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

When Marinel de Jesus was growing up in her first-gen Filipino family in the United States, parents wanted her to become a doctor or a lawyer because it meant financial stability and respect. She chose law, and went on to be a successful public prosecutor in Washington DC. She had it all: a career, a house, and proud parents. “It was the American dream,” recalled de Jesus, now 47. “But something felt missing.” &nbsp; Seven years ago, de Jesus decided that a seemingly perfect life that made her parents proud was not what she truly wanted. This epiphany came during a hike in the Sierra Nevada Mountains.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240310060344_5075fe7368b871319d626ef6be6fa837feee1c2227886e128ebbb42a0873709f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20240310060344_5075fe7368b871319d626ef6be6fa837feee1c2227886e128ebbb42a0873709f" data-rendition-name="original" width="900" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Marinel De Jesus"> <figcaption>Marinel De Jesus.</figcaption> </figure>  For Mingmar Dolma Sherpa, following her passion was easier since some of her relatives are mountain guides. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; It was on <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/lifetime-experience-on-pikey-peak">Pikey Peak in Solukhumbu</a>, looking out to a sweeping panorama from Annapurna to Kangchenjunga that she saw her future in the profession.&nbsp; Now 25, Sherpa has a trekking guide licence, but her challenge has not been in climbing up and down mountains so much as overcoming the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-female-guides-prepare-for-trekking-season">male hierarchy in her line of work</a>. She says, “Female guides really have to struggle to get jobs during the trekking season.”&nbsp; Marinel and Mingmar met ahead of the GHT to trek <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/building-back-a-beyul-in-tsum">the Tsum Valley</a>, and they hit it off. They shared not just a love for nature, but a desire to prove themselves as women. Which is when they decided to walk <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/peddling-the-great-himalayan-trail">the Great Himalayan Trail</a> (GHT) which is not just a distance of 1,700km but requires constant ascending and descending steep mountain paths. &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240308120332_01bc8f0a01809bfec39ac93234115a4f6f878ebbcd696d72d9fd3132b591f146.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20240308120332_01bc8f0a01809bfec39ac93234115a4f6f878ebbcd696d72d9fd3132b591f146" data-rendition-name="original" width="1250" height="733" loading="lazy" alt="GHT map"> <figcaption>Map: The Great Himalayan Trail (www.greathimalayatrail.com)</figcaption> </figure>  The two women started their trek from Kangchenjunga Base Camp last month, and were immediately hit by blizzards. Suffering long-Covid, Marinel had difficulty on steeper sections.&nbsp; They decided to do the Makalu section later, and are now backtracking from Rolwaling to Everest Base Camp. This is just the beginning of the GHT. The two will now continue through Langtang, Ganesh Himal, Annapurna, Dolpo, Mugu, ending up in Simkot of Humla in May. They are doing a hydrid route &nbsp;that combines high passes with lower valleys and hope to complete it in 140 days. “It is rare for clients to ask us about doing the Great Himalayan Trail, and it is even rarer to find people who actually complete it,” says Santosh Adhikari at Nepal Trekking Company, who himself has never done the GHT.&nbsp; Marinel de Jesus calls herself the ‘Brown Gal Trekker’, and her transition from lawyer to full-time trekker has not been an easy one – especially since after overcoming one challenge she keeps giving herself an even more difficult one.&nbsp; She admitted in a Facebook post after the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/saving-kangchenjunga">Kangchenjunga</a> section that the cold and difficulty was tougher than she anticipated.&nbsp; “Being a lawyer is a high stress job,” de Jesus told us before setting off last month. “But despite the physical strain, trekking in the Himalaya puts your mind at ease.” For Mingmar, this is a chance to prove herself and her endurance, and highlight the role and status of female Nepali mountain guides who are rarely recognised in a male-dominated industry.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240310060344_3f51001a5f7c425066e5575f2157ea28f40aa3c80c72f0f3fe8c67b2cb56eb8a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20240310060344_3f51001a5f7c425066e5575f2157ea28f40aa3c80c72f0f3fe8c67b2cb56eb8a" data-rendition-name="original" width="900" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Mingmar Sherpa"> <figcaption>Mingmar Sherpa</figcaption> </figure>  She says: “Nepali women have to work twice as hard to be taken seriously and to prove our worth.” As a US public prosecutor, de Jesus was tired of the competitive nature of the job, arguing all the time on matters of child protection and human rights law. Hiking was a way to de-stress. She felt nurtured and healed by the natural world. “I resigned from my job as a lawyer and went on a 5-day trek at Kings Canyon National Park in California. If I regretted quitting, I would know that very week but I came back happy,” de Jesus recalls. Marinel now owns a travel company called Equity Global Treks, that aims to make tourism responsible and socially just so locals have a say in the way the industry is run.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240310060344_fd649f24f42627de04df0ca4af71e60f5cbc25f5e734d28a0aeb45ca0c9b9bd0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20240310060344_fd649f24f42627de04df0ca4af71e60f5cbc25f5e734d28a0aeb45ca0c9b9bd0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1536" height="2048" loading="lazy" alt="Marinel De Jesus and Mingmar Sherpa"> <figcaption>Marinel De Jesus and Mingmar Sherpa at Rolwaling Valley last week.</figcaption> </figure>  “At 13, it was my parent’s decision to leave the Philippines. I had to leave my home and friends,” &nbsp;she says. “Today, I have given up my lucrative career and left home. But it is my decision, and mine alone.” On Day 18 of 140 on Tuesday, de Jesus described her trekking experience so far as “raw, rugged, and real”. She added, “This is the longest I will be with mountains and nature. What else can I ask for?” &nbsp; To support the GHT Women Leaders Campaign, go to the <a href="https://www.browngaltrekker.com/nepal/ghtwomenleaders2024">website</a>.

