<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101120/636b712a9c7e80680e0600b9jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1109"/><figcaption>Photos: Arun S Rana</figcaption></figure>Few Nepalis know where Kamchatka is, and the ones who do probably heard about it from the board game ‘Risk’, where it is described as the remote region between Asia and North America.Kamchatka Krai, as it is known in Russia, is a land of active volcanoes and hundreds of thousands of pristine rivers that flow down to the Sea of Okhotsk. It teems with brown bears, salmon and trout.For a group of eight Nepalis brought together by their passion for fishing, this was paradise. In the past, they had explored Himalayan rivers in Nepal and India in <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=18700#.XileCP4zbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">pursuit of the iconic golden mahseer</a>. But overfishing, habitat loss and failures of conservation have led to massive depletion of this magnificent fish.Taking a roundabout route via Muscat and Moscow, the Nepali fishermen landed in Petropavlovsk-Kamchatsky Airport 43 hours after leaving Kathmandu.  Our guides for the trip, Andrey, Victor and Serge, and our cook Tanya, met us at the airport, and took us to a store to buy supplies – including a stock of vodka, an essential in Russia for warding off the cold.Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=18700#.XileCP4zbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Quest for gold</a>, Arun RanaWe had all bought waders in the hopes of fly fishing, but these were more useful as wind breakers. Despite the thick thermals we wore under them, we found it too cold to stand in the water of the Bystraya River for more than 15 minutes at a time. Meanwhile, the macho Russians bathed in the frigid water and walked around in t-shirts.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LMKiJOJXClI&amp;feature=youtu.beThere are six species of Pacific salmon, and all of them swim in the waters of Kamchatka. From June to October, different species run up the rivers at different times to spawn. Unlike our golden mahseer which also migrate upriver to spawn but return to the depths of our big rivers every year, a salmon spends its early life in the river and then enters the ocean where it grows into an adult. After two to five years, the salmon swims back up the river to the exact spot where it was born, to spawn and then die.The indigenous people of this region revere the salmon as a deity. Brown bears gorge on salmon and store the energy thus gained to sustain them through their winter hibernation. Rainbow trout, char and grayling feed on salmon eggs and decaying salmon flesh. What the bears and other fish do not consume decays and provides nutrition for the vegetation along the rivers.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/the-wellbeing-of-the-wilderness/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The wellbeing of the wilderness</a>, Mikel DunhamWhen we stepped into the Bystraya in mid-September, the last of the sockeye salmon were bright red and exhausted. Big silver spinners shimmering in the water imitated trout, and even as they gasped for life, the dying sockeyes bravely fought off predators to protect their eggs.The sight of thousands of juvenile salmon leaping joyously into the air was comforting. We slept well knowing that the sockeye had done their duty, and that millions of salmon would be swimming into the Sea of Okhotsk this year as they have for countless years.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101120/636b712d9c7e80680e0600bajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1109">Salmon undergo a drastic metamorphosis when they enter freshwater rivers from the ocean. Their bodies contort into humps and they develop beaks and gnarly teeth. Fish that are bright silver in the ocean turn red and green in the river, and are considered inedible. Only the silver salmon are eaten.On the first two days we could not hook a rainbow trout, until we discovered that they were taking pink flies. Up to 15 rainbow trout were then hooked before lunch, including a monster 24-incher that weighed 4.5 kg.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/dams-and-dreams-a-journey-down-the-karnali/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Dams and dreams a journey down the Karnali</a>, Ramesh BhushalAs we ventured into the Kamchatka wilderness, autumn had coloured the forest in yellow and red, interspersed with green. Every living thing was stocking up for winter. A dozen brown bears were fat from their salmon diet, and human beings too were storing salmon, cleaning hundreds of fish and packing them in beds of salt to preserve them through the winter. It is impossible not to develop a deep reverence for the salmon, and we all hoped that sustainable angling would win over commercial greed.Every evening we stopped rafting around five o’clock, and set up camp for the night. Our three guides used chainsaws to quickly cut logs for the fire, and before long Tanya had two pots on them, one for coffee and the other for borsht. Inside the dining-kitchen tent, she got on with other dishes – some of the tastiest meals we had ever eaten.Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/rafting-in-the-wild-west,3041" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Rivers of Nepal’s Wild West</a>, Yu Wei Liew<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101120/636b71309c7e80680e0600bbjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="480"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101120/636b71339c7e80680e0600bcjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="480"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101120/636b71369c7e80680e0600bdjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="427"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101120/636b71399c7e80680e0600bejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="427">Fresh caviar, straight out of the salmon gut, washed and lightly salted; fried salmon steak; baked rainbow trout; grayling sashimi; pumpernickel bread; pancakes and an assortment of chocolates for dessert. Generous shots of vodka, of course, to wash it all down. The organisation of the trip was meticulous and exemplary.We landed more than a hundred fish in five days, and learned that fish see in colour -- how else do you explain the trout’s preference for pink flies?  We learned that despite their rough exterior, Russians are mild-mannered, honest, hard-working people who look after their guests well.It is heartening to know that there are still a few magical, untouched places on this planet where human beings and nature coexist.  For us Nepalis, there was a parting wish that we could keep just one river in our own country flowing free and clean, and that we might set it aside to save the mighty golden masheer.Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=18383#.XilfcP4zbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Save our rivers from ourselves</a>, Megh AleArun S Rana is a fishing enthusiastshaivax@gmail.com

