Only the most adventurous attempt to walk The Great Himalayan Trail (GHT), even fewer dare to run all of its 1,800km from one end of Nepal to another. And it is not just the horizontal distance – the trail is a vertical roller coaster from 1,500m to 5,600m. This week, 44 international and Nepali runners are joining The Great Himalayan Race that roughly follows the GHT in a 51-stage hyper-marathon that will take nearly two months.&nbsp; The Great Himalayan Race was first staged in 2017, and pushes the mind and body to absolute limits in a one of the hardest endurance tests in the world of sports.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240404120424_94dc99ebf4b70195fb6ac7bb062573d1716951321a49b9c223f6d9dad6e2a143.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20240404120424_94dc99ebf4b70195fb6ac7bb062573d1716951321a49b9c223f6d9dad6e2a143" data-rendition-name="original" width="5028" height="3360" loading="lazy" alt="Hurtling through the Himalaya"> <figcaption>Runners carry heavy backpacks in which they food, sleeping bags, medical equipment, and jackets</figcaption> </figure>  What makes this race special is that every step of the way, they will have sunset and sunrise views that transform the snow peaks into purple and gold. The runners will be passing sacred, isolated Himalayan valleys rich in heritage.&nbsp; The particpants arrived in Kathmandu this week, and will fly out to Nepalganj and Simikot and then on to Hilsa on the Nepal’s northwestern tip bordering China to start the race on 9 April. On Thursday morning, race director Bruno Poirier, a tall, grizzly man, was briefing the runners in his French accented English.&nbsp; “Be prepared to change plans if the unexpected happens,” Poirier tells them. “It is an individual sport, but we also need to look out for each other.”&nbsp; The split between Nepalis and foreigners is about half and half, and most are middle-aged. &nbsp;Lean and fit with striated, veiny calves, these are obviously serious runners. They sport a wide variety of headwear: hats, visors, bandanas, snoods. Visitors are in shorts, but most Nepalis are in jeans with colourful running shoes. Many don wrap-around sunglasses.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240404120440_fe54e48b226ed874d280ba37cfdf292543ecba60c32a90c3d102bd23c55a52e3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20240404120440_fe54e48b226ed874d280ba37cfdf292543ecba60c32a90c3d102bd23c55a52e3" data-rendition-name="original" width="909" height="542" loading="lazy" alt="Hurtling through the Himalaya"> <figcaption>Runners will follow the route, in red, west to east </figcaption> </figure>  There is no easing into this race. The first stage is 41km, virtually a marathon. From Hilsa at 3,650m, runners will climb to Nara Lagna at 4,580m, and drop back down to Taplung at 2,880m. The race will get as high as 5,694m at Ghami La in Mustang during Stage 15, on Day 22. Runners will get to Muktinath on Day 27, and Manang on Day 30, exactly halfway into the race. On Day 41, they will be at the Last Resort on the banks of the Bhote Kosi northeast of Kathmandu. On Day 60, Stage 51, they will finally reach Kanchenjunga Base Camp at 5,143m on 31 May if everything goes to plan.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240404120428_552ed7dba5b37ca1ff9a835c63e8c4d70fd8d5741727c1025963a4c3a14ba49a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20240404120428_552ed7dba5b37ca1ff9a835c63e8c4d70fd8d5741727c1025963a4c3a14ba49a" data-rendition-name="original" width="6016" height="4016" loading="lazy" alt="Hurtling through the Himalaya"> <figcaption>Runner in the 2017 Great Himalayan Race below Mt Jannu </figcaption> </figure>  Nervous excitement is palpable among the runners. The race will take them through 27 high passes in the Himalaya, most of them above 5,000m elevation. Weather up there can change dramatically and suddenly, and participants will have to improvise, take new routes and even find places to take shelter. Vincent Minier from France completed the race in 2017, and tells us: “It’s like parachuting. The first jump is always the scariest.”&nbsp; French organisers of the race have a slightly laissez-faire approach to safety, attests Jagan Timilsana, winner of the 2017 race. Which means they will get along with the happy-go-lucky Nepalis. &nbsp; Greek couple Lazaros Rigos and Asimina Inglezou say the reason they signed up was because of the history and the mystique of the Himalaya. Also in the cohort are accomplished Nepali long distance runners Upendra Sunuwar, Bhim Bahadur Gurung, and Sher Tharu. While Sunuwar and Gurung also took part in 2017, it is Tharu’s first attempt in the competition.&nbsp; “It’s a hard race but when you finish it, it is the best feeling in the world,” says Sunuwar.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240404120440_c43beb3814090c8a5a2cedad1fecc0ac2c621fd00415bc2f18272db73e50a014.