The 208th group of 21 American Peace Corps volunteers arrived in Nepal last month, the first since the Covid evacuation. Nearly 4,000 young Americans have served in Nepal since 1962. But the new volunteers will find a very different country from what their predecessors experienced nearly 60 years ago. Excerpts of diary entries of Daniel W Edwards after he flew into Kathmandu in October 1966 and walked to Dhading district where he taught at a village school for one and a half years.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230707210716_aed0dfa93dce52e1e570c5767b470d084dcfafb3ba501002deb4e62899c250e4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20230707210716_aed0dfa93dce52e1e570c5767b470d084dcfafb3ba501002deb4e62899c250e4" data-rendition-name="original" width="995" height="1523" loading="lazy" alt="Dhading 1966 NT"><figcaption>Long before Instagram were Rs1 Aerogrammes which took 2 weeks to reach America from Dhading.</figcaption></figure>  17 October The day of departure from Kathmandu to Dhading was inauspicious. I awoke at 3AM with “intestinal disturbances”, managed breakfast, and by the time Peace Corps regional director Al Dieffenbach appeared at 9:00, I decided to consult the doctor before leaving. We had loaded my gear into the jeep station wagon and had driven into the Snow View Hotel in Lazimpat when the clutch gave out. I grabbed my medical kit and hurried back to bed. Then came the chills and fever. I felt quite sick and had a colleague summon the doctor. He was a long time in coming, but in the meantime I was bothered by a solicitous but an overbearing Anglo-Indian woman who ran the hotel. Al returned and said the trip was scrubbed for the day. The doc believed I had a virus, not dysentery. I was moved upstairs to a “sick ward”, and the fever was 102.6. Finally managed some sleep about 4:30PM. A well-dressed gent stopped by to check on me at 8:30. I returned to bed with more drugs and wondered what tomorrow would bring. 18 October I woke up at 6:15, felt much better, and heard a truck outside trying unsuccessfully to start. A delegation of volunteers was leaving by plane that morning. The struggles of the truck seemed amusing, until it dawned on me that the same truck was likely the one I and Butch Amundson would need. That was the case. At 8:30 Al showed up … still the truck would not start. So finally a USAID jeep pickup came out, we drove to the PC office to load up and set out about 11:00. Alas, just as we were leaving town at 25mph, a great shimmy commenced toward the front of the vehicle, as if the wheels were about to come off. Back to the PC office, then to AID headquarters at Rabi Bhawan to exchange vehicles. Another jeep wagoneer, we drove to the Embassy to fill the tank. There I noticed the right front tire had a nice hole in the tread. After lunch at Mr Wong’s Peace Restaurant in Lazimpat, we again set sail, piled high with baggage. We passed Balaju and headed up a winding dirt road through a beautifully green landscape. About 15 miles out, at Ranipauwa located at 6,000 feet at the top of the pass, while pulling over to let a truck pass, there was a loud bang: our left rear tire had exploded. Butch went back to Kathmandu in an old 1940 passenger touring car when we discovered our spare tire likewise had a large hole in the tread, the jeep also had no jack.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230707210720_3651f682e22d3ab64a4c0a7143152dd921eae82589b6061ca5d39772cac255e1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20230707210720_3651f682e22d3ab64a4c0a7143152dd921eae82589b6061ca5d39772cac255e1" data-rendition-name="original" width="900" height="296" loading="lazy" alt="Dhading 1966 NT"><figcaption>View of Tinkune and Kathmadu from a plane about to land in 1972 (left) and at present (right).</figcaption></figure>  Butch subsequently told us that a woman in the car (which was carrying 9 or 10 people) became ill and vomited in the back seat. The car ran out of gas outside Kathmandu, so Butch walked the rest of the way into the city. We had a nice dal bhat dinner at Ranipauwa and bedded down inside a shop that turned out to be an all-night cigarette-concession stand. When there was no knocking from without, the old lady was singing from within to a small child. Promptly at 4AM an inconsiderate rooster started crowing, a goat started bleating, and the woman and child began an unintelligible conversation. At 6:00 I got up to see the mountains, but it was still cloudy. Gradually the clouds broke, and the majestic Ganesh Himal loomed pinkish in the sky. Then a group of three or four summits appeared in the clear air. By 11:00 we were getting restless, when another AID jeep finally appeared. Butch had brought three tires, so two tires were changed, the old jeep reloaded, and we set off down toward Trisuli. There were sharp drops to the right and the terrain was such that the road went in and around all the hills. Trisuli was hot and we stopped at volunteer Allen Lundberg’s comfortable house by the side of the river. Saw the newly opened hospital with an x-ray machine just installed. Plus the hydroelectric plant and a row of bright lights around the generators in the middle of rural Nepal. 