Bhawanath Bhattarai was 80 years old when he was brought to Pashupati to die.After falling ill at his home in Sunsari district, he was rushed to a hospital in Kathmandu. The doctors said they could not do anything for him, and the end was near.  As was the custom, the family brought Bhattarai to Pashupati. He was held inclined in a stretcher so that his feet touched the sacred waters of the Bagmati to ensure smooth passage to heaven as he took his last breath.  Ayurvedic doctor Subarna Baidya was watching from the temple parapet as Bhattarai gasped at the steps to the river. He hurried down and brought Bhattarai to his Pashupati Aryaghat Sewa Kendra where he administered ayurvedic potions. The patient recovered, and was sent home 48 days later. Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Seeing-is-believing,2577">Seeing is believing</a>, Sahina ShresthaThat was 20 years ago, and Baidya has never forgotten what his patient told him the day he was discharged: “Baidyaji, give me one of your photos, I will put it next to my god and worship you both.”  Bhattarai would live on for another 12 years, passing away at age 92. His daughters make it a point to visit the doctor at Pashupati every time they are in Kathmandu.Subarna Baidya is descended from a long line of ayurvedic practitioners who have tended to the dying at Pashupati temple. (His surname actually means '<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/the-return-of-the-baidyas,1623" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">traditional healer</a>'). His father Mohan Baidya looked after poet laureate Laxmi Prasad Devkota as he lay battling for breath at Pashupati for 11 days before he died in 1959.  Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/medicine-goes-back-to-its-roots/">Medicine goes back to its roots</a>, Sonia Awale <img width="1680" height="1120" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101120/637208c49c7e80680e0b5505jpeg.jpg" alt=""/>Subarna was 11 then, and helped his father at the Pashupati Aryaghat Sewa Kendra as he treated and provided spiritual support to the terminally ill. After his father died in 1995, Subarna stepped into his role of the ‘Ghate Baidya’ (crematoria doctor).While his skills as a practitioner of Ayurveda have been passed down to him through generations, Subarna Baidya institutionalised the practice in 1995, turning the Sewa Kendra into an Ayurvedic clinic. Most of his patients are in their final stages, after allopathic doctors in modern hospitals have given up trying to save their lives. After they are brought to Pashupati, Subarna Baidya examines each patient -- asking about their diet, examining their bile, kidneys, lungs. He takes their pulse and then prescribes an appropriate ayurvedic medicine like tulsi seeds, cardamom, nutmeg, nageswar, ashwagandha, or sanjeevani.Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/traditional-tibetan-medicine-gets-global-following-but-not-government-support,2604">Himalayan healers</a>, Ayesha Shakya <img width="1680" height="1120" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101120/637208c79c7e80680e0b5506jpeg.jpg" alt=""><img width="1553" height="1035" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101120/637208ca9c7e80680e0b5507jpeg.jpg" alt=""><img width="1441" height="961" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101120/637208cd9c7e80680e0b5508jpeg.jpg" alt="">"My father's knowledge of herbs, which he passed onto me, as well as my own study and research enabled me to devise treatment plans for liver-related diseases, cancer, asthma and jaundice,” says Baidya. Treatment is free for most patients and the hospice has grown from one bed to 35 thanks to donations from patients who lived after being given up for dead.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/the-good-doctor/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">The good doctor</a>, Lisa ChoegyalSubarna Baidya remembers many of them. Like Bishnumaya Lama, who  brought her five-year-old son Umit to Kathmandu from Kulekhani when he fell gravely ill 16 years ago. Doctors at a city hospital said the boy’s kidneys had stopped working, and gave him only a few days to live.  Grief-stricken, Bishnumaya brought Umit to Pashupati thinking it was for his funeral. But at the Pashupati Aryaghat Sewa Kendra, his health began to improve after Baidya's treatment. He was discharged after a  month.Amit is now a 21-year-old student. He says, “My mother is convinced it was the Baidya who saved my life.”Read also:<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/I-am-an-amchi,3349"> I am an amchi</a>, Sabine Pretch <figure><img width="555" height="693" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101120/637208d09c7e80680e0b5509jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Five-year-old Umit Lama, who had double kidney failure, was treated by Subarna Baidya.</figcaption></figure><figure><img width="1680" height="1120" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101120/637208d39c7e80680e0b550ajpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Umit Lama, now 21 years old, with his mother Bishnumaya Lama.</figcaption></figure>In 2007, Ek Bahadur Shakya’s family brought him to hospital in Kathmandu from Trisuli after both his <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/kidney-patients-dying-due-to-covid-19-lockdown/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">kidneys failed</a>. Doctors told the family to bring him home so he could live out his last days comfortably.Prepared for the worst, Raju Shakya took his father directly to Pashupati. But within a month he was walking around and lived for another year.   “Thanks to Subarna Baidya I could spend more time with my father, he brought him back to life after hospitals had given up,” says Raju.As Subarna Baidya’s fame spread, it was not just those in their last throes who came to his centre. Badri Kumari Gautam suffered from asthma, and was taken by her son to see Subarna Baidya after modern drugs did not make her better. Within a week of starting on Baidya's ayurvedic prescription, she started breathing easier.Baidya has carefully saved letters that patients and relatives write after they get home. "The words are a source of constant inspiration and proves the importance of the work we do,” says Baidya.<a href="http://nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=4418#.WCVzGi197IU" target="blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Amchi renaissance</a>, Naresh Newar <img width="642" height="960" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101120/637208d59c7e80680e0b550bjpeg.jpg" alt=""><img width="645" height="950" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101120/637208d89c7e80680e0b550cjpeg.jpg" alt="">Subarna Baidya has saved latters written to him by patients.To be sure, not everyone makes a miraculous recovery. After all, this is a place where people bring relatives when there is no hope left. Still, they believe that taking a last breath on the banks of the Bagmati is a passport to heaven.Baidya has noticed that many patients are tired of fighting for life, and are waiting for their final goodbyes. “Many are waiting to see their children for the last time, and as soon as they come from abroad, they let go,” he says.The building that houses the Sewa Kendra was rebuilt during the reign of Chandra Shamsher Rana, and it is showing its age. Despite being in the premises of the Pashupati Development Trust, it is in a dilapidated state.For Subarna Baidya, this is where he has worked and lived for the past 30 years, carrying on the work of his ancestors. Every day, he mourns deaths of patients but also celebrates miraculous recoveries.  He says matter-of-factly, “Death is difficult, but on days I can send someone home, I sleep peacefully.”Read also: <a href="http://nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=18955#.WCVxgC197IU" target="blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Amchis want recognition</a>, Naresh NewarAdapted from the <a href="https://www.himalkhabar.com/news/128158">original</a> in Himal Khabar.

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The healer of Pashupati

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141144/636d00c19c7e80680e0a35f4jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3686" height="2690"/><figcaption>Photo: CREATIVE COMMONS</figcaption></figure>Nearly two years after the global <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/behind-the-masks/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Covid-19 pandemic</a> began, there has been a revival of traditional Ayurveda medicines that boost the human immune system. While some dismiss herbal treatments as quackery, even allopathic doctors are now prescribing Ayurvedic formulations.During the pandemic, treatment protocols have shifted from treating the immediate symptoms to preventing multiple infections and better management of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/had-covid-beware-of-long-covid/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">post-recovery complications</a>.Seriously sick patients do need hospitalisation, oxygen or even ventilators, and modern medicine is good at saving lives. However, it is in boosting immunity, preventing infections and whole-body healing that natural herbal medicines serve an important function.“I do not treat Covid-19, but I do get a lot of patients who have recovered from the disease but continue to experience long-term symptoms,” says Piyush Bajracharya who runs an Ayurveda clinic in Patan. “And there are a lot of people who want to boost their immune system to protect themselves from the virus.”Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/the-good-doctor/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">The good doctor</a>, Lisa ChoegyalAyurveda has evolved over 3,000-years-old in the Subcontinent, and was recognised by the World Health Organistion at its Alma Ata conference in 1978. The Himalaya, and especially Nepal, is considered a rich repository of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-grass-is-greener-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">medicinal plants</a> – a belief enshrined in the Ramayana where Hanuman rips out an entire mountain when he could not find the exact herb to treat his master, Laxman, who was wounded in battle.“Modern medicine has its roots in our ancestral knowledge of plants and herbs, passed from one generation to another,” says noted physician Sundar Mani Dixit, adding that the most modern drugs in cardiology and painkillers are derived from the herbs with the Himalaya being the treasure trove of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/saving-the-treasure-trove-of-nepals-orchids/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">medicinal plants</a>.Expensive hospital bills and costly medicines with serious side effects in addition to the rise of new infections and lifestyle diseases have meant that patients and doctors are increasingly turning to natural plant-based treatment systems.There is now a <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S1756464620303959" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">growing body of research</a> that proves the efficacy of various medicinal herbs, the ingredients of Ayurveda, in the treatment of influenza, dengue, arthritis, herpes, inflammatory bowel diseases and coronaviruses. Many more plants and their formulations are proven immune enhancers.