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20240404120440_c43beb3814090c8a5a2cedad1fecc0ac2c621fd00415bc2f18272db73e50a014" data-rendition-name="original" width="4896" height="3672" loading="lazy" alt="Hurtling through the Himalaya"> <figcaption>Runners encounter numerous obstacles on their way</figcaption> </figure>  Swiss runner Jules-Henri Gabioud is in Nepal for the seventh time, and ran the race in 2017. He runs in the Alps and says the biggest difference is that the Himalaya is higher and rougher, the huts along the way do not have heating, and the food is basic. “I like dal-bhat but it can get a little monotonous,” he says.&nbsp; Lazaros Rigos from Greece agrees: “There are some ingredients missing: protein, vitamins and minerals. You have to supplement these, so your stamina holds up.” &nbsp; Rest and recovery after a gruelling stage consists of food, a wash, perhaps a couple beers, and good sleep. The runners also have to carry backpacks with sleeping bags, heavy jackets, meal packs, and first aid kits weighing upto 20kg throughout the race.&nbsp; Jagan Timilsina is from Sarangkot and won the 2017 race a whole 45-hours faster than anyone else. He now runs several businesses, including Himalayan Trail Running, and spends his summers teaching outdoor leadership in Alaska.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240404120448_00af08356dac7a6658eb66dca4d253409ab295a14d829cefa84f91b4ba782e9e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20240404120448_00af08356dac7a6658eb66dca4d253409ab295a14d829cefa84f91b4ba782e9e" data-rendition-name="original" width="6016" height="3418" loading="lazy" alt="Hurtling through the Himalaya"> <figcaption>A runner in the trans-Himalayan Humla region of Nepal where the race starts on 9 April</figcaption> </figure>  He tells us, “The physical part of the race in 2017 was manageable, but as a Nepali for me it was an opportunity to see the culture and the beauty of the untouched and remote Himalayan valleys.” In 1983, British cousins Richard and Adrian Crane ran across the Himalaya from east of Kanchenjunga to west of Nanga Parbat, taking 100 days. Forty years since, Nepal is capitalising on the growing interest in ultra-running and adventure sports worldwide. Timilsina is familiar with the challenges of organising a trail race, and says Nepal’s bureaucracy is the biggest hurdle for adventure sports like the Himalayan race.&nbsp; He adds: “Visitors need multiple permits from multiple committees. Policies regarding running tourism are outdated, and arduous to change.” &nbsp;

Vishad Raj Onta

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Hurtling through the Himalaya

Race against time

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141144/636baec19c7e80680e078013jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1598" height="1066"/><figcaption>Photo: Bignewskhabar</figcaption></figure>On 23 May, Angira Pasi, a 12-year-old Dalit girl, was found hanging after being forcibly married to a 25-year-old ‘upper-caste’ man who had raped her. On 24 May, Nabaraj BK, and his five friends were <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/they-killed-our-son-and-now-they-are-killing-justice/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/they-killed-our-son-and-now-they-are-killing-justice/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1595740698198000&amp;usg=AFQjCNGV8LnJ9KL669O-ysSlJa5RS8RLWw">beaten to death</a> and thrown into a river because Nabaraj dared to marry an ‘upper-caste’ Thakuri girl. On 25 May, a white policeman in Minneapolis in the United States kneeled on <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/we-all-yearn-to-breathe-free/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/we-all-yearn-to-breathe-free/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1595740698198000&amp;usg=AFQjCNG9CqanylI4D8SxH_uxFnbi9IE-7Q">George Floyd's</a> neck for 8 minutes 46 seconds, and killed him.Three crimes in three consecutive days. One of them set off a worldwide movement that is fundamentally changing race dynamics not just in the US but around the world. The two other crimes in Nepal were the latest in a long list of casteist atrocities across the subcontinent perpetrated against a traditionally excluded community.Millions continue to protest police brutality and deeply rooted systemic biases that unfairly and disproportionality affect black Americans. These protests have gathered up to 26 million participants, one of the highest turnout in any protest in US history. It has also generated more media coverage than any other protest in the last 50 years.However, in an unsurprising turn of events, the crimes against Dalit people, just as heinous, just as frequent, have received disproportionately less attention, and have not led to any real reform.The Rupandehi police refused to file Angira's case until it got national attention. They then detained her rapist Birendra, his mother, and aunt, but remain convinced Angira died by suicide.Rukum police have detained 34 suspects in Nabaraj BK's case. The Home Ministry's five-member probe team from Kathmandu investigating it has deemed it pre-meditated caste-based violence. Serious repercussions are yet to follow.A <a