Pinki Sris Rana

The great Himalayan trial

<figure><img width="1500" height="757" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108121140/636a40219c7e80680e04a602jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Photo: RAJENDRA LAMA</figcaption></figure>As new roads crisscross the mountains and valleys of the Himalaya, Nepal’s most famous attraction – trekking – is unfortunately being sullied. When asked what facility they want most from the government, villagers living in the remote districts of Nepal unanimously say: a road. It is therefore a given that the roads will be there, we just have to make sure that they are built with care so they are safe and do not damage the fragile slopes.A <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/survey-is-wakeup-call-for-nepal-government/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">recent survey</a> has shown that three-quarters of Nepal’s population now has access to at least a dirt road, and a quarter live near a black-topped highway. What this means is that while established trekking trails like the Annapurna Circuit or the Mustang Trek may have the familiar roadside noise and dust, better access also makes it feasible to discover remoter side valleys.For example, after driving to Chame, more trekkers can now visit Nar, Phu and do the Seven Pass Trek from Manang to Mustang. When the Budi Gandaki road reaches Philim, it will make the Tsum Valley and Manaslu more accessible.Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/kundadixit/2010/09/25/the-great-himalayan-trail/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The Great Himalayan Trail</a>, Kunda Dixit <img width="791" height="835" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108121140/636a40249c7e80680e04a603jpeg.jpg" alt="">Roads will also make it easier for tourists looking for adventure in Nepal who do not have the four months necessary to do The Great Himalayan Trail at one go, to take it in instalments. You can now drive up to four days below Kangchenjunga base camp, trek for two weeks, and ride/fly out of Tumlingtar, then return the next season to do the next segment.Despite all the road-building, there are plenty of pristine valleys, high passes and remote villages in the Himalaya where we can still go to experience the ‘Old Nepal’: Nyingma Gyansen La between Mugu and Dolpo, or Kang La in Manang (pictured, above) where you feel like there is no further you can go on this Earth, or Tashi Labtsa Pass, from where you can peer down at the layers and layers of mountains and contemplate infinity.The perfect guidebook for a cross-Himalayan trek is just out in its second updated edition. <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=16399#.XNFXj-Uza70" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Robin Boustead</a>’s The Great Himalayan Trail: A Pictorial Guide has more recent photographs, excellent new maps from Himalayan Map House (the GHT passing through Dolpo, map above) and lots of tips and information for both the first-time Great Himalayaner, or a return trekker doing it in chapters.Trekking in Nepal has never been just about the scenery. It is also about the people and travelling along the traditional caravan routes, the rural trading trails or herders taking mountain goats to goths in the monsoon. It is along these trails that Nepalis and tourists visiting Nepal have formed a bond that goes back decades. <img width="1500" height="414" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108121140/636a40279c7e80680e04a604jpeg.jpg" alt="">As Peter Hillary said at the launch of the second edition of Boustead’s book recently in Kathmandu: “I have a love affair with Nepal because there is nowhere else with this scenery. But much more than that it is also the people who live here -- Nepalis are the most open-hearted people in the world.”And what better way to meet Nepalis face-to-face than on the up and down paths, through villages and forests, across yak pastures and passing smiling faces on trail bridges.‘Although the mountains are beyond compare, it is the people you meet along the trail that linger in your memory ... their indefatigable boldness and energy, their independence, strength and resilience when times are bad … it is impossible to make a comparison but surely the people of the high Himal are the best of mankind?’ Boustead writes in his Introduction. After leafing through this book, and admiring the foldout panorama of the Hongu Basin from the West Col, there will be very few who will not want to pack their gear and head off to do at least one part of <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/kundadixit/2010/09/25/the-great-himalayan-trail/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The Great Himalayan Trail</a>.As the book makes clear, the GHT is not just for mountaineers -- any fit person with basic climbing skills can do it. Traversing Nepal along The Great Himalayan Trail is the last great adventure left in the world today.The Great Himalayan Trail A Pictorial Guide (Second Edition) by Robin Boustead Himalayan Map House, 2019 176 pages, Rs 3,000<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108121140/636a40299c7e80680e04a605jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="600" height="478">