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Nepalis go salmon fishing in Kamchatka

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108101132/636a22999c7e80680e041799jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"/><figcaption>Dusky dolphins skimming past our boat in the turquoise waters off Kaikoura peninsula.</figcaption></figure>“Keep your eyes down once you are in the sea, remember the dolphins are in the water not in the air.” We nod mutely through our masks. “And keep singing in order to attract them – dolphins are playful and inquisitive, but no touching.”I am encased in a clinging black wet suit from head to toe including a dark hood that makes it hard to hear, as close as I’m likely come to looking like one of them. The boat is expertly positioned beside a pod of dusky dolphins and at the given signal we take a deep breath and clamber off the stern into the South Pacific ocean.The sun has crept up over the hazy horizon and the clouds over the distant mountain shoreline are threatening a summer shower. The shock of the cold is eclipsed by the surprise of finding myself amidst hundreds of sleek dolphins keen to frolic. These wondrous creatures circle and speed beneath me in lithe groups of two and three, streamlined black and white, passing close, and dazzling in their wild curiosity.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108101132/636a229d9c7e80680e04179ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1131"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>They leap, they spiral, they somersault, and if I lift my masked face I can see the dorsal fin above the translucent water but also the elegant pied curve normally hidden beneath the waves. Singing tunelessly into my snorkel as instructed, my voice falters and my stomach heaves with emotion, profound immersion in a primeval universe, eye contact with a wild dusky dolphin in the open ocean.<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.kaikoura.co.nz/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">New Zealand’s Kaikoura Peninsula</a> suffered a massive tectonic upheaval during the 7.8 earthquake in 2016 that ricocheted up the fractures of the South Island’s northeast, changing the coastal contours and up-thrusting the seabed by as much as two meters. Harbours, jetties, hotels, homes, roads and railways were displaced and damaged, and the reconstruction continues.The deep ocean trenches and submarine canyons lying off Kaikoura create uniquely sheltered and plankton-rich conditions that attract a wealth of resident and migrant sea life, notably congregations of southern hemisphere dolphins and several species of whales. Colonies of seals honk on the kelp-encrusted rocks, and a variety of albatross, those haunting seabirds with the world’s widest wingspan, skim and wheel close to shore.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108101132/636a229f9c7e80680e04179bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/So-far-so-good/the-hippie-era-in-kathmandu,837" target="_blank" rel="noopener">After a career showing tourists the mega-fauna of the Nepal </a>Himalaya and grappling with <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/image/Modi-is-back,1005" target="_blank" rel="noopener">wildlife conservation</a> concerns, I was interested to see the whale watching business that had transformed the sleepy village of Kaikoura and enriched its Maori owners. With almost-guaranteed sightings throughout the year, marine mammal viewing concessions at Kaikoura had long been cited by my Kiwi colleagues as one of the best examples of tourism and