href="https://tbinternet.ohchr.org/Treaties/CEDAW/Shared%20Documents/NPL/INT_CEDAW_CSS_NPL_32516_E.pdf" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://tbinternet.ohchr.org/Treaties/CEDAW/Shared%2520Documents/NPL/INT_CEDAW_CSS_NPL_32516_E.pdf&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1595740698199000&amp;usg=AFQjCNHsgicz5UlUdsg6lK2azGeGlDwDMg">comprehensive report</a> by the Feminist Dalit Organisation (FEDO) and the International Dalit Solidarity Network (IDSN) shows the extent to which Dalits are marginalised in Nepali society.A staggering 42% of Dalits live below the poverty line, in comparison to the national average of 25%. The Dalit literacy rate of 52.4% falls short of the national literacy rate of 65.97%, with Dalits comprising only 1.6% of Nepalis with SLC and above, and 0.8% of Nepalis with a Bachelor’s degree.The picture is worse for Dalit women, who are discriminated against because of their caste and gender. Dalit women and girls comprise 21% of trafficking victims of Nepal. Dalit girls make up 62% of Nepali <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=3798#.XwyQcJMzY6A" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id%3D3798%23.XwyQcJMzY6A&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1595740698199000&amp;usg=AFQjCNHzsQA69rbsgXvvQE9icVEDpGVoVg">child marriages</a> under 15-years of age."While there are similarities between caste issues in Nepal and race in the US, it is important to recognise that there are distinct differences in terms of its origins and how it manifests in everyday life,” says Dalit rights activist Sarita Pariyar. “It is good to see some Nepali are taking interest in race questions, however, they need to ask themselves about their own role in the caste questions as well."Pariyar underlines the need to rethink relative privileges of other Nepalis and role in the persistence of caste-based injustices and inequities in Nepal. “This is important for reclaiming our humanity as well as just futures for all," she adds.Pradip Pariyar, social activist and chairperson of the SAMATA Foundation, adds: "Nepalis in the US are speaking up for black lives but are silent about Dalit lives because we have never had conversations about caste in our family, in our society."Although Dalits bear the brunt of casteism, ethnic discrimination also affects other marginalised communities in Nepal. Asked about this, all educated upper- and middle-class Nepalis interviewed for this article preferred to remain anonymous."My grandmother only wants a Bahun or Chhetri maid,” said one ‘upper-caste’ person in Kathmandu. Even though she is old and struggling with severe back pain, she would rather do all the work in her big house than hire a maid of another caste."Another adds, "My grandparents refused to put Dasain tike on my father's office staff because he is Teli Madhesi." A Sherpa student complained to her school about Losar not being a holiday, but was ignored.Pradip Pariyar argues that to tackle casteism, there must be representation. "Issues that affect Dalits are not even in the radar of non-Dalits,” he says. “I have talked to people who can stand up and bring change. Because they aren't Dalit, they aren't as concerned about these issues as they should be. This will continue if there is no representation."However, the picture is grim. Dalits, despite making up 13% of Nepal's population, have merely 8% representation in the Nepal’s Parliament and comprise a meagre 0.8% of Nepal's civil service. As long as Dalits are underrepresented, activists say, they will remain silenced and powerless, and continue to be discriminated against, oppressed, murdered, lynched, raped, and forgotten.Sarita Pariyar adds, "It is important to re-examine the idea and role of resources from within and outside of Nepal for inclusive development. In this, we need to have a genuine role of Dalits for ensuring effective distribution and use of resources."

Black lives matter but Dalit lives don't?

Everyone in the world is running some kind of race. Some chase recognition. Some chase money. Others run simply to stay ahead of others. But there are some who run for others. They are not trying to overtake anyone, they do not do it for fame, they are not getting paid to do it. But they run to pay for the upliftment of those less privileged. Bal Joshi, 41, is originally from Surkhet. His father was involved in the democratic movement during the days of absolute monarchy and he remembers frequent police searches of the house. And with his father in hiding, the young Joshi had to take care of the family. When the family’s small shop failed, his mother took the young Bal and his brother back to the village, and that is where he completed his education, walking four hours roundtrip every day between home and school. He ran most of the way, and without realising it he has been running ever since. Life was hard. Rent, food, education. His mother struggled constantly. There were days when there was no money even to buy kerosene for the stove. At one point, he sold his calculator, worth Rs 300, for just Rs 80 to get by.