“Over the millennia our ancestors led a population oriented natural research in the laboratory of the world, but now scientific methods have polished and refined the development of these treatments,” adds Dixit.Despite being a seasoned allopathic practitioner, Dixit himself prescribes to his patients herbal formulations to modulate immune responses. They include Terminalia chebula (Harro), Moringa oleifera, (Nim, <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4296439/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Tulsi</a>), Piper longum (Pipli), Picrorhiza kurroa, (Kalmegha), black pepper, turmeric, Chirayita, Black elder, (Ashwagandha), Tinospora cordifolia (Gurjo) and Liquorice root (Jethimadhu).To be sure, Ayurveda has its limitations. It cannot cure specific conditions quickly as modern drugs do, and is more effective against primary diseases of the respiratory system and digestive tract such as cold and cough, flu, gastritis, indigestion, as well as allergies.It can also treat initial stages of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/why-do-so-many-nepalis-have-high-blood-pressure/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">blood pressure</a>, diabetes, cholesterol, triglyceride and liver diseases, as well as cancers specific to an organ not belonging to a system such as uterus or breast.There is also a common misconception that there are no side effects to Ayurveda medicines, but this is not true -- only multi-vitamins or supplements can be taken without consultation.“If you self-medicate without referring to the doctors on dosage and duration, chances are high that they will harm you, even if they are common kitchen spices, which has often been the case during this pandemic,” explains Piyush Bajracharya.This week at <a href="https://vaidyakhana.gov.np" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Singha Durbar Vaidyakhana</a>, the state-run Ayurveda outlet, the sales counter had run out of some of the more popular immune boosters like Chawanpras and Triphala because of an increase in demand for them since the pandemic.“It is a matter of further research whether traditional medicine directly inhibit Covid-19 infections, but they do increase one’s overall immunity and in case of an infection, people have less severe symptoms,” says Sabari Sah, head of the Singha Durbar Vaidyakhana.“After all, Ayurveda is a science of healthy living,” he adds. “If people follow the basic rules of a healthy diet, exercises and positive thinking, then more often than not you won’t fall sick.”<h2>Your friendly neighbourhood Baidya</h2><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141144/636d00c49c7e80680e0a35f5jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="350" height="263"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Yogendra Shrestha Baidya is the 23rd generation of traditional healers in his family. His training began at 10, when he started learning to find, grind and mix various herbs and spices in his ancestral home in Patan’s Sundhara neighbourhood.“We’ve continued the Baidya tradition for centuries, but I can’t see my children following in my footsteps,” says the 59-year-old, whose surname denotes his profession. “The times are changing even as the demand for our medicines has increased.”Ayurveda seems to be moving from the hands of traditional healers like the Baidya who passed their knowledge from one generation to the next, to trained Ayurveda professionals. It is not restricted to a particular clan anymore.Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/the-return-of-the-baidyas,1623" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">The return of the baidyas</a>, Sonia AwaleDuring the course of an hour-long conversation at his small shop stocked with his own herbal mixtures, and with the rich aroma of many herbs, Baidya got a call on his mobile from a father worried about his child’s dysentery. Next, a pharmaceutical agent dropped by for 20 bottles of digestive tablets.Three masked patients with various medical conditions waited on a bench for their Ayurveda mixtures to be prepared. One of them was a 66-years-old patient who had bicycled for one hour from Hatiban to get medicines for his digestive disorder. He also wanted a consultation for his wife who has high blood pressure and <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/diabetes-in-south-asia,3018" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">diabetes</a>.“She is tired of taking so many tablets, I thought we could switch to Nepali medicine,” he said. But Yogendra Shrestha Baidya advises him to have his wife continue using allopathic drugs. “Since you have already started on those medicines, it is not advisable to discontinue that.”https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=2&amp;v=apDiIbQMYhY&amp;feature=emb_logoThe new proliferation of herbal treatments and Ayurveda has also meant malpractice, people with fake credentials claiming to have a cure for chronic diseases have taken to social media to propagate them.The Nepal government now allows only certified professionals to operate Ayurveda clinics, but this also risks discouraging the Baidya clans where knowledge has been passed down through many generations of traditional healers.“We need policies to regulate the malpractices but I can’t go back to medical school now,” says Baidya, who is a botanist by education. “Genuine traditional healers should get to practice, I have the practical knowledge and I should be allowed to treat my community.”Sonia Awale