conservation – a serious local business but strictly controlled to protect the marine environment.The Kaikoura experience is so well established as a cornerstone of New Zealand tourism that after the earthquake, rather than miss the whales, dolphin, seal and albatross encounters on offer, visitors took long detours inland through rural farmland and across mountain passes until the coastal roads reopened.Taking a break from <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/So-far-so-good/bardiya-beginnings-Lisa-Choegyal,1085" target="_blank" rel="noopener">tigers</a> and <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/So-far-so-good/call-of-the-wild-lisa-choegyal,879" target="_blank" rel="noopener">rhinos</a>, I’ve always been fascinated by the freedom of marine mammals and the privilege of glimpsing them in their boundless natural habitat. Researching the Philippines ecotourism strategy, villagers showed us five different species of small whales and dolphin in one afternoon.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108101132/636a22a39c7e80680e04179cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1024" height="768"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>I have had semi-habituated dolphins darting between my legs whilst paddling in a remote Western Australian resort, and swum with sharks and stingrays in a Tahitian lagoon. The opportunities of whale shark tourism, those gentle filter-feeding leviathans and the planet’s largest fish, has turned fishing folk into conservationists throughout their range.I have spotted the huge bulk of a blue whale with a baby, the largest animal in existence, cruising just beneath the waves on her annual journey south to Antarctica. My most memorable moment was snorkelling with a young humpback in Tonga, in a deep bay off Vava’u where whales rest briefly during their annual migration - I was working on a South Pacific marketing plan. But that was all before the rapture of my hour with the Kaikoura dolphins.It is Christmas, the height of summer in New Zealand, but I feel miles away from holly, tinsel, decorated trees and the other trappings of our traditional celebrations. Christmas and summer are a strange coagulation for those of us used to the winter solstice and pagan traditions adapted to relieve the long, dark, cold months of the north.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108101132/636a22a59c7e80680e04179djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>I am still in a dolphin daze as we drive back past sunny roadside stands selling fresh crayfish. In the Marlborough valley delicate green tendrils of new vines brush our faces as we stroll the regimental lines of a vineyard, our bare feet enjoying the dawn dew of the mowed grass. Birdcalls fill the morning air, fantails fuss amongst the green borders, tuis streak through the flowering flax, and the promise of impervious sun drenches the coming day. Flying across Cook Strait, a shaft of light catches the white car ferry ploughing through the choppy furrows of the indigo sea, blotched navy by cloud reflections.“They really don’t know how to do Christmas properly here at all.” My originally Irish cousin Sal and I stand thigh deep in the turquoise shades of the South Pacific, the sky an aching blue, our skin zinging with salt. It is early in the New Year and New Zealand summer is in full swing.A neighbour entertains himself by painting a red sign for a makeshift driftwood bar on the empty beach, someone brings a tray of cool sparkling Kiwi wine to christen it, and our feet burn on the hot sand. Sal smiles: “But you get used to it.”