20 October Al left early returning to Kathmandu. We searched for porters, but as Dasain had just started, not even one was available. We looked at the school, the bazar and decided to set out on the morrow for Dhading, for it seemed very indefinite (“bholi parsi”) when we could get porters. Another volunteer teacher in Trisuli, “Mr. Bob” had taught all his students to say “Howdy” so as I walked through the bazar, kids kept calling out “Howdy” to me.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230707210724_83b6a39c3c22edb8758e8b3d336542af3d1fd729fb4eb044d9ae273d3f6903f2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20230707210724_83b6a39c3c22edb8758e8b3d336542af3d1fd729fb4eb044d9ae273d3f6903f2" data-rendition-name="original" width="612" height="410" loading="lazy" alt="Dhading 1966 NT"><figcaption>The Peace Corps Volunteer (PCV) office in Kathmandu.</figcaption></figure>  21 October Four of us, two Trisuli volunteers, Butch and I set out. About four miles out of town we crossed the Trisuli River via cable and bucket (tuin), my Kelty backpack and I lurching out across the river and being transported to the opposite shore by a man pulling a rope. The Trishuli volunteers turned back and shortly thereafter, we came to a good-sized stream with no apparent bridge to cross. In retrospect we already had lost the right trail. As it was, every ten minutes or so there were forks in the path going in two or three directions. We guessed the route which led along the river. Asking directions was of little help, because we always got in reply a stream of (to us) unintelligible Nepali accompanied by vague gestures. Someone would say Dhading was four kos distant (eight miles), while hours later someone else would say six kos (12 miles) remained. So we just kept walking. We definitely were going the round-about way: we waded across streams, tramped through front yards of houses, and walked between rice paddies, balancing on narrow strips of earth which separated the levels of the fields. We meandered along a footpath that was at the top of a steep river bank, which was fast eroding away. We followed the river a long time, steadily losing elevation before turning up into the hills. We reached the top of the closest ridge, but Butch’s knee was giving him trouble, and as it was nearly 3:00, we dropped down to a stream and rested. There we met a fellow who told us we could not reach Dhading until the next morning, but he (kind soul!) would take us to the village we had seen from the first ridge.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230707210732_69b1bf6a68ef97029be44b2192d987e455c974a20546d54d3ec429a347da7136.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20230707210732_69b1bf6a68ef97029be44b2192d987e455c974a20546d54d3ec429a347da7136" data-rendition-name="original" width="1066" height="798" loading="lazy" alt="Dhading 1966 NT"><figcaption>Sunaula Bazar, the headquarters of Dhading District in 1966.</figcaption></figure>  Dada-Gaun (village on the hill) was its name, and we were led into a yard. On the front porch sat a grizzled-looking man who puffed on his hookah and listened stoically while our guide explained our predicament. Soon was brought out what I think was dahi (curd), but the PC doc had hammered into our heads the rules not to eat anything raw that hadn’t been peeled or to drink liquids that hadn’t been boiled or water that at least was treated with tincture of iodine. While I was trying to explain why we couldn’t accept the dahi although we greatly appreciated the gesture, I remembered my package of biscuits and promptly passed them around. Butch brought out cigarettes, and then it turned out that bhat was available. But what a sight it was: a dirty white most unappetising-looking mass and served with it, goat’s meat in bony chunks with hair liberally floating around in a brass bowl. But we were hungry and ate most of it with our fingers. By this time quite a crowd had gathered, and all were frankly curious and speculating who we were and why we were there. I doubted the women and young girls had ever seen two tall white guys, certainly never in their small village. Taking out my razor and small mirror, I decided to shave, and that created quite a spectacle. I saw a very elaborate Dasain swing (ping) under construction, which had been nicely designed. About 8:30 I bedded down in my sleeping bag with a wad of cloths for a pillow on our host’s front porch. 22 October Managed to swallow a little more of that cold, unsightly food and departed at 8:00. Our impression that we could reach Dhading in two hours turned out to be sadly mistaken. Noticed some huge spiders in webs along the trail. Then we began to climb. After ascending that ridge, we followed the contours of the hills, going round and round and sometimes up, sometimes down. It was a beautiful valley, but fatigue and weakness were having their effects. By noon we had waded across a spectacular cascading stream, gone into a village only to backtrack and head up yet another hill. We really felt done in by now, and rest stops were becoming longer and more frequent. About 1:30 we were about to fade out when, at an iodine-flavored water stop, another Nepali, taking pity on us, gave us some oranges and boiled milk, a great lift to morale and typical of the generosity Nepalis show to foreigners about whom they know nothing. Up the last ridge we struggled, then to see down below our destination at last: Dhading Bazar. There, a contingent of the curious stared at us as we reached the one and only unpaved street, and we were taken to the headmaster’s place. Soon Mr Badri appeared, a youthful and good-looking fellow, 22 years old, still intending to finish his BA. He had almost given up hope, as I was three days late, yet expecting my arrival, he had not gone to his home in Baglung for Dasain.