Kunda Dixit

Nepal's Grand Trek Road

Recent outrage in Sikkim over an Indian Army expedition climbing <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/saving-kangchenjunga">Kangchenjunga</a>, the world’s third-highest peak, has spiked attention to the need to balance mountaineering jobs with indigenous reverence for sacred landmarks. Kangchenjunga (8,586m) is not a peak as much as it is a mountain range with 16 peaks above 7,000m on the border between India and Nepal -- the word itself means ‘five treasures of the snows’ in Tibetan. Some of the highest prominences like Kangchenjunga West and Kangbachen are in Nepal, while the Main, Central and South Peaks are on the border. Climbing the peak from the Indian side has been banned since 2001 because the indigenous Lepcha community there regard the mountain as the abode of Dzoe-nga, the patron deity of Sikkim, which was an independent Himalayan Kingdom until it was annexed by India in 1975.&nbsp; Buddhists in Sikkim say their saint, Padmasambhava, recognised the mountain as a protective spirit. The state has declared the base of the mountain Kangchenjunga National Park, which covers an area one-third of Sikkim. ‘The act of scaling this sacred peak is not only a matter of serious concern but also a violation of both the prevailing legal provisions and the deeply held religious beliefs of the people of Sikkim,’ read a letter from Chief Minister Prem Singh Tamang (Golay) to Amit Shah, India’s Minister of Home Affairs and Cooperation.&nbsp; Tamang continued: ‘We further request Your Honour to take up the issue with the Government of Nepal to ensure that no future expeditions are permitted on the sacred mountain, in deference to the deeply held beliefs and cultural values of the people of Sikkim.’ Kangchenjunga was climbed for the first time exactly 70 years ago by a British team who told King Tashi Namgyal, the Choegyal of Sikkim, that they would not set foot on the summit. Since then, there have been about 532 successful climbs of the peaks and 52 have died while trying.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250628060616_5c268e08cf49f36b79ef9b31933fc2d9bf9a6f65414e7ca06dd028bf04e7ccc1.png" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250628060616_5c268e08cf49f36b79ef9b31933fc2d9bf9a6f65414e7ca06dd028bf04e7ccc1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1782" height="1178" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga: too sacred to climb NT"> <figcaption>Indigenous communities in Sikkim held purification ceremonies following the Indian expedition to Kangchenjunga. Photo: THE VOICE OF SIKKIM / FACEBOOK</figcaption> </figure>  <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/peak-climbing-season-2025-s4abrxny">This spring climbing season</a> alone, there were 70 climbing permits for foreigners issued for Kangchenjunga by the Nepal government, and made it to the top while one French climber died.&nbsp; One of the expeditions this year was an Indian Army team led by Col Ranveer Jamwal, who has summited the highest peaks on all seven continents, and Mt Everest thrice. Jamwal’s team was on the final leg of a ‘<a href="https://economictimes.indiatimes.com/news/india/nimas-summits-mt-kangchenjunga-concludes-historic-har-shikhar-tiranga-mission-successfully/articleshow/121341315.cms?from=mdr">Har Shikhar Tiranga</a>’ (The Tricolour on Every Peak) mission to plant the Indian flag at the highest points of each of India’s 28 states. Kanchenjunga was the last peak they had left, and the hardest, but the expedition put five climbers on the summit. What seems to have incensed the Sikkimese is that while it has banned climbing the mountain from its side, it was an Indian military expedition that went to Nepal to climb the mountain. After news broke of the climb in May, the Sikkim Indigenous Lepcha Tribal Association asked people to observe purification ceremonies in temples across the state. Mayalmit Lepcha of the association acknowledged that the Sikkim government was also partly at fault: “I don’t think such an expedition could have gone forward without the state government being informed, so it could have done something to intervene. It shows weakness. What’s done is done, all we can do is carry out these sanctification ceremonies.”