Lisa Choegyal

New Year in a New Zealand summer

Rivers have been the lifelines of civilisations with their dynamic ecosystems providing vital services for human survival and ecological balance through the ages.&nbsp; But accelerating anthropocentric footprints are causing severe, and often irreversible, damage to river systems across the world, including those across High Asia, a region that sustains nearly a fourth of the global population downstream. An example is the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/how-the-bagmati-civilisation-is-becoming-uncivilised" target="_blank">Bagmati River</a> that courses through Kathmandu, crosses the Himalayan foothills to join the Ganga in India. A river that once shaped the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/when-it-comes-to-water-pollution,3196" target="_blank">Kathmandu Valley Civilisation </a>is now a polluted and biologically dead water body constricted by urban sprawl, choked by construction debris, chemical waste and untreated sewage.&nbsp; The loss of a sacred river is tragic enough, but its hazards related to health, life and livelihoods are not limited to the Valley, nor is its enormity fully gauged by the metrics of fatality, income loss, flood return periods, runoffs, embankment failure.&nbsp; It is a systemic collapse of ecological integrity, socio-economic stability and cultural heritage, affecting its downstream users as well. The death of Bagmati is a peril for a population size way bigger than circa 5 million residents of Kathmandu Valley. The degradation started in the 1980s and has accelerated. Why has not enough been done to save this iconic river that runs through Nepal’s capital?&nbsp; The Bagmati River Basin Improvement Project (BRBIP) was designed to make headway in restoring the river with a sewage treatment plant, dams for storing water to support dry-season runoff, recharge groundwater, creation of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/resurrecting-bagmati-the-river" target="_blank">green biodiversity corridors</a> along the river bank to also serve as recreation areas, reduce the urban heat island effect, and also provide cultural continuity. The project also envisages collection of hydrological data for managing Bagmati multipurposewater systems and providing flood forecasts and early warnings aimed at protecting lives and property, among other things. Most importantly, the project takes the integrated water resource management approach, which, in principle, is a holistic and collaborative way of managing all elements of the water cycle to ensure water security, public and environmental health and amenity.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260329040336_9605240fa8c7d649ce49fbe43565130e3187e979338ccf959c4e9b8c581b7a4c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260329040336_9605240fa8c7d649ce49fbe43565130e3187e979338ccf959c4e9b8c581b7a4c" data-rendition-name="original" width="2126" height="1577" loading="lazy" alt="Bagmati NT"> </figure>  This should pave the way for managing a river as a connected ecological, social, and economic system by enabling coordination across agencies and disciplines, stimulating technological innovation and financial investment. The success of this approach depends on long-term political will and commitment that transcend political cycles, but also needs strong community and civil society in defining issues and proposing solutions, creating and sharing knowledge, taking independent action to inform practice, monitoring and evaluating policies, and participating in public decision-making. Civil society, especially, in making the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/encounter-with-bagmati-river" target="_blank">revival of the Bagmati River</a> a pressing governance issue. The Bagmati Action Plan 2009, a precursor to the BRBIP, was designed in response to lawsuits filed in 2000 and 2004 by an independent legal practitioner of Kathmandu against waste dumping in the river.&nbsp; It took him almost two decades of legal battle for Nepal’s Supreme Court to pass orders for mandatory septic tanks in all homes in Kathmandu Valley, relocation of squatters from Bagmati river banks to government-built houses, and embargo on dumping and burying garbage on the banks of the river and its tributaries. Despite court orders, however, actual results have been unsatisfactory. Restoration of Bagmati barely made it to any political debate or electoral manifesto this time. Treatment plants have not been operational for years, yet no one is held accountable. The population ignores waste segregation or single-use plastic rules to check littering.&nbsp; The current condition of the river therefore seems to have more to do with the lack of public awareness and behaviour change than the failure of various master plans. Why does the deep danger of a dead river fail to arouse widespread civil society concern, let alone action? The apathy is perhaps underlined by an innately anthropocentric understanding of the river as a mere resource to be exploited, rather than the backbone of existence.&nbsp; Such a paradigm shift is possible when river or river systems are understood to be necessary for &nbsp;a harmonious coexistence with human populations. The more pertinent question is not whether a dead river can be restored because there are many examples from around the world where that has been successfully achieved. It is whether we choose to restore our rivers for intergenerational equity. This would require a holistic perspective and political will to revive reverence for a river system so that its symbiotic relationship with human settlements can be restored. Roshni Gurung is Research Assistant, River Basins at the International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development (ICIMOD).