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251229031252_edb16b64a3d362a8dc86870bfa5deaad03a84e67d47f37cfd0bb5a8e584691fe.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251229031252_edb16b64a3d362a8dc86870bfa5deaad03a84e67d47f37cfd0bb5a8e584691fe" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Running for dear life NT"> </figure>  At 15, Joshi moved to Nepalganj to continue his education. He initially stayed with his uncles, but eventually began living on his own. The transition to city life was difficult, and he experienced significant economic hardship while trying to pursue his studies. There were times when he struggled to meet basic needs, and at one point he sold his calculator just to get by. When he was 17, after hearing that his father was seriously ill, Joshi travelled to Gujarat to bring him back home. His father died soon after, and Joshi took on responsibility for supporting his family. It was his mother who taught him that despite scarcity, life had to be lived with dignity. Joshi started working at a newspaper at the age of 16 as a proofreader, and later became a journalist. During the Maoist war when children were being orphaned as a result of violence by both sides, he became active in the Sahara Group, and at 19, he began managing an orphanage that took in conflict-affected children. In Bajhang, after the army killed a man on suspicion of being a Maoist, his wife jumped into the Seti River and ended her life. Their two children were taken into army custody. During the rescue process, Joshi met Sunaina Adhikari of the ICRC and back in Nepalganj they decided to get married. The conflict was still raging in western Nepal in 2005, when Joshi went to the United States. In Maryland, he initially worked at a Bengali-owned Subway outlet, spending long hours on his feet behind the counter. He changed jobs frequently, financing his education along the way, and ultimately graduated with a degree in finance in 2008. He joined Hancock Whitney Bank in Texas, and has risen up the ranks to be Senior Vice President. A colleague inspired him to run as a way to stay healthy. But it soon turned into something more meaningful — running more than a dozen 50km marathons for charity.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251229031252_165a6d935860cf6707178aa2ac7395733883158f425bbe0ebed125529d601f61.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251229031252_165a6d935860cf6707178aa2ac7395733883158f425bbe0ebed125529d601f61" data-rendition-name="original" width="999" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Running for dear life NT"> </figure>  Last year, Joshi returned to Nepal to run the Everest Marathon, and raised $42,000 which he donated to <a href="https://onestepfoundation.org/" target="_blank">One Step Foundation</a> which works on health care, child welfare and cultural preservation in Nepal and around the world. In June this year, Joshi and his family climbed Kilimanjaro, raising $19,000 for 80 HIV-affected orphaned children in Tanzania. During the Diwali festival he ran 220km in Nevada’s Red Canyon and raised $25,000 for cataract surgeries through the the <a href="https://www.theruitfoundation.org/" target="_blank">Ruit Foundation</a> in Nepal for cataract surgeries.&nbsp; Joshi does not run competitions, and is not trying to break any records. His motto is: “My race, my pace.”&nbsp; Turning his childhood scarcity into helping others, he says: “We all share sunlight, rain, air, and soil, nothing is truly just your own. I grew up without shoes, and I am fortunate to be able to distribute shoes to those who walk barefoot.” We ask Bal Joshi what (and where) next? His answer: the <a href="https://www.worldmarathonchallenge.com/" target="_blank">World Marathon Challenge</a> that will go around the world to run seven marathons in seven continents in seven days beginning in Antarctica at end-January.&nbsp; Joshi aims to run wearing the daura suruwal and Nepal’s flag as to show where he comes from, and how far in life he has come.

Running for dear life

A day after Rabi Lamichhane and Balen Shah <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/old-vs-new-in-nepal-in-2026-z6l4fgrd">came together to form an electoral alliance</a>, Kulman Ghising has also joined forces with the two leaders, merging his Ujyalo Nepal Party with the RSP.&nbsp; Following last-minute negotiations before Monday’s midnight deadline for parties to file their list of candidates for the Proportional Representation (PR) seats, Lamichhane and Ujyalo Nepal chair Anup Kumar Upadhyay signed a seven-point agreement to unify the two parties, with Balen Shah as witness.&nbsp; Per the deal, Ghising will be the vice-chair of the RSP, joining DP Aryal and Swarnim Wagle as the party’s seconds-in-command. The earlier agreement between Lamichhane and Shah retained Lamichhane as RSP chief, and promised Shah prime ministership if the party wins a majority in Parliament in March.