&nbsp; In 2000, one year before Sikkim’s ban, the state allowed an Austrian team to attempt Kanchenjunga’s northeast face for a fee of $20,000, on agreement that they would stop 10m before the summit. Despite this, there was outrage over the expedition on the grounds that it violated Indian laws regarding the defiling of religious sites and Sikkim’s rights to maintain its culture after merging with India. The Indian Army expedition was also seen to have circumvented Sikkim’s law and violated religious sensibilities by going through Nepal. While the team may have thought they were respecting Sikkim’s beliefs by finding a way to complete the mission, the people of Sikkim saw it as defilement.&nbsp; The somber mood of the Sikkim people at the ritual contrasts sharply with Jamwal’s sense of accomplishment. “Without a doubt, the most difficult summit of my life,” he told reporters after the climb. “It tested every ounce of our will.”&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250628060616_ccfe079c78dab788d19fe2080ee8a5d5dcb11de4157316f6d94e5964da097157.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250628060616_ccfe079c78dab788d19fe2080ee8a5d5dcb11de4157316f6d94e5964da097157" data-rendition-name="original" width="787" height="377" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga: too sacred to climb NT"> <figcaption>Prayer flags along the Sikkim-Kangchenjunga trekking route. Photo: TREKKINGININDIA.COM</figcaption> </figure>  The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-rise-and-fall-of-nims-purja">controversial Nepali-British mountaineer Nirmal Purja</a> was also on Kangchenjunga this spring the mountain, on a mission to summit all 14 8,000m peaks for a third time. He echoed Jamwal about the tough conditions: “The conditions above camp were extremely tough, with deep snow and challenging terrain—more crevasses than usual.” Nepal’s government has not said anything publicly, but it is unlikely that it will ban climbing on Kangchenjunga, since it is becoming popular with expeditions because of its technical challenges, and overcrowding on Mt Everest. Nepal does have bans in place for some of its mountains out of respect for local beliefs. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/to-open-machapuchre-for-mountaineering-or-not">Mt Machapuchre</a> (6,990m) the imposing pyramid that looms over Pokhara, for example, is seen as an icon of purity by the Gurung people and a symbol of Vishnu by the Hindu communities who live at its base. A strict climbing ban has been in place since 1957, when a British expedition led by Col Jimmy Roberts stopped 45m short of the summit – either because the last bit was too difficult or out of deference to local sentiments.&nbsp; Khumbila that stands above Namche Bazar is only 5,761m high, but like Kanchenjunga is considered the protector deity of the Sherpa people. Gauri Shankar on the Nepal-China border, called Chomo Tseringma by the local community, was off-limits between 1965 and 1979 due to its association with Lord Shiva and Gauri, his consort. Although expeditions are now allowed, there are not too many takers. In Tibet, climbing Mount Kailash is prohibited by the Chinese government because it revered by the Hindus, Buddhists and followers of the Bon faith. Even Mt Everest is regarded as sacred, and its Sherpa name is Chomolungma, Goddess Mother of the Earth.&nbsp; Economically, climbs on Kanchenjunga bring in decent revenue. This climbing season, the 41 permits, at $1,800 each, brought in $73,800. This is somewhat comparable to Makalu, Lhotse, and Annapurna I, but these numbers are dwarfed by the $4 million in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-everest-industry">Everest permits</a>. Revenue from Kanchenjunga climbing permits is something Nepal could potentially forgo if necessary, but the expeditions also provide jobs to hundreds of high altitude guides, porters, base camp support staff and other logistical costs.&nbsp; As the third highest mountain in the world and the tallest in India, there will always be significant motivation to climb it from the Nepal side, especially as climbers are drawn by the technical climbing at high altitude.