A lifeline becomes liability

As a direct fallout of the Israel-American war on Iran, Nepal on Monday nearly doubled the price of aviation fuel in a move that is going to impact during the spring peak tourism season. The steep price hike of jet fuel appears to have been made to cushion the impact on the general public. The price of petrol, diesel and cooking gas were also hiked for the third time in a month on Thursday.&nbsp; Aviation turbine fuel (ATF) will now cost $2,237/ton up from $1,207. The cost of ATF in Kathmandu was <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/sky-high-fuel-price-hits-nepal-s-tourism-airlines" target="_blank">already one of the highest among Asian airports</a>, and this price hike will affect mostly long-haul flights to Istanbul, Seoul and Narita for airlines that need to refuel in Kathmandu.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260404130420_4ae075d1e871fc5608cf242d6e309005d30cfdb6e6d0ecfb45ca7388a851c6aa.png" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260404130420_4ae075d1e871fc5608cf242d6e309005d30cfdb6e6d0ecfb45ca7388a851c6aa" data-rendition-name="original" width="1784" height="1294" loading="lazy" alt="aviation turbine fuel prices"> </figure>  Domestic airlines, which paid Rs127 per litre, will now have to pay Rs251 for their turboprop planes. “We have no recourse but to pass this on to passengers as a fuel surcharge,” said one executive of a domestic airline in Nepal. As it is, Nepal Oil Corporation levied a hefty tax on petrol and ATF in order to subsidise diesel and cooking gas. Many analysts were expecting a fuel price hike, but the near-doubling of the price of ATF means the new Nepal government is trying to protect ordinary citizens from raising the price of diesel and LPG even more than it has so far. Aviation fuel in Nepal is trucked in on tankers from Indian refineries and its price is highest in Kathmandu, and less in Bhairawa and Pokhara — transportation costs being higher depending on distance. But even in Bhairawa, ATF prices have doubled for the only international airline that serves it, Thai AirAsia.&nbsp; Most airlines flying Kathmandu from nearer airports in India, the Gulf and Southeast Asia will be less impacted because they can fly in on full tanks and need minimum refuelling in Kathmandu. But carriers like <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/high-cost-lays-aviation-low-in-nepal" target="_blank">Turkish Airlines</a>, Cathay Pacific, Korean Air, &nbsp;and Nepal Airlines which fly wide body aircraft on long-distance routes will be hit hardest.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026040305040_a40db74375ebe0c28e7c35477bc262df9ae392a84e7bfa4033996181d69e0209.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2026040305040_a40db74375ebe0c28e7c35477bc262df9ae392a84e7bfa4033996181d69e0209" data-rendition-name="original" width="1032" height="689" loading="lazy" alt="sky high prices"> </figure>  However, ATF costs have also been raised in regional airports like Hong Kong, India and Singapore. Aviation fuel at New Delhi airport has risen to $1,698/ton. Korean Air is adopting emergency measures to reduce expenses to make up for rising fuel costs. South Korea gets nearly all its fuel from the Gulf, and the blocking of the Strait of Hormuz has been especially damaging for the country. Fuel makes up more than a third of the operating cost of airlines, and even a small increase in ATF prices can make a big difference. Crude oil prices have increased 50% since the West Asia war began on 28 February, and global ATF prices have doubled.&nbsp; Airlines in Asia, including Nepal, face a double shock. The first is the higher fuel cost, and the second is that fewer people are travelling. Nepal’s tourism arrivals fell in March compared to February. India has added up to 20% fuel surcharge on domestic flights, and has reduced flights by 12%. Chinese airlines have also been affected, with China Eastern preparing for a significant impact of the Gulf war. It has added fuel surcharges to new tickets, as have Cathay Pacific, Thai International and Air Asia. Vietnam has drastically cut the number of domestic flights, and the Philippines will ration ATF. Australia imports 90% of its ATF mainly from China which has stopped export to ensure domestic supply to its own airlines. Carriers like Qantas have curtailed flights, changing aircraft type on long-haul routes, and a fuel surcharge of up to 20% have been added to tickets. Most Asian airlines are adding fuel charges only to new tickets, and the increase will not affect the price of pre-sold tickets issued for April and May.