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230707210724_5a9a0b8c5877736648bd0c673d4ee0379b3fb7af02bec0befcf271e81879ad2f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20230707210724_5a9a0b8c5877736648bd0c673d4ee0379b3fb7af02bec0befcf271e81879ad2f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1063" height="792" loading="lazy" alt="Dhading 1966 NT"><figcaption>The author Daniel W Edwards in front of the school building in Dhading in 1966.</figcaption></figure>  [Update: Two months later, Mr Badri left the village in the dead of night (“Bhagyo” I was told) with a Grade 7 girl. I never saw him again. Nepal had lots of surprises in store for us!] My energy restored by a fairly good meal, I set off for the temple [Bhairavsthan] on top of the hill. A good steep climb, and what a sight upon arriving. A couple of hundred people (including many Magar dressed in their festive best) were crowded on that knoll anticipating the animal sacrifices. In short order a goat, water buffalo, and several small pigs were beheaded as offerings to Durga. So this is “culture shock” I thought, while watching this amazing ritual. Not five months before, I was living on a beautiful university campus in northern California, with no knowledge of such happenings on the other side of the world. Mr. Badri gave us a full account in English of the history of the temple and its gods, and he wanted to make sure we had a good view of all the blood-letting. On the way back to the bazar, I was introduced to a few local dignitaries, who greeted the new foreign teacher respectfully. Then to bed in an attic across from the shop where Mr. Badri stayed.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230707210728_4e50bd8b1895dba1145ace6620b60db6cf86fc485eb88a10e9e187aff9e389f4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20230707210728_4e50bd8b1895dba1145ace6620b60db6cf86fc485eb88a10e9e187aff9e389f4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1067" height="795" loading="lazy" alt="Dhading 1966 NT"><figcaption>The temple where animal sacrifices were made, with Ganesh Himal in the distance. It came down in the 2015 earthquake.</figcaption></figure>  23 October Went over the hill for morning tea with Mr Sharma, the Sanskrit and Nepali teacher and former headmaster. Watched the men play cards, the family puja ceremony at which tika were put on their foreheads, and then sat down in the middle of the courtyard amidst hundreds of flies to lunch. The food wasn’t bad, though a lot of uncooked stuff gave me pause, but nothing I was served was wasted, as a goat finished off whatever was left on my plate. In the afternoon I began reading English Philosophy Since 1900 which had no relevance to my current situation in Nepal, but in my pack I had brought only that one book, no language material and one change of clothes. It was dark by shortly after 6:00, strange to see no lights. I am writing this account by kerosene light. A young boy, Shiba, began cooking for us. Got him to wash his hands, but of course we can’t clean or prepare food the way we’d like to. The only thing we can do is to put iodine drops into our water bottles and wait 30 minutes before drinking. It’s a wonder we don’t get sick, though this morning my stomach is a bit uneasy. Back of our place is a stream and a hill, which is the communal latrine for men. Roving domestic animals nearby add their contributions as well. 24 October Woke up very sore. The wooden bench I slept on was flat and hard. Only a thin straw mat for a mattress. I have no international 1-rupee aerograms with me, so can’t catch up on my US correspondence. Mr. Badri expects living quarters will be found in a few days (“bholi parsi”), but local porters to go to Trisuli and bring my luggage will not be available for a couple of days.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230707210740_2517c3f7b04eae67526268652d02017156878917c44c3bf0ddb92af0efa6e854.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20230707210740_2517c3f7b04eae67526268652d02017156878917c44c3bf0ddb92af0efa6e854" data-rendition-name="original" width="1065" height="822" loading="lazy" alt="Dhading 1966 NT"><figcaption>Grade 4 students in English language class. It was warmer and quieter in the open.</figcaption></figure>  In the afternoon I went to see the school. Well, what can you say! From the outside it has a nice appearance—newly constructed walls of stone and mud and a slate roof. But inside there is virtually nothing. One section has three classrooms and an office. There is a walled partition in between, about seven feet high, not extending to the ceiling. On the dirt floor rest a few worn benches. I ended up teaching outside on a level plot of ground away from the school, since it was impossible to teach over the din of chanting students in the school building. The school office contains a few old maps, charts, three small portable blackboards, a table, a few chairs, and a carrom board which provides teachers entertainment. I was sitting there trying to digest the situation before me, as the breezes blew through the glass-less windows (no doors either). The other section of the building has no partitions—it’s like a big shed, with 70 first and second class students at one end, the third-through-fifth students at the other. The attendance figures I was first given turned out to be grossly exaggerated. Apparently many students registered but few attended regularly. Perhaps 20 first and second graders were present on any given day. My Grade 8 class had only seven or eight regular attendees. There were very few girl students.