Kangchenjunga: too sacred to climb?

The monsoon this year arrived on time, and brought life-giving rain — irrigating paddy terraces, recharging groundwater, reviving springs, and increasing electricity generation.
But Nepal has to deal with either too much water or too little. On a clear April day before the monsoon, the hills of Sindhuli district were parched, and there were wildfires burning out of control. There had been no rain for the past six months.
And that has been the perennial crisis for Nepal’s farmers: that 85% of the rainfall occurs during just four months of the monsoon with little rain for the other eight months.&nbsp;
The water crisis is related to the powerful changes sweeping the mid-hill region of Nepal. With better roads, higher incomes and more exposure, many residents now aspire to have the kind of water supply seen in urban homes. They want hot or cold water at the turn of a tap, showers and flush tank toilets.&nbsp;
To meet this rising demand, many local and provincial governments are investing in large water supply projects often by lifting water from rivers hundreds of metres down the mountain. But these new systems may not be sustainable in the long run.
Many villages in Sindhuli are switching from local springs to piped systems, and even in rural homes, overhead tanks are becoming common.
But this new convenience comes with big challenges. Lifting water from rivers far below requires long pipes, electric pumps, and constant maintenance. These systems are costly, and the streams themselves often shrink to a trickle in the dry months. Big water-lifting schemes look impressive, but there is doubt if they can meet growing water demand.
A much more sustainable solution would be what some communities are doing: restoring old ponds or build new recharge systems. But those villages are exceptions, in most places traditional ponds and wallows are being filled up to be turned into sports fields, or make way for buildings.
Where there are new ponds, they are sometimes in the wrong places or without proper design. Roads and drains are not engineered properly and have increased landslides and erosion. Water management in hilly areas is not just about building things, it is about building in the right way, in the right place.
Traditional water systems were based on nature. They were not perfect, but they used the land wisely. Ponds used to hold rainwater and slowly refill springs which supported families, farms, and forests.&nbsp;
Not everything worked well in the past, but we can learn from traditional water management practices. Across Nepal, some rural municipalities have launched campaigns to store monsoon runoff — either in tanks, ponds or by recharging the aquifers.
But not all efforts have been successful. Some ponds are built without any hydrological study. Some are rushed to meet deadlines rather than real needs.&nbsp;
Now, the Muhan initiative hopes to revive springs to make households more resilient and help farmings. With the financial support of the Australian Centre for International Agricultural Research, research is being done to understand how springs work and how they are affected by changes in rainfall, land use, and development.&nbsp;
Instead of just building pipes and tanks, the project maps the entire springshed so we can understand the root cause of water shortage. In Sindhuli, the problem is not the amount of rain, but the loss of natural systems that store it and the social systems that manage water.&nbsp;
Nepal’s towns and villages now face a major challenge: how to manage water all year round as demand rises with people’s living standards. Depending only on river-lift systems is not a sustainable solution.&nbsp;
We need a mix of approaches that help store water from the rainy season to make it available for the rest of the year, whether by directly harvesting rainwater, restoring ponds, managing springsheds, or smart management of demand.
Rural Nepal is also seeing dramatic depopulation. Much of the outmigration can be stemmed if there is easier water supply for agriculture and household use. Across the mid hills, villages are emptying because springs are going dry. Government policy needs to catch up with the reality on the ground, and support solutions that work for people and nature. Every water supply plan should include recharge structures. Every road or building project should consider water flow and erosion. Local governments need more than budgets: they need training, tools, and data.
Ngamindra Dahal is with the Nepal Water Conservation Foundation, Kathmandu. Hemant Ojha collaborated in this piece and is associated with the Australian National University.

