cinemas in Nepal

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