Sonia Awale

Medicine goes back to its roots

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110151120/636d08959c7e80680e0a6026jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"/><figcaption>The highly protected Pachale orchid bulbs in Gorkha. Photo: RESHU BASHYAL/GREENHOOD NEPAL</figcaption></figure>World Nature Conservation Day on 28 July is a reminder to us to conserve nature and nurture it. Too often, however, our visions of nature exclude plants and our rich relationship with them.Plants are everywhere, which makes them vital but also easy to overlook. They are often left in the background, both during public discourse and by government officials allocating conservation budgets. Conservation campaigns and projects tend to focus on <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepals-tiger-conservation-too-successful/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">charismatic animals like rhinos and tigers</a>, and on protecting Nepal’s spectacular landscapes.However, all of these animals and places rely on the plant life that surrounds us. This includes many rare, threatened, and unique plant species. Nowhere is this more urgent than with orchids – the most diverse groups of flowering plants on the planet with over 30,000 species globally.<a style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/saving-the-treasure-trove-of-nepals-orchids/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Nepal hosts over 500 species of orchids</a>, from the unusually shaped foxtail (Rhynchostylis) that grows on trees in the mountains, highly-protected pachaule (Dactylorhiza hatagirea) orchid known for its medicinal properties to the endangered lady slipper (Cypripedium himalaicum) collected for its shoe-shaped flowers.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110151120/636d08989c7e80680e0a6027jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>More than 100 of them have purported medicinal properties in Chinese, Ayurvedic, and Amchi traditional medicine cultures, ranging from pain relief to aphrodisiacs, and hence highly sought after. Many are also harvested as ornamental plants and as fodder for livestock. Orchids form a vital part of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/between-existence-and-extinction-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Nepal’s rich biodiversity</a>, but many communities also depend on them for livelihood.Nepal has a long history of harvesting and trading wild orchids -- supplying a significant amount of raw material to meet local and international demand both through legal and illegal means. Commercial trade is likely to increase as demand in China and India grows, especially as demand for medicinal plants increases in response to the Covid-19 pandemic.Now there is serious concern about the sustainability and legality of commercial harvesting. Reports suggest that intense collecting has led to the collapse of some populations, resulting in a national ban on the harvest of pachaule orchids in 1993.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110151120/636d089c9c7e80680e0a6028jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>A further ban on the wild harvest of many Nepali plant species - including all orchids - was introduced in 2017, although this is being relaxed in hopes of re-establishing a more sustainable legal harvest in future.Despite these efforts on paper to <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=5648#.YP6YQS2B2CQ" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">protect orchids from illegal trade</a>, in practice plant conservation is still often neglected. Orchids have made it into legislation, but often only on paper.Most poaching of wild orchids goes unreported. In Pokhara’s Panchase, harvesters from outside the community have even been using monkeys to gather valuable orchids from local forests.Of late, there have been seizures, including a 2017 case where more than 74kg of Nepal’s most highly protected orchid species were apprehended. There have been over 25 seizures of wild orchids since 2010, nearly half of them bound for China.Yet, seizures of protected plants are very rare and incidental. More often than not it is a case of the police spot-checking a truck or a bus and finding wild plants without permits. These seizures are only the tip of the iceberg, and are in <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=14348#.YP6Zty2B2CQ" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">stark contrast to huge investments and efforts deployed to protect threatened animal species</a>.Admittedly, however, our relationship with plants is often different from that we have with animals. Nepal has a long history of legal, regulated trade of many plants, especially medicinal species that are central to its culture, rural livelihoods, and exports. For example, wild spikenard roots are harvested under a strict quota system, and there are efforts to make this regulated trade more sustainable.