&nbsp; Ghising’s team reportedly has a 17% share on the list of PR candidates filed by the RSP at the Election Commission. Balen has also fielded his own picks, and together the party has the likes of cricketer Gyandenra Malla, actress Reema Biswokarma, rights activist Mohna Ansari, climate activist Tashi Lhazom, and singer Prakash Saput as PR candidates. Ghising had held multiple rounds of talks with the RSP chair and the Kathmandu Mayor to discuss possible collaborations, but had failed to reach a power-sharing agreement. On Monday, Ghising had met with Lamichhane heeding a last-ditch effort from GenZ leaders, in particular Sudan Gurung, as they tried for the final time to get the interim Minister on board with Lamichhane and Shah before the PR list submission deadline.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025123004128_99e23ae7b6a042e71d271e3e74f7527086a7bb55779e6781bc9e7b711c8303e7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2025123004128_99e23ae7b6a042e71d271e3e74f7527086a7bb55779e6781bc9e7b711c8303e7" data-rendition-name="original" width="1595" height="1087" loading="lazy" alt="Sudan Kulman Balen"> <figcaption>Photo: SUDAN GURUNG / FACEBOOK</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025123004128_d9f530704ab4c6e27eebf51f8e9fb55fed1d4281c99d089d06455cc7448bfda7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2025123004128_d9f530704ab4c6e27eebf51f8e9fb55fed1d4281c99d089d06455cc7448bfda7" data-rendition-name="original" width="1026" height="1084" loading="lazy" alt="Balen and Sudan NT"> <figcaption>Photo: BALEN SHAH / FACEBOOK</figcaption> </figure>  The three are now set to make a formidable team to challenge mainstream parties at the polls. News of this alliance has been welcome to Nepalis who are looking for any alternatives to break the stronghold of the Oli-Deuba-Dahal trio over Nepali politics in recent history.&nbsp; But they will also carry each other’s baggage.&nbsp; Lamichhane, who was jailed for defrauding cooperatives depositors last year, was welcomed back as RSP party chair with open arms after he was released on bail last week. And while he has maintained his base of loyal supporters, he was subject to widespread criticism after he walked out of detention amid the jailbreak during the September protests, prompting his eventual voluntary return to prison.&nbsp; His party’s silencing and expulsion of critics within the RSP has also drawn direct comparison with the leadership structure of Nepal’s mainstream parties. Prominent leaders like Sumana Shrestha have left the party over disagreements with leadership.&nbsp; Meanwhile, Balen’s impassioned campaign resonated with Nepalis disillusioned with establishment leaders during the 2022 election and made him mayor of Kathmandu. The mayor’s direct, no-holds-barred style of communication and commentary has attained him much support beyond his constituency.&nbsp; But his unyielding, often unempathetic leadership style and policies— like his dismissal of street vendors and informal businesses during his drive to free up Kathmandu’s footpaths— have also earned him detractors. His recent outburst on social media in November that included expletives against both of Nepal’s neighbours and the US, as well as Nepal’s three main parties and the RSP was also widely criticised.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251230041212_fc2088daf32bac93541ebf25ca07725d75a721ae83440749ac8fa09d8fe308f2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251230041212_fc2088daf32bac93541ebf25ca07725d75a721ae83440749ac8fa09d8fe308f2" data-rendition-name="original" width="890" height="1255" loading="lazy" alt="Agreement NT"> <figcaption>The seven-point agreement between RSP and Ujyalo Nepal Party.</figcaption> </figure>  Ghising, credited with ending Nepal’s prolonged load-shedding during his tenure as the chief of Nepal Electricity Authority, has a reputation of getting the job done. His public goodwill earned him a seat on Prime Minister Sushila Karki’s interim Cabinet following the youth protest.&nbsp; But he has also been under scrutiny for funds misappropriation as well as controversial power purchase agreements during his tenure as NEA chief. Ghising had foregone the leadership position at his Ujyalo party, preferring to play the role of patron until closer to the election date, but was nonetheless criticised for his political and electoral aspirations while being a member of the transitional government. It now remains to be seen if and when Ghising will step away from his position in the interim Cabinet and begin campaigning with his new partners.&nbsp; As it stands, the involvement of prominent GenZ figures in bringing together Ghising, Shah, and Lamichhane has established youth leaders as major players in Nepal’s post-September political landscape. These leaders will have significant pull with young and first-time voters. But not all young leaders are impressed with this new triumvirate. Some have pointed out that the unity between these three leaders is no different from the political opportunism and quid-pro-quo power-sharing culture established and followed by Nepal’s mainstream leadership for the last three decades which culminated into the GenZ movement of September.