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230707210736_06a2db0d7d865c23d2498616b5a65843380bddcbb974ab77db2eb4b41de4ae64.png" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20230707210736_06a2db0d7d865c23d2498616b5a65843380bddcbb974ab77db2eb4b41de4ae64" data-rendition-name="original" width="677" height="399" loading="lazy" alt="Dhading 1966 NT"><figcaption>The author in 1966 at the Bhairavi School in Dhading built with volunteer labour.  </figcaption></figure>  Mr Badri also mentioned a local faction that opposes the school, fearing that their own interests would somehow be threatened. As it is, Badri has received no salary for some time, and the government is supposed to provide the school only Rs2,000 rupees a year. The rest of the budget must be met by student fees and contributions. My work as an English teacher is definitely cut out for me. 28 October Four porters, carrying our suitcases, a few supplies and PC-issued goods in their doko, arrived from Trisuli. I paid them a total of 70 rupees; Butch had given 10 rupees advance in Trisuli. Each porter thus earned 20 rupees for carrying a load from noon the day before until this evening for one and a half day’s work.

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Dhading Journal 1966

<figure><img width="960" height="720" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141132/636cfdc59c7e80680e0a0c02jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Suman Thapa conducting an eye examination on a patient at Chaurjhari Hospital in Rukum, where EK Ek Paila is working with the local government. Photos: EK EK PAILA</figcaption></figure>It is the aftermath of disasters that <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/lockdown-brings-out-the-best-in-nepalis/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">bring out the best among Nepalis</a>. And so it was after the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/reviewing-lessons-of-the-2015-nepal-earthquake/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">2015 earthquake</a>, volunteer groups sprang up spontaneously and organised relief through social media.Among them was a loosely structured group of like-minded Nepalis who used their medical expertise to provide emergency help to areas destroyed by the earthquakes. But while many such volunteer groups faded away, the volunteers continued to expand their work — calling themselves Ek Ek Paila (one step at a time).“After seeing the devastation in 2015, I thought it’d be best to use my expertise to provide medical help and do more rather than just provide relief,” says <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=11828#.YSRhqS8w3u0" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Suman Thapa</a>, an ophthalmologist who helped set up Ek Ek Paila.  Now, with the pandemic, Ek Ek Paila has been trying to bring health services to parts of Nepal which have rudimentary medical care even at the best of times. “After hearing about infected people having virtually no access to Covid-19 treatment in rural areas where we had previously held health camps, we created a Covid Health Package and took it to them,” Thapa adds.<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/rural-nepal-fights-back-covid-19/">Rural Nepal fights back Covid-19</a>, Masta KC <figure><img width="1000" height="745" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141132/636cfdc89c7e80680e0a0c03jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The package consists of medication, relevant information, and a direct hotline to volunteer doctors to answer any questions they might have about symptoms, tests and vaccines. The demand for the packages has now snowballed, with local governments in more districts approaching for help. Ek Ek Paila raised Rs7 million for the distribution of the Covid Health Packages — all from local donations. In fact, that is what makes the non-profit different from most other charities in Nepal, it relies almost completely on donations from Nepalis. “If foreigners and international organisations want to donate to Ek Ek Paila, we do not say no,” Thapa explains. “But 99% of the funding for Ek Ek Paila comes from local donors.” The fact that Thapa is also an accomplished musician, and a lead guitarist in the band ‘The Blue Fret’ helps with fund-raising concerts. “I had always wanted to be a musician, and being a doctor was actually the next best thing for me,” admits Thapa, grinning through his mask during a recent interview at Ek Ek Paila’s new Community Health Centre in Kathmandu.Ek Ek Paila had a humble start after the earthquake six years ago. Thapa contacted some friends and found fellow doctors who committed to spending one weekend a month for a year to provide medical care to <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/kundadixit/2015/05/18/survivors-help-survivors/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">survivors</a> in remote