Water for Life

Turkish Airlines has been presented with the Sustainable Financing Pioneer Award by Ishka, recognising its landmark transaction that, for the first time, integrated a sustainability-linked loan structure into a multi-currency JOLCO financing model for the acquisition of two next-generation, fuel-efficient Airbus A321neo aircraft. This innovative transaction, arranged by Societe Generale, links the financing terms to Turkish Airlines’ Sustainability Performance Targets (SPTs), particularly the goal of reducing carbon intensity across its fleet.
&nbsp;&nbsp;“We believe this structure not only supports our fleet renewal and growth objectives, but also reinforces our long-term commitment to becoming a carbon-neutral airline by 2050,” said Chief Financial Officer Murat Şeker.

Turkish finance

<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/the-last-of-the-kusunda">The Kusunda</a> are among the last remaining hunter-gatherer communities left in Nepal, and it has only one fluent speaker left of a language that is not related to any other language group in South Asia.&nbsp; The Kusunda call themselves the King of the Forests ((गेम्येहाक़ in Kusunda,वन राजा in Nepali) and used to have a nomadic lifestyle till recently. But decades of exclusion from mainstream society and modernity have forced the Kusunda to assimilate. &nbsp; Today, most Kusunda live across Nepal’s mid-hills and western plains, choosing to identify themselves as Thakuri and adopting names like Sen, Shahi, and Khan to avoid ostracisation. Over time, inter-ethnic marriages between the Kusunda and other communities became increasingly common.&nbsp; However, the assimilation with other communities also meant that almost no one from the Kusunda community can speak their mother tongue – considered by linguists to be a ‘language isolate’ not related to any other language group in the world, and lacking set rules of grammar that are foundational to other languages. There are no words for ‘Yes’ or ‘No’ in Kusunda, nor are there words to signify direction. There are 23 languages with less than 1,000 speakers listed in Nepal's 2021 census, with Kusunda being the language with the least number of speakers. The number of people who identified as Kusunda has decreased with each subsequent census. Only 253 individuals identified themselves as Kusunda in the last National Census of 2021, down from 273 in 2011.&nbsp; <div class="embed-block"><iframe src="https://creators.spotify.com/pod/show/raithane-bhakha/embed/episodes/Kusundas---the-last-of-the-forest-kings-e23ge6p/a-a9peei1" height="102px" width="400px" frameborder="0" scrolling="no"></iframe></div> The government’s decision to provide a social security stipend to the community for the past few years has prompted many from the Kusunda community to reclaim their identity and in the process, explore their culture and language. Kamala Sen Kusunda, who lives in Dang, is the only fluent native Kusunda speaker alive, although there are now other Kusunda and non-Kusunda people learning how to speak the language. By the time Kamala Sen Kusunda was born in 1975, her family had settled in a village in Rolpa. Although she did not experience the nomadic life of her forebears, she still roamed the forests freely as a child and many of the values and socio-cultural practices of her community were instilled in her and her siblings.&nbsp; This meant that Kamala grew up speaking Kusunda with her family. But by then, the Kusunda had increasingly begun to interact with people beyond their community, and inter-ethnic marriages had become a norm.&nbsp; Kamala herself married at 18 to a 52-year-old man from the Chhetri community. She would go on to have four children, but they were brought up with her husband’s culture and community rather than her own, and teaching them her mother tongue seemed impractical.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250628030648_afaa298bf8ea3b7086e2ed086b11eab463ef2b20a82a4aad74df3dd2e922a4c3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250628030648_afaa298bf8ea3b7086e2ed086b11eab463ef2b20a82a4aad74df3dd2e922a4c3" data-rendition-name="original" width="855" height="641" loading="lazy" alt="Kusunda NT"> <figcaption>Gyani Maiya Kusunda with Kusunda youth in 2015.</figcaption> </figure>  “If I had spoken my language to them when they were children, they would have learned,” she tells us ruefully. “But they were growing up in a different community, so I never pushed, and they never expressed interest.” At the time, she had other things to worry about, such as earning a livelihood and sustaining her family. To find work, Kamala and her family moved to Shimla in India, where she worked at an apple orchard for six years.&nbsp; Over the next years, Kamala and her family moved back and forth between India and Nepal for work, and Kamala was not actively conversing in the language of her people or being able to connect with members of her community now scattered across Nepal.