The Sherpa people who live below Mt Everest are so famous globally as intrepid mountain guides that their surname has been expropriated by SUV, lounge chair, pet accessory, momo restaurant brands. But their cultural history of being the custodians of the world's highest mountains and intimate relationship with the mountains is reflected in their folk songs. The lyrics point to the Sherpa reverence for nature, and their innate ecological consciousness.&nbsp; Today, the climate emergency is impacting on the Himalaya through no fault of the inhabitants. Rising temperatures are accelerating the melting of glaciers in the Khumbu region, with the threat of glacial lakes bursting. Flora and fauna in the region have been disturbed by weather extremes.&nbsp; But awareness about protecting nature has been Sherpa folklore for generations, long before climate scientists coined the terms greenhouse effect and climate change. Syar Thinche Nima, a song by Rinjin Lhamo Sherpa, a teacher and member of Himalayan Sherpa Cultural Centre in Khumbu, goes like this: The sun rises in the east If the sun doesn’t rise, the mountains will not glow bright The mountains will not remain If there is no snow on the mountains, there will be no rivers There will be no green water If water does not flow, the fish cannot live If there are no fish, there can be no forests Plants cannot grow If plants cannot grow, there will be no birds There can be no life, creation cannot exist. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/margins/songlines-of-the-rivers-and-forests">Songlines of the rivers and forests</a>, Sewa Bhattarai Explains Rinjin: “This song is proof that our community was conscious of the ecology since they have been living here under the mountains.” The song not just portrays the importance of the mountains, but also vocalises the need for their conservation, on which the fates of the very existence of human civilisation depends. This song is also an example of the role of traditional cultures in combating the climate emergency which threatens to destroy the Himalayan ecosystem, and is caused by the overexploiting of nature. In contrast, indigenous cultures like Sherpa culture, reveres and respects the earth and considers it holy. Many Sherpa songs passed down from generations carry this ethos. Another song shared by Pasang Chhiring Sherpa of the Himalayan Sherpa Cultural Centre, Khangdi Thombi, views the mountains as awe-inspiring and sacred: Look at the mountains to the North How tall they are The heart is glad to see them There is a tall, golden wall here Inside the wall are our priceless treasures Our sages reside there Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/bridging-the-andes-and-himalaya-with-music">Bridging the Andes and Himalaya with music</a>, Sewa Bhattarai  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023090904090_2e7c9aaa46a15aa3b42283fe255a3fd9dd6a13b51df7b78f8819e5882e652c21.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2023090904090_2e7c9aaa46a15aa3b42283fe255a3fd9dd6a13b51df7b78f8819e5882e652c21" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="2667" loading="lazy" alt="Page 5"> </figure>  “The song talks about the mountains protecting our most precious possessions, priceless things which we cannot buy with money,” explains Pasang. Sherpas, who know their mountains better than most outsiders, regard them as symbols of purity, greatness, and mystery. These metaphors can be found in much of South Asian literature and religious scriptures like the Rig Veda which regard the icy summits as the abode of the gods. Another song of the Sherpa links the mountains with spirituality and spiritual practices. Another song created by the revered religious leader Thuchi Nyima Rinpoche goes: There is a peak called Kelung Domirila in Tibet It is powerful and sacred We must make many prayer wheels there “Prayer wheels are very important in our religious practice. However, the song does not talk about prayer wheels literally, it implies that we must do good deeds and practice our religion,” explains Pasang. “This song is sung on auspicious occasions and gives a good message.” Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/the-last-of-the-kusunda">The last of the Kusunda</a>, Sewa Bhattarai With modernisation, global travel, tourism and monetary upliftment of the Sherpa people, many songs and traditional practices are also in danger of being lost. “Our children are more familiar with English songs and discos, so we made an effort to teach these sacred songs to them,” says Rinjin, who helps with Sherpa culture classes once a week.&nbsp; Activists have also set up the Himalayan Sherpa Cultural Centre to teach the new generation about different types of Sherpa songs, among other activities. There are many songs in Sherpa culture, sung on different occasions and in various settings. ‘Lu’ means song, and there are songs of sorrow (Kyo-lu), songs for weddings (Janti-lu), courtship songs (Ja-lu). Shyabru-lu are sung while dancing around in a circle.&nbsp; Pasang adds: “Until now, we have educated more than a thousand children about these songs, and taught them to sing and dance the old way.” &nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/still-dancing-and-singing-for-nepal-revolution">Still dancing and singing for Nepal revolution</a>, Sewa Bhattarai Sewa Bhattarai is a freelance journalist. Her series, On The Margins, &nbsp;focuses on folk music, folklore, and mythology of Nepal's diverse communities.