Fuel price shock hits Nepal aviation

<a href="https://www.triarchypress.net/michael-thompson.html" target="_blank">Michael Thompson</a>, who died on 18 March after suffering a stroke a few weeks earlier, was a former Gurkha officer, mountaineer, and <a href="https://soscbaha.org/lecture-series/cultural-theory-and-clumsiness-some-lessons-from-nepal/" target="_blank">founding pillar of Cultural Theory</a>.&nbsp;
His daughter Ursula said it was a peaceful end, Mike himself had asked to be taken off medical support after doctors said they could do no more.
Together with his PhD adviser, the late Mary Douglas and fellow PhD student Steve Rayner of Oxford’s Institute for Science, Innovation and Society, Mike chose to generalise from years of anthropological work—unlike other social anthropologists—to filter out common traits of human behaviour across time and space, and then to apply that to modern society and its conflicts.
Cultural Theory has also been used to explain water and energy conflicts in Nepal and California, seat belt and pension fund battles in Europe, the underlying social dynamics of kibbutz in Israel, and what Mike liked to call “argumentative technology assessment” plus much more.&nbsp;
Unlike other ‘descriptive’ social sciences, Cultural Theory is ‘interpretive' in its orientation, which makes many in the ‘descriptive tradition’ rather uneasy with its ‘uncomfortable knowledge’.
A classic example is the massive almost six-year exercise that resulted in the multi-country, multi-author 4-volume study Human Choice and Climate Change led by Steve Rayner and Elizabeth Malone for the US Department of Energy and the Pacific North-West Lab.
It was, and perhaps still is, the first time that the social sciences looked seriously into climate change. However, its insights and conclusions were uncomfortable enough for it to be ignored, and only Mike Hulme of the Tyndall Center covered it as a chapter in his book Why We Disagree About Climate Change a dozen years later.
During my various lectures around the world, I myself have found younger scholars in China, India, South Asia, South-East Asia, Africa and Latin America much more welcoming and open about Cultural Theory interpretations than in Europe or America.
Mike liked to say that his own work on Cultural Theory was initially conceptualised while <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=3633" target="_blank">he was in Nepal climbing mountains</a>. He was part of the British expeditions on Annapurna’s South Face in 1970 and Everest Southwest Face in 1975.
Even while working on his PhD under Mary Douglas, which was published by Oxford University Press as Rubbish Theory: The Creation and Destruction of Value. Mary Douglas and others having done work on the Cultural Theory of everyday goods and consumption (including drinking), Mike’s Rubbish Theory showed how unwanted trash or scrap eventually became invaluable antique.&nbsp;
Unfortunately, OUP withdrew the book after its eminent economics professor-board member objected to the book showing the limitations of economics in explaining value.
When I asked his wife Anne why Mike was not republishing it, she said it was probably because he is practicing what he preaches, hoping to see if that book can transit from discarded ‘waste’ to achieve ‘antique value’. &nbsp;It did, and was being put up on Amazon for an astronomical sum until Pluto Press republished it.&nbsp;
In line with Cultural Theory, which examines and explains everyday life, Mike’s sociology of mountaineering expeditions was published in Diadem Books’ Mirrors in the Cliffs in 1983 as a hilarious but astute piece titled Sahibs and Sherpas.
I first met Mike in April 1986 at the now famous <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/in-memoriam-jack-d-ives-1931-2024-rqpsk7eh" target="_blank">Mohonk Mountain Conference</a> in upstate New York, the conference with most of the world’s eminent mountain experts which resulted in a major scientific paradigm shift – the debunking of the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=1211" target="_blank">Theory of Himalayan Degradation</a>.&nbsp;
It resulted in the book <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Sustainable-Mountain-Development-Getting-the-Facts-Right-Jack-D-Ives,946" target="_blank">Uncertainty on a Himalayan Scale</a> (with Warburton and Hatley), which was republished in 2007 by Himal book with a long updating foreword by Mike and me.
Our collaboration continued across many centres in the US and Europe starting with San Diego’s Western Behaviourial Sciences Institute in 1989/90 where I first met Mary Douglas and Steve Rayner (and became the first person in Nepal to tele-conference via landline phone connected to San Diego’s computer system).&nbsp;
We continued on to Battelle Pacific Northwest National Lab in Washington state that resulted in the monumental 4-volume Human Choice and Climate Change, and involved work with Oxford’s James Martin Institute for Science and Civilization, King’s College London, LOS Center in Bergen, places in Germany and very much at the <a href="https://iiasa.ac.at/options-magazine/summer-2022/people-profile-from-everest-to-systems-analysis" target="_blank">International Institute for Applied Systems Analysis (IIASA/Laxenburg)</a> since the early 1990s.&nbsp;