&nbsp; Had she not forgotten her language after all those years? “How could I forget the language of my ancestors?” she replies. “Not speaking it did not mean that it ceased to be a part of me.”&nbsp; Kamala had been working at a brick kiln in Thimi seven years ago when the National Language Commission tracked her down, offered her a paid position as a Kusunda language consultant and source person for basic language training in Dang.&nbsp; It was there that Kamala met her cousin Gyani Maiya Sen Kusunda, the only other person able to speak Kusunda fluently, who had been working with the Commission to conserve Kusunda language and culture. It was also where Kamala met language researcher and lexicographer Uday Raj Ale. Ale had been in the middle of his research into the Tharu language and community 15 years ago when he met Gyani Maiya Kusunda’s son, who told him that his mother was one of the few people who spoke Kusunda, but that no one had shown an interest in studying and preserving the language and culture. Ale met Gyani Maiya, spending time with her learning and researching Kusunda. By 2017, Ale had collected enough words to put together a Kusunda dictionary. The Kusunda vocabulary currently comprises 2,000 words. His research into the Kusunda language and culture has taken him to every known Kusunda household in Nepal. Although the census puts the number of Kusunda at 253, Ale reckons there are only 158.&nbsp; “Kusunda language is endangered due to its lack of use in everyday life, literature, and religious and socio-cultural practices, as well as the prevalence of inter-ethnic marriages,” explains Ale. In 2019 the Language Commission began its language transfer programs for youth from indigenous communities. Since then, the Commission has completed multiple phases of Kusunda language classes in Dang facilitated by Uday Raj Ale. The classes have 20 students, not just from the Kusunda community, but also interested non-native students.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250626120632_c6c378bc00af450f2b7f0cf17af1c3b2b6f7b7226927c458c3e01ec389869d33.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250626120632_c6c378bc00af450f2b7f0cf17af1c3b2b6f7b7226927c458c3e01ec389869d33" data-rendition-name="original" width="1485" height="1535" loading="lazy" alt="Kusunda NT"> <figcaption>Students learning Kusunda with instructor Uday Raj Ale (second row, left)</figcaption> </figure>  Khamba Rokaya, who worked as a caretaker for young Kusunda children in Dang, became interested in learning the language as she sat in with the children during their lessons, and for the last few years has been among the few non-native Kusunda language learners in Dang. “I am not from the Kusunda community, but now that I have learned the language, I hope to do my part to carry on the work and share my knowledge with as many people as possible,” she says. “One way to ensure that we preserve this language is to extend its speaker base, both within the Kusunda and non-native communities.” Ale and Kamala have continued to work together since Gyani Maya’s passing in 2020, expanding the Kusunda vocabulary and creating appropriate curricula to fit the needs of the students as their knowledge of Kusunda expands.&nbsp; But without any documentation of Kusunda history, the community’s traditions, stories, values and language were at risk of being lost to time. “The loss of an ethnicity, language or culture in a country is akin to losing a vital organ, and a unique perspective of looking at the world,” says Ale. Which is why Archive Nepal in collaboration with the British Council’s Cultural Protection Fund and the UK’s Department of Culture, Media, and Sport in February launched a book of creative writings in the Kusunda language titled पिन्डा (meaning ‘The First’ in Kusunda): A Compilation of Kusunda Literature. The book is a collection of informative essays about the Kusunda language and culture, short stories that explore themes from nomadic life to universal Nepali experiences of poverty and migration, letters to loved ones, as well as conversational pieces by five Kusunda students ranging from ages 16 to 30. The works in the Kusunda language are also translated into Nepali and English.&nbsp; “Language is an important part of ethnic identity, and our indigenous languages cannot evolve or be conserved unless they are spoken or taught,” said Ale during the launch of the book earlier this year. “But most importantly, language exists as long as there exists literature in that language.” Kamala was in Kathmandu for the launch of the book, and smiled proudly as she looked at the young writers who had contributed to the collection. She said: “I’m glad the young people have chosen to learn and preserve Kusunda. Otherwise, our language would have died with me.” &nbsp;