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110151120/636d089f9c7e80680e0a6029jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Over the years, the government has issued many regulations, committing to both protecting orchids and also promoting sustainable harvests to enhance income generation of rural communities. This includes the 2013 ‘Orchid Harvest and Commercial Cultivation Directive’ which is being revisited with current amendments to the CITES Act 2017 that may soon allow for more sustainable, legal trade in the future.However, ensuring that the legal trade of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/rare-anti-cancer-tree-on-verge-of-extinction/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">wild plants</a> is sustainable requires more than careful management and oversight. Baseline research and regular monitoring are a must. As it is, even for the most sought after 10-15 orchid species, we have surprisingly little information on them, about their trade and distribution, and their numbers in the wild.There are still questions about making orchid trade more sustainable and profitable for local communities while stopping smuggling. Nepal has an opportunity to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/economic-benefits-of-saving-the-ecology/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">protect biodiversity</a> and enhance rural livelihood with benefits fairy distributed along value chains, but only through well-managed, legal sourcing.This is possible only if plant research and conservation are given their due priority. Orchids are found in our laws, in our forests, in our gardens, and in our medicines. This Nature Conservation Day let us commit to protecting them into the future and in the wild.Reshu Bashyal is Research Fellow at Greenhood Nepal.Jacob Phelps, PhD is co-Chair of the IUCN SSC Orchid Specialist Group, Global Trade Programme.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110151120/636d08a29c7e80680e0a602ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="89" height="103"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110151120/636d08a39c7e80680e0a602bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="89" height="103">

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Saving nature by protecting orchids

https://youtu.be/ZBGnZ7H7l_kThe yarsa gumba harvesting season this year coincides with the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/what-is-novel-about-the-novel-coronavirus/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">coronavirus scare</a>  and as rumours spread about its supposed medicinal properties, there could be a run on the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/overharvesting-yarsa-and-income,1546" target="_blank" rel="noopener">over-extracted Himalayan fungus</a> this year.Furthermore, with the spring trekking season wiped out by the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/global-thinking-and-local-action-on-coronavirus/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">COVID-19 epidemic</a>  local people dependent on tourism income will now have to fall back on <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=18321#.XnOPvS2B3-Y" target="_blank" rel="noopener">earnings from a fungus</a> that fetches high prices across the Himalaya in China.The highest-quality yarsa can fetch up to $70,000 per kg in China, and its collection each mid-May to mid-July can account for between 65% and 100% of a picker’s annual income. But the profits can be both a blessing and a curse.The additional income helps pay for food, education and support for aging parents, and donations to local monasteries. But the harvest season also brings an influx of tens of thousands of people each spring to Nepal’s fragile alpine ecosystem in a <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/yarsagumba-dispute-dolpa,1424" target="_blank" rel="noopener">stampede that looks like a gold rush</a>.Whole hillsides of slow-growing juniper are cut each year for fuel in Dolpo and Tibet, and there has been an increase in wildlife poaching, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/everest-fights-back/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">litter and garbage</a>  and free-range defecation. There has also been an increase in alcohol and drug consumption, conspicuous consumerism, the loss of traditional cultural values, violence, and even occasional murders.But here in <a href="https://nepalitimes.atavist.com/high-water" target="_blank" rel="noopener">the Barun Valley</a> the impact of the yarsa season is more benign due to closer engagement of the local community. The Barun is a beyul, a sacred valley blessed by Guru Rinpoche in the 8th century as a refuge for the faithful in times of stress. The landscape is dominated by the spectacular rock face of Shiva Danda, where three caves look like the eyes and nose of Lord Shiva. Each summer, pilgrims undertake the difficult and dangerous rock climb to the caves.There is also a pigmented cliff at Riphuk which pilgrims believe is a painting of a snow leopard by Guru Rinpoche. Ama Buchung is a rock massif in the shape of a pregnant woman, known for granting the gift of children to the devout. There is also the sacred Seto Pokhari glacial lake near Mt Makalu base camp.The main difference between the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19381#.XnOPwi2B3-Y" target="_blank" rel="noopener">yarsa harvesting season</a> in the Barun and in western Nepal is terrain. While much of the yarsa in Dolpo are on rolling high-altitude meadows, in the Barun the fungus grows upon precipitous slopes dropping thousands of metres to the valleys below.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101152/636b792c9c7e80680e0646e9jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="960" height="720"/>Mt Makalu (8,485m) towers over the sacred Seto Pokhari glacial lake.