During forays to Europe and transits through London, I often stayed with Mike and Anne at their London Highbury-Islington house and later in Bath when he moved there. Incidentally, they had bought the London house rather cheap before its gentrification (their neighbour was a school where Tony Blair’s young children studied).
Between <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=4675" target="_blank">mountaineering </a>and Cultural Theory, Mike worked as a builder, and he single-handedly retrofitted their London home, which he later sold to buy a much bigger and better house in Bath with money to spare as retirement fund.
The idea of what was good versus bad development in the Himalaya from a perspective was further developed as an IIASA/Oxford Science and Society research resulting in our 2017 book Aid, Technology and Development: the Lessons from Nepal.&nbsp;
While he was in Nepal for that research, we did manage to get him to deliver a <a href="https://soscbaha.org/lecture-series/cultural-theory-and-clumsiness-some-lessons-%20from-nepal/" target="_blank">Social Science Baha</a> lecture on the book’s essence, <a href="https://soscbaha.org/lecture-series/cultural-theory-and-clumsiness-some-lessons-from-nepal/" target="_blank">Cultural Theory and Clumsiness: Some Lessons from Nepal</a>.&nbsp;
Sometimes our collective writings came from discussions in the strangest of ways and places. After a long meeting at the IIASA schloss, we ended up in a pub for beer, and the discussions were around what it would take for a city to be a force for good and not one bad for the environment.&nbsp;
If such a city could be designed, one could plonk it on the middle of a degraded landscape, which theoretically should then heal itself. Someone less inebriated obviously took notes and circulated it, which eventually resulted in the Engineering Sustainability paper On Governance for Re-engineering City Infrastructure.
Another time, I had to give a keynote presentation at an IIED/Sussex STEPs Center dialogue in London’s Goodenough College on re-imagining Development in LDCs. Following that talk, we sat down and produced our Restoring Development Dharma with Toad’s Eye Science.
Just before Covid struck, we (including Bruce Beck and Joanne Linnerooth-Bayer from IIASA) had been working on a Cultural Theory examination of four schools of engineering thought, our last meeting was at Steve Rayner’s Keeble College in Oxford as part of that exercise.&nbsp;
Its earlier efforts were explored in our work on transboundary risk management in the Himalaya at Bergen’s LOS Center and also dealt with in a chapter in EARTHSCAN’s IIASA publication Transboundary Risk Management edited by Joanne and others.&nbsp;
It argued that risk is socially constructed in four distinctly varied ways, where facts and values are entangled, leading to competing technological preferences. Mike desperately wanted to follow up on the Keeble meeting at IIASA, but – given the Covid fears already underway – Anne put her foot down and had him quarantined at home.
Our other on-going effort was, given that IIASA was founded during the Cold War as a place for scientists of the Euro-American West and the Communist East to work together to build confidence for peace, but after the collapse of the Berlin Wall that division (hence raison d’etre) no longer existed – to develop a global North-South axis for IIASA’s work.&nbsp;
We believed that was where the great challenges of tomorrow development debates as well as environmental concerns (including climate change) would play out. Towards that end, he was working with a range of Global South scholars and was very anxious to see if an IIASA-Nepal Social Science Baha/South Asia Institute for History and Philosophy collaboration could be developed.&nbsp;
Mike retained interest in Nepal’s developments up to his very end, even when on hospital bed, asking his daughter to find out from me what was going on with Nepal’s March elections that saw a seismic upheaval which decimated all the old political parties.&nbsp;
When Ursula described the gist to him, I am sure he was inwardly pleased that it vindicated Cultural Theory as Political Science’s contention that moral high ground activist egalitarianism not given proper place at the policy table can strike back at insensitive bureaucratic hierarchism and market individualism’s crony capitalism with swift and lethal vengeance.
Michael Thompson’s physical presence will be greatly missed, but his impact on interpretive social science – and its extremely relevant application to Nepal’s and other LDC’s developmental conflicts – will live on.
Dipak Gyawali is an energy economist with the Nepal Academy of Science and Technology (NAST). He is a former minister of water resources.&nbsp;
To listen to Michael Thomson’s lecture at Social Science Baha in 2011 <a href="https://soscbaha.org/lecture-series/cultural-theory-and-clumsiness-some-lessons-from-nepal/" target="_blank">click here.</a>