Kulman follows Balen to RSP

Koreana Coffee Guff begins with a scene where Narayan Wagle, the editor-turned-farmer, appears in reverse cameo, as a character in a novel. He has just landed at Incheon in the dead of winter.&nbsp; The opening premise reminds one of Tolstoy’s saying about how stories begin either when someone goes on a journey, or when a stranger comes to town. ‘The winds of each city are its original inheritance, shaped by its local language, its specific topography and the buffets of the airborne wings of birds and airplanes,’ Wagle writes.&nbsp; The author is both on a journey and a stranger to the town. The word ‘stranger’ might need to be redefined here, as he has visited Korea several times before. But if every journey is new, then he is a stranger of sorts — stranger to the people he meets for the first time in the book, stranger to the reader who will encounter him for the first time like I did in high school reading the English translation of his 2005 Madan Puraskar winning novel Palpasa Cafe.&nbsp; Koreana is non-fiction, and was first published in 2017 in Nepali, and recently rendered into English by Prawin Adhikari, who specialises in translating Nepali works into English in such a way that they do not read like translations at all.&nbsp; Even so, I turned to a few chapters from the original text, curious to see how ideas have morphed. Take Wagle’s journey to Ansan Mountain. It is the same mountain, but something different happens in the two languages. The inexplicable feeling is that the translation has to conquer the mountain itself. At its best, the book gives the reader a peek into Wagle’s mind, his internal monologues, his writing ideas, his thoughts on the people around him, his deep yearning and respect for nature, his exploration of Seoul and Korea, where he is attending the Asian Literary Creative Writing Workshop in 2017.&nbsp; BACK TO THE LAND ‘All cities appear the same everywhere,’ he writes of Seoul, speaking of how ‘development’ has masked the original charm of a city rebuilt after war. In recent years, Wagle has moved on from being the editor of Kantipur, to activism, and has now returned to his ancestral land in Tanahu to farm.&nbsp; Clues to this metamorphosis can be detected in this book, which was written nearly ten years ago and before his transition. Wagle used to write a column called Coffee Guff, and the book carries that conversational style.&nbsp; But not all monologues land. Thoughts rooted in a specific time and space like the hike to Ansan where the author reflects on buildings, birds, and trees feel connected with a context and background. Then there are those that bring in a new metaphor, a new reflection, a new connection in almost each new sentence which make it difficult to follow the author’s stream of consciousness.&nbsp; Halfway into the book, we finally meet the writers who have come from different parts of Asia for the workshop. Not speaking a common language, the writers have to rely on interpreters and Google, which turns their exchanges into quirky moments of laughter.&nbsp; Writers are an important part of the book, the lens through which Wagle invites us to see the world. Poets Manjul from Nepal and Shiva Ryu from Korea make guest appearances. Through two Korean writers who share the surname Kim, we get a glimpse into Korean history and society, and how writing is intertwined with politics.&nbsp; This Korea is different from the Kpop idols and skincare routine that has dominated recent imagination of the divided peninsular nation. Wagle writes, ‘Literature attempts to unite, politics impedes it. They are being continuously thwarted by the conflicts ongoing in the nation’s politics.’&nbsp; One of the Kims is Kim Min-jung (김민정), author of The World’s Most Expensive Novel, that explores what it means to be a writer in Korea.&nbsp; Reading Koreana feels like a hike through a jungle. If one is able to move past the tangled and stretched monologues, the book can hold moments of awe and wonder. But there is always a desire for a clearer trail to follow. &nbsp;&nbsp; Narayan Wagle’s characteristic witticism is there aplenty, his observations are astute. Writers exploring their craft and readers curious of what is churning inside Wagle’s mind will find treats -- sometimes well-crafted, other times to be searched between the lines. &nbsp; Alfa M Shakya is a writer, researcher, and podcaster. She runs and hosts ‘How’d You Create That?’, an art podcast about the creative process.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251230071252_5503c9fb08d62adb328d8f817b353604429559d3d9c6542edf3663c3f8c554e5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251230071252_5503c9fb08d62adb328d8f817b353604429559d3d9c6542edf3663c3f8c554e5" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Korean coffee guff English translation review"> </figure>

Coffee guff from Korea