Sewa Bhattarai

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Songs from Chomolungma

<div class="embed-block"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230228150232/63fe11059c7e80680e0da4bfjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000">Tsering Dorje Sherpa draws milk from his cow one early morning in Gautala. One of his sons, Phurtemba, was killed in an avalance on Mt Everest in 2014. All Photos: MONIKA DEUPALA</div> The rooster starts crowing even before the craggy horizon to the east is silhouetted by a new dawn. The forested flanks of this isolated Himalayan hamlet emerges from the darkness. Wisps of blue smoke waft up from gaps in the corrugated roofs of houses, and there is a clatter of buckets as the villagers walk, coughing, to milk their cows. The frost on the grass shines briefly, to melt as the suns peers up from behind the ridgeline. This is the little Sherpa village of Gautala in eastern Nepal. Its 14 households are composed mainly of elderly men and women. Most of the young men are high altitude guides, and are away preparing for the spring mountaineering expeditions on various Himalayan peaks. Karchung Futi Sherpa, 64, takes off her gumboots and starts to prepare a breakfast of tsampa porridge. But before that, she lights a butter lamp in front of a photo of the Guru Rinpoche and bows to pray. In the kitchen, the kettle is steaming and she pours the water to make suchya, the fortifying salty butter tea, for her husband, Tsering Dorje Sherpa, who walks in with a bucketful of milk. They plan on making sarkam, cottage cheese from the milk later in the day. <div class="embed-block"><div><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 56.25%;"><iframe src="//cdn.iframe.ly/api/iframe?url=https%3A%2F%2Fyoutu.be%2F12v7CZHJEEE&key=87ca3314a9fa775b5c3a7726100694b0" style="top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute; border: 0;" allowfullscreen scrolling="no" allow="accelerometer *; clipboard-write *; encrypted-media *; gyroscope *; picture-in-picture *; web-share *;"></iframe></div></div></div> The two are alone. There is only a cat sitting under a sun beam slanting in through the window, licking its paw. Karchung Futi and Tsering Dorje are one of the few people left in Gautala. Most of the houses here are locked up, with only grandparents like them remaining. There is no sound of children in the village, they are all away at schools in the city with their mothers, while their fathers are on expeditions. The only primary school in the area is closed, and the building now houses the rural municipality office. The nearest school is two hours away, the local health post only has a nurse. The district capital of Khandbari is a 5-hour lurching jeep ride away. Unlike the Khumbu, Gautala is too remote to benefit from tourism income. <div class="embed-block"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230228150232/63fe11089c7e80680e0da4c0jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000">The prayers stone memorial dedicated to Phurtemba Sherpa, who was killed in an avalanche on the Khumbu Icefall in 2014.</div> At 85, Tsering Dorje’s father is the oldest man in the village, and had to be evacuated by helicopter last year for hospital treatment for asthma. He could only afford it because his grandson has a seasonal job with mountaineering expeditions. But the same occupation has also brought tragedy to most families in Gautala. Phurtemba, one of Tsering Dorje’s sons was only 27 when he was killed in the avalanche on the Khumbu Icefall in 2014. He had climbed Mt Everest ten times, and also summited Manaslu, Kangchenjunga and Ama Dablam. When Tsering Dorje heard the news, he rushed to Kathmandu, and was in such shock that he has only a faint memory of the helicopter &nbsp;bringing his son in a body bag. Now, he and his wife fear for their eldest son who is preparing for another expedition this spring. Almost every house in this village has at least one family member involved in mountaineering or trekking. And each of them has someone who has died on the job. <div class="embed-block"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230228150232/63fe110c9c7e80680e0da4c1jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000">Now a traditional healer, Mingma Tashi used to be a trekking guide in his younger days, but after his son died in the Khumbi Ice Fall in 2019, he no longer wants to hear of the mountaineering business.</div> Mingma Tashi Sherpa, 63, recalls the last phone call he had with one of his two sons Pemba when he called from Everest Base Camp after summiting in 2019. “Pala, I just got back down, but I have to go up again guiding another group. I will call in four days when I return to Base Camp,” Mingma Tashi remembers his son telling him. At 28, Pemba Tashi had already climbed Mt Everest three times, been on top of Lhotse and Manaslu and Himlung. But on the second ascent, he fell in the Khumbu Ice Fall, and his body was flown to Gautala for cremation two days later. “I still cannot control my tears,” says Mingma Tashi, wiping his cheek. “It feels like just yesterday we were talking on the phone. But he is gone.” Mingma Tashi himself used to be a trekking guide in his younger days, and is now an amchi traditional healer. “But I cannot find a treatment for my deep pain inside,” he says, eyes downcast. His son was a source not just of pride, but also status and money. He does not want to hear any more about the mountaineering business. “The mountains might have given us good money, but nothing is greater than life. Can money buy life?” he asks. Mingma Tashi and his wife, Dolma, have a few cows and a small vegetable patch. Their elder son makes occasional visits. The daughters live in Kathmandu, and want the parents to move to the city. But the elderly couple do not like the noise and pollution there. <div class="embed-block"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230228150232/63fe11109c7e80680e0da4c2jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000">Gautala's 14 households are composed mainly of elderly men and women. Most of the young men are high altitude guides, and are away preparing for the spring mountaineering expeditions on various Himalayan peaks.