Michael Thompson, 89

Along with the Sherpa community, it is perhaps Kathmandu Valley’s Newāh Civilization that has been the most studied by anthropologists, architects, historians and social scientists.&nbsp; Tomes have been written about the built environment of the Valley’s former kingdoms, the influence of Indian culture, and how it in turn inspired the temples, monasteries and monuments in Tibet, through China right up to Korea and Japan. Lately, there has also been an attempt to recognise and preserve not just the brick and mortar landscape of Kathmandu, but also the intangible heritage of the Newāh people. A critical component of the ancient festivals in the streets, alleys and baha of the inner cities are ritual plays and dance. Gérard Toffin is a social anthropologist with the Centre d’Etudes Himalayennes at the Centre National de la Recherche Scientifique (CNRS) in France, and has been researching in the region since the early 1970s, focusing on Newāh society and especially its Jyapu farmers. Lately, his work has focused on indigenous theatrical performances, and how they are evolving with modern influences.&nbsp; RECORDING RITUALS The result of his study is this hefty ethnographic book, Newar Theatrical Performances: Religious, Royal and Comic Aspects, delving into sacred performances. This is the first-ever detailed documentation of the minutest aspects of traditional plays and holy ceremonies of Kathmandu Valley. This book is not for the package tourist on a quick walkabout of Patan, the details and terminology can be daunting even for natives to navigate. But this is what social science research is supposed to do – take a deep dive into cultures that we take for granted either because we are a part of it, or because we have never bothered to find out its meaning.&nbsp; Dance forms with mythological themes, masked processions, gestures, facial expressions of the performers, have all been passed down from one generation to the next, adhering to age-old codes. The world is moving at an accelerated pace because of TikTok-induced globalised connectivity, but traditional gender or caste dynamics and hierarchies are carried over intact in many of these performances. It is as if traditional theatre itself is a time capsule giving us a peep into the past. Some of the performances and dance are in danger of going extinct as the population ages and the young migrate out. However, there has been a cultural renaissance among the Newāh guthi overseeing these ritual plays, dances, or chariot processions. The next generation of apprentices are being trained. This pride in heritage means that Kathmandu Valley civilization is not as endangered as it may appear.&nbsp; Gérard Toffin’s book is an important ethnographic work that will help preserve the Nepal Valley’s unique blend of urban-rural, cosmopolitan-agricultural, Hindu-Buddhist, indigenous-national. The Tantric choreography of Newāh theatre, just as the kama sutra depictions on erotic temple art, show Indian influence, but Toffin says they have been ‘Newarized’.&nbsp; One example is the sexually-explicit shadow play staged every year since 1690 CE by Jhyalcha Guthi in Patan that exposes the infidelity of King Yog Narendra Malla. Toffin devotes a whole last section of his book to irreverent plays (khyalah) that ridiculed the rich and powerful, the royals and upper castes and their shenanigans.&nbsp; He examines the importance of comic relief at a time when death was ever-present in historic Kathmandu with its frequent epidemics. One cholera outbreak in 1885 is estimated to have killed 10,000 people – a fifth of Kathmandu’s population at the time.&nbsp; The Saparu festival in Kathmandu and Mataya in Patan memorialised through street processions those who had died the previous year – and this was institutionalised into Gai Jatra by King Pratap Malla in the 17th century to console his queen after their second son was killed by an elephant. Families were asked to file past the palace to show the queen that she was not the only one grieving.&nbsp; Pratap Malla also allowed clowns, burlesque plays, and satirists to make the queen laugh. The Rana and Shah regimes which suppressed free speech continued the Gai Jatra tradition to allow citizens to let off steam. Rulers were lampooned, and the performances involved scatological jokes, cross-dressing and lewd acts.&nbsp; Interestingly, the Nepal Bhasa word ‘pyakha’ means both ‘dance’ and ‘theatre’ (today also ‘cinema’, as Toffin notes) and so the performances were also a combination of ritual dance, traditional music and a stage play. Stories involve gods, goddesses and mythological characters, and are passed down through generations of performers. (See adjoining article on Pāhāñ Charey.) Street performances by masked dancers, like in the ‘Katti Pyakha’ in Patan, enact divine themes. The moving deities demand as much reverence as their static idols in the inner sanctum of temples. The book devotes a whole section to the importance of cultic masked dances where the performer is possessed by the spirit, and goes into a trembling trance.&nbsp; Some of this is now simplified and secularised into performances for tourists in hotels, but the genuine original masked dance troupes still parade down the streets, proving that ancient and modern are made to co-evolve in ways that only Kathmandu knows how.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260329140352_aace3ece2e2cc577aa478d83de4b34930e6ff9c088d5f5e3f02fa178d124a60d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260329140352_aace3ece2e2cc577aa478d83de4b34930e6ff9c088d5f5e3f02fa178d124a60d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Newa theatre book details NT"> </figure>

ocean

Nepalis go salmon fishing in Kamchatka

New Year in a New Zealand summer

A lifeline becomes liability

Fuel price shock hits Nepal aviation

Michael Thompson, 89

All the world’s a stage in Kathmandu