From stone spouts to cast-iron mains, Nepal’s water system and its struggle to provide safe water tells a larger story of power, disease, dependency — and lessons for the future. From 1823 to 1891, the Nepali state made just two notable interventions in Kathmandu’s drinking water system. The first was when Prime Minister Bhimsen Thapa commissioned a stone pout (hiti) to tap groundwater within the valley’s traditional supply system. The second came nearly 70 years later with Nepal’s first industrial-era water system, the Bir Water Works in 1891 under Prime Minister Bir Shumsher Rana. Linking these two milestones was the spectre of cholera. From the 19th century on there were seven global cholera pandemics. <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0264410X19309995#bb0325" target="_blank">Originating in Asia</a>, the disease reached Europe and the Americas, the Vibrio cholera bacillus breeding in poor sanitation wherever it found it. The first wave erupted in 1817, followed by others in 1829, 1852, 1863, 1881, 1889 and, finally, in 1961, the seventh pandemic which still lingers on. London, the epicentre of the Industrial Revolution, was repeatedly stricken. In Britain ‘miasma’ foul air was blamed. &nbsp;In Nepal, cholera was seen as divine damnation. By the late 19th century, as Nepal’s relationship with Britain deepened, the Bir Water Works was inaugurated in 1891 as a defence against cholera. Whether cholera also shaped Bhimsen Thapa’s decision in 1823 is less clear. Contemporary records note the commissioning of Sundhara, but do not refer to the cholera epidemic raging at the time. The silence itself is telling: Nepal’s elites were ruling in the shadow of the disease. Bhimsen Thapa first resided in Thapathali Palace, which was built in 1802 by Nain Singh Thapa, father of Mathabarsingh Thapa, who would briefly become prime minister in the 1840s. In 1806, Bhimsen Thapa moved to Bagh Durbar, a new complex on the western edge of Tundikhel. Historians are vague about the water supply in the residences of the nobility, but wells and water hauled from rivers, ponds, canals, and other sources were likely the primary sources. A small hiti north of Bagh Durbar, near today’s Sun Dhara, may have supplied the palace. In 1823, Bhimsen Thapa had it enlarged, making it the last and largest state-built hiti in Kathmandu. Even as Bhimsen Thapa was involved in palace intrigues and border conflicts, Britain was engineering pipelines. By the late 18th century, Sir Thomas Simpson had invented the bell-and-spigot joint, making long-distance pipes viable. Fluid dynamics, dealing with pumps, pipes, and filters, was becoming a foundational discipline. In Kathmandu, the scourge continued. Cholera struck Kathmandu repeatedly, in 1862, 1867, 1872, 1874 and 1875. The 1872 epidemic, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/kathmandu-in-the-time-of-cholera" target="_blank">according to historian Tom Robertson</a>, claimed between 200 and 250 lives a day. On average, cholera killed between 1,200 and 1,500 people annually in Kathmandu Valley, an enormous toll for its small population. The summer of 1885 was especially calamitous: a cholera epidemic ravaged Kathmandu and its periphery from the beginning of June until late August. The disease even breached the royal palace, reportedly killing 23 people, mostly young girls. Records show that 909 people received treatment at the British Residency dispensary, and estimates suggest that as many as 10,000 people perished in a city of 50,000. In November that year, Bir Shumsher seized power in a coup. He inherited not only a premiership but a Valley ridden with disease. Cholera was endemic, and it was accompanied by typhoid, smallpox, goitre, syphilis, and chronic dyspepsia. The The British Residency dispensary at Lainchaur was inadequate. “In a poor country like ours, wealth means health,” Bir Shumsher remarked, an unusually pragmatic admission that epidemics were not divine punishment but structural afflictions of urban life. He soon pledged to expand health care. In 1889, he opened Bir Hospital and staffed it with Indian doctors to treat cholera, typhoid, smallpox, and other prevalent illnesses. PIPED WATER Bir Shumsher also recognised the need for safe drinking water. Between 1866 and 1872, he had served as Nepal’s ambassador in Calcutta, and he must have seen water mains already in operation there, and a filtration plant inaugurated in 1870. Madras had installed such a system as early as 1800, Bombay constructed the Vihar and Tulsi reservoirs in the mid-19th century. In Kathmandu British Residency personalities such as George Gimlette must have urged Bir’s government to quicken the construction of the hospital and water system, yet the archival traces of such exchanges still await historical scrutiny. By the late 19th century, the British had developed a technological ecosystem for water supply, intakes, pipes, fittings, reservoirs, and trained engineers. Bir Shumsher appealed to the British Government in India for engineering assistance. A British engineer named Mr Feigneur surveyed Kathmandu to prepare maps, and estimated the volume of water that could be brought from the Rudramati River. In 1889, a more experienced engineer, Lockhart Matthew Sinclair arrived. He was a Scotsman educated at Wellington College and the Royal Indian Engineering College, with prior experience in constructing waterworks in Jubbulpore and the Viceregal Palace in Shimla. Appointed State Engineer of Nepal (1889–1892), Sinclair reviewed Feigneur’s plans, updated them, and chose the Bishnumati River as the source of the city’s drinking water. Sinclair’s design included a reservoir at Panipokhari, at 1,330m elevation and 30m above &nbsp;Tundikhel, thereby enabling gravity-fed distribution in pipes. With a capacity of 7,327 cubic metres, the reservoir could store nine days of supply.