</div> Tse Chi Bhute, 63, and Pasang Tharke Sherpa, 54, live in one of the houses above the village. The couple has five children who are well-settled in Kathmandu. Some are married and others are with expeditions. Their younger son broke his leg last year after he fell into a crevasse below Mt Everest. “I fainted after I got the news. I heard the choppers were trying to rescue him but failed multiple times. I calmed down a bit after I heard that he was airlifted to hospital,” says his mother Pasang Tharke. After two surgeries in Kathmandu, the son can now walk on his own and tells his parents in video chats that he wants to be back in the mountains as soon as he is able to – a prospect that terrifies his mother. One of the couple’s daughters works in Korea, and they sold their cows to buy a ticket to fly there to stay with her for two years. But they felt miserable, and returned. “We like the air and water here, we may go for short visits to Kathmandu or abroad, but we always return,” Pasang Tharke says. “And thanks to mobile phones we can be in touch with our children.” <div class="embed-block"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230228150232/63fe11149c7e80680e0da4c3jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000">Nima Sherpa poses in traditional attire. Her husband and children live in Kathmandu, she has stayed behind to care for her yaks.</div> Nima Sherpa also lives alone, taking care of the family livestock. Her husband Mingma Tenzi Sherpa is a famous climber and he lives in Kathmandu with their daughter and son. She chose to stay back because someone had to take care of the in-laws and the yaks. Nima is happy the children are attending good schools in Kathmandu, but misses them terribly. And she prays every climbing season for her husband’s health and safe return. “I have asked my husband multiple times to leave the mountaineering job, but he says he will stop when he turns 60,” Nima says. “These days he has proper gear and training, so I am not as worried as before.” It has been only 70 years since people from Khumbu migrated and settled in Gautala because of its better climate and possibility of farming. Ang Norbu Sherpa remembers how he tagged along with his father and brothers from the nearest village of Dobatak to Gautala when he was a teenager. “Our grandparents cleared the forest and settled here to raise sheep, cows, yaks, and dzo. They made a living selling the wool down the valley,” Ang Norbu says. <div class="embed-block"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230228150232/63fe11179c7e80680e0da4c4jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000">Villagers gather for a meeting about an upcoming hydropower plant. Mountain Dew is the beverage for special occassions like this.</div> Riku Dorje Sherpa is said to be the first person from Gautala to become a mountaineering guide, but he was killed in 1991 after climbing Kanchenjunga. His body was never found. His brother Prem Lakpa Sherpa is now 55, and he stopped climbing after he broke his arm during an expedition. On the way to Dobatak there is a memorial mane wall with Buddhist mantra dedicated to Riku Dorje. As dusk fell, Nimfuti Sherpa, 24, called out to her cattle grazing on the slopes above the village. A dzo and a cows hear her, and clamber down to the shed. Her mother helps set up the cowshed for the night. While many young people have left the village for better opportunities, Nimfuti has stayed, serving also as an auxiliary health worker in Gautala. “I really like it here, the air is pure, and I like living with my family, taking care of them and helping with their daily chores,” says Nimfuti, adding that her mother was also a health volunteer, and was her inspiration. <div class="embed-block"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230228150232/63fe111c9c7e80680e0da4c5jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000">While many young people have left the village for better opportunities, Nimfuti Sherpa has stayed, serving also as an auxiliary health worker in Gautala.</div> “I grew up watching my mother on home visits and make the sick better with medicines,” she recalls. “I am happy to follow in her footsteps, treat patients, or refer them to Khandbari Hospital if they are in a more serious condition.” Nimfuti now hopes to turn her temporary job into a permanent one, for which she has been preparing for exams. For her, the village has been a communal space that she never found in any other part of the country. She dreams of working for her village and her family. Her father Furtemba Sherpa, 51, has also dedicated his life to the village. He lost his brother and father in a mountaineering &nbsp;accident, after that he quit his own expedition job and settled in Gautala with the family. He is helping Gautala build its own hydropower plant for electricity, and gets help to build and maintain trails and bridges. “My job may not seem important or earn lots of money, but it is important for us younger people in the village to take such responsibilities,” he says, smiling.

Monika Deupala

Village of the climbers

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

How the Peace Corps changed a volunteer’s life

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

Nepal’s Resource Curse

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

Smart ageing is Nepal’s next frontier

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

sherpa-community

Songs from Chomolungma

Village of the climbers

How the Peace Corps changed a volunteer’s life

Nepal’s Resource Curse

Smart ageing is Nepal’s next frontier

Trees of life and living