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101152/636b792f9c7e80680e0646eajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1080" height="608">Young yarsa harvesters comb the slopes high above the Barun River. Photo: TSERING SHERPAConversations with Makalu-Barun National Park officials, lodge owners, yarsa middlemen and harvesters showed that there are about 3,000 people who come to collect the fungus here every spring. Unlike in other regions in Nepal, they do not leave behind much trash, carry in their own fuelwood, and cannot remember any violence.Sherpa families from Tashigaon have been camping and harvesting yarsa here for years. Young men from Seduwa sleep in teahouses in the Valley and hike up 1,500m to the meadows each morning to pick yarsa. There are laughing school children on holiday, and everyone seems to have a good time.The main reason for the peaceful, non-competitive atmosphere is that the quality and value of yarsa in the Makalu-Barun region is not as high as that from Tibet or Dolpo. In 2016, a kilogram of Makalu yarsa fetched only $4,800 from the local middleman, as compared to $21,120 for the famously large, yellowish, and pungent smelling Dolpo yarsa.Furthermore, instead of representing up to 90% of a family’s income as it does in Dolpo, yarsa harvests here yield the same income as portering, raising livestock, lodge management or work at Makalu Base Camp that paid $20 per day. With the collapse of trekking this season, however, there could be more pressure.In the Barun Valley, yarsa has been just one more source of income in an already diversified economy. Income from yarsa has just not been worth fighting over.More importantly, villagers, the Buffer Zone Council, and the local government have developed a system to manage yarsa harvests that is fair and equitable.As a result the stunningly beautiful but fragile Barun Valley ecosystem remains largely undisturbed and intact.<h2>Yarsa gumba merchandise</h2><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101156/636b79319c7e80680e0646ebjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1034" height="522"><a style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/regulation-of-yarsa,1547" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Products containing yarsa gumba extracts</a> have become increasingly popular due to the fungus' purported health benefits. Yarsa is known to some by the nickname ‘Himalayan viagra’, and most commercial products that make use of it emphasise anti-aging and libido-inducing qualities. In China yarsa is even added to whiskey and cigarettes.Yu Chun Mei Cordyceps is a China-made skin cream (above, left) that claims to fight skin-ageing and eliminate wrinkles, black spots and pimples. The day-and-night cream claims to be made from 100% natural ingredients and is sold in various countries in Asia.Probably the most widely found product to use yarsa gumba extract is tea made from the fungus, of which the varieties are many (above, right). Manufacturers of the teas claim that they treat fatigue, sickness, kidney disease and low sex drive.Some bars in Kathmandu serve aged aila infused with yarsa gumba, which gives the spirit a tangy aroma that competes with the smell of the alcohol. A manufacturer in Nepal even markets yarsa gumba capsules as a ‘health supplement.’<h2>YARSA-NOMICS</h2><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101156/636b79349c7e80680e0646ecjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2144" height="580">Yarsa gumba has been used by the Chinese for hundreds of years to treat a variety of illnesses, and its more recent reputation as an aphrodisiac has added greatly to its marketability. Wealthy Chinese also use it in soups and tea as a status symbol when serving favored guests.Yarsa gumba, translated from the Tibetan as ‘summer grass winter worm’, carries the scientific name Ophiocordyceps sinensis. It is one of the most valuable medicinal fungi in the world and grows in Himalayan valleys above 4,000m from western India to Nepal, Tibet, and Bhutan.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101156/636b79379c7e80680e0646edjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="438" height="582"><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101156/636b79389c7e80680e0646eejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>There are more than 200 species of Cordyceps (short for Ophiocordyceps) fungus worldwide, and in Nepal they parasitise the bodies of ghost-moth larva that live on the roots of alpine wildflowers found high up in summer yak pastures.Once contact with the larva is made, the fungus remains dormant for about four years, after which it begins to slowly consume the larva’s insides, leaving behind a shell that looks like a mummified caterpillar. The little mummy larva then slowly shifts its body to point upward toward the surface, after which a black ‘stromata’ grows from its forehead and emerges as a fruiting body 4cm long.It takes sharp eyes to find these pointed, black, stem-like mushrooms, and young children, with their keen eyesight and low proximity to the ground, are by far the most successful collectors. The stromata is ever-so-carefully pulled upward using forefinger and thumb to reveal the entire yarsa gumba body, which is then cleaned, dried, and stored in cloth bags.According to anthropologist Geoff Childs, the introduction of yarsa gumba harvesting since legalised by the Nepal Government in 2001 has ‘…contributed to economic and environmental transformations across the Tibetan Plateau and Himalayan region...than any development scheme could envision’.Alton C Byers, PhD is a mountain geographer at the Institute of Arctic and Alpine Research, (INSTAAR) University of Colorado at Boulder. In the mid-1990s, he worked as co-manager of the newly formed Makalu-Barun National Park. His recent paper on yarsa gumba harvesting in the Barun Valley is published in the journal Himalaya (v. 39, number 2)

It's yarsa-picking time

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;

traditional-medicine