&nbsp; The system was designed to serve about 70,000 residents through both private connections and public standpipes. The reservoir was a single-compartment tank with an arched brick roof covered in earth and turf. Its brick walls were bonded with lime mortar and aggregate, and its floor was dressed with fly stone. Work on the valley’s water supply began in 1888, three years after Bir Shumsher seized power. The following year, Bir Hospital and the Bir Water Works took shape. The project involved some 40km of imported cast-iron pipes, weighing 1.866 million kg and inscribed with the marks of Scottish foundries ‘Ally and McLean’ and ‘Glasgow’. Construction required 620,000 man-days of labour and cost over Rs600,000. Transport costs inflated prices: <a href="https://commons-nepal.com/the-first-kaldhara-in-the-four-cities-of-the-valley/" target="_blank">a load of cement</a> costing Rs10 in Calcutta was worth Rs33 by the time it reached Kathmandu. Bir Water Works was inaugurated in September 1891, six years after the cholera epidemic. Water flowed out of 131 taps, including eight in Lainchaur, six in the royal palace, eleven in the prime minister’s palace, sixteen around Tundikhel, thirteen in Thapathali, seven in Thamel, and two in Naxal. The system’s designation, the term ‘works’ , echoes the Chelsea, Calcutta, and Glasgow Water Works, underlining its industrial pedigree. Water was also supplied to Phora Durbar, Bir Shumsher’s palace of music and dance whose fountains sprayed rose-scented water in a display of opulence. The <a href="https://commons-nepal.com/the-first-kaldhara-in-" target="_blank">Bir Dhara Works</a> was more than an engineering scheme: it was Nepal’s first modern public-health intervention. Safer drinking water curbed waterborne disease, and the number of cholera outbreaks declined, but were not eliminated.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260103020144_d5c22de54c0eaab680a166c5a7482839fdc09b60679109021d0504252a810254.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260103020144_d5c22de54c0eaab680a166c5a7482839fdc09b60679109021d0504252a810254" data-rendition-name="original" width="865" height="535" loading="lazy" alt="Cholera and drinking water in Kathmandu"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260103020144_a46075b6d759585df56a2bb8e5a07d85de7d9a69406165c32784fe30012c9971.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20260103020144_a46075b6d759585df56a2bb8e5a07d85de7d9a69406165c32784fe30012c9971" data-rendition-name="original" width="2791" height="3859" loading="lazy" alt="Cholera and drinking water in Kathmandu"> </figure>  “Now we have water to fight cholera, and I believe cholera will no longer prevail. After four years of piped water, the benefits have been greater than expected,” Bir Shumsher said in a proclamation. Despite this, the prevalence of poor sanitation, open defecation, cramped housing, and malnutrition meant that typhoid, smallpox, and dyspepsia remained endemic. The Bir Dhara system marked Kathmandu’s transition from reliance on wells, rivers, springs, and hiti to piped water, operating for several decades and laying the foundation for the expansion of drinking water services across the country in the late twentieth century. <a href="https://commons-nepal.com/the-first-kaldhara-in-the-four-cities-of-the-valley/" target="_blank">Extensions followed in Patan</a> under Chandra Shumsher, and Bhim Shumsher later added the Tri Bhim Dhara. Piped water systems were subsequently constructed in towns such as Kirtipur, Bhaktapur, Dhankuta, Pokhara, Dhulikhel, and Jajarkot which itself saw a deadly cholera outbreak in 2009.&nbsp; CHOLERA METAPHOR In 1933, Nepal’s first water bureaucracy, the Pani Goswara, was established, formalising state involvement in urban water supply. Yet even till the late 20th century, households continue to rely on a mix of sources, including public water networks, private vendors, rooftop storage tanks, borewells, wells, hiti, and household filtration. The lack of reliable water supply places disproportionate financial, physical, and psychological burdens on low-income households, underscoring how decades of infrastructure expansion have not translated into universal, reliable service. during challenges in governance, investment priorities, and regulation. Bir Shumsher also attempted to introduce <a href="https://www.ukaalo.com/news/cholera-in-kathmandu-1958/" target="_blank">basic hygiene measures</a>, such as pit latrines with squatting slabs. However, there is no record of these facilities being built in his palaces, later built palaces, or elsewhere. Sanitation conditions remained poor for both the elite and the general population. Open defecation or the use of crude pit latrines without proper waste disposal was common. With no drainage or sewer systems, human waste accumulated near homes, contributing to the spread of waterborne diseases. In 2019, Nepal declared itself ‘open defecation free’, a policy milestone, but this achievement masks the persistence of deeper problems. Urban areas generate some 867 million litres of wastewater daily, yet only 7% of it is treated before being discharged. Sewage flows untreated into rivers and streams, spreading cholera, typhoid, dysentery, and other diseases, particularly among children and vulnerable communities. Safe disposal of faecal sludge continues to be a major struggle for many communities and local governments. Besides Jajarkot, Godavari in Kathmandu Valley had a localised outbreak in 2024. This year, Birganj was struck by a cholera outbreak caused by a lethal combination of unreliable water supply, groundwater overpumping, poor drainage and hygiene, and unsafe waste disposal. And Nepal’s peacekeepers deployed after the earthquake in Haiti in 2010 were blamed for spreading cholera that ultimately killed 30,000 people in the Caribbean nation. The Bir Water Works was more than a reservoir and pipes. It was Nepal’s first brush with modernity, mediated through engineering and haunted by cholera. More than 134 years on, cholera remains a threat and a reminder of Nepal’s challenges in water and sanitation governance. The issue is not merely ensuring access to safe water but also building public trust that quality essential services can be delivered equitably, sustainably, and with resilience. Ajaya Dixit is a Kathmandu-based researcher exploring Nepal’s water history since the mid-eighteenth century to inform ethical water and river management in a changing climate.