villages <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/langtang-copes-with-quake-and-covid/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">badly hit by the earthquakes</a>. In the first year alone, Ek Ek Paila organised 12 health camps in Sindhupalcok, Dolakha, and other districts. <figure><img width="1000" height="707" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141132/636cfdcb9c7e80680e0a0c04jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Nepal’s mountainous terrain has posed a <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/environmental-destruction-is-a-medical-emergency/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">significant challenge in health care delivery</a>, made worse by government neglect and poor governance, and exacerbated during crises like the earthquake and pandemic.   All medical professionals who volunteered at health camps paid for their own trips, equipment, and even for the medicine that they prescribed. But after the 12 health camps, the regular volunteers decided to officially register Ek Ek Paila, creating a Nepali-driven and funded organisation to expand its services. Today, volunteer doctors and medical personnel also perform surgeries, including <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepals-far-sighted-eye-care/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">complex eye operations</a>, in rural health camps and carry more equipment with them, increasing diagnostic accuracy. Ek Ek Paila’s camps have become mobile primary health care centres.   <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/this-is-how-to-upgrade-nepals-rural-health/">This is how to upgrade Nepal’s rural health</a>, Sewa Bhattarai “What has made our work easier despite the political paralysis in Kathmandu is that with federalism, local governments are empowered and collaborate in holding health camps,” says Thapa, who has experience with rural health camps organised by <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times%20Buzz/sanduk%C2%ADruit%C2%ADtilganga,2574" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Sanduk Ruit</a> of the Tilganga Institute of Ophthalmology.  Local governments top up the donations from the Ek Ek Paila members themselves and other local funding to run the camps. They provide Ek Ek Paila teams of 30 or so people with accommodation and two meals a day. They also help organise the space in which the health program is conducted and help disseminate information.  <figure><img width="1000" height="705" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141132/636cfdcf9c7e80680e0a0c05jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Ek Ek Paila also collaborates with other non-profits like Sparsha Nepal and the ear-nose-throat surgery specialists, Impact Nepal. Ek Ek Paila’s new non-profit Community Health Centre in Thapathali provides affordable health care to those who cannot afford hospital fees. With the flow of patients increasing, and the challenge of making the centre sustainable a tier system for small consultation fees subsidises free treatment for those who cannot afford it.The Community Health Centre was funded through private donations, including the building itself which belongs to one of the founding members. Overhead costs are low because medical personnel all volunteer their services. Besides the vital service it provides, Ek Ek Paila has also led by example to foster <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/youth-led-feeding-campaign-spreads-across-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">volunteerism and philanthropy among Nepali </a>individuals and companies. Foreseeing the<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/vaccines-variants-and-a-third-wave/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer"> third wave</a>, Ek Ek Paila is expanding its Covid Health Packages to reach more people in hard-to-reach places. The non-profit also is in talks to manage primary health centres in Jajarkot and Sindhupalchok districts. Says Thapa: “Ek Ek Paila has brought Nepalis together from all walks of life, it has helped people in need of affordable health care and given donors and volunteers a sense of satisfaction for having contributed. As for me, this is the most fulfilling thing I have done in my life.”To donate to <a href="https://www.ekekpaila.org/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Ek Ek Paila</a>: <a href="https://www.ekekpaila.org/page/5/donate" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">https://www.ekekpaila.org/page/5/donate</a>

Step by step for rural health care in Nepal

<img width="926" height="542" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111015118/636d05e09c7e80680e0a5f31jpeg.jpg" alt=""/>The viral <a href="https://twitter.com/srp_dr31/status/1405138726280257541" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://twitter.com/srp_dr31/status/1405138726280257541&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1625456264343000&amp;usg=AFQjCNHRREcHPOFf9HgKJ22JoX0eehSeNw">video of health workers in Mustang</a> passing a box of vaccines across a rain-swollen river was a rare instance in the media of Nepalis helping Nepalis during the pandemic. Usually, on Twitter and other social media platforms, what we see are posts from Kathmandu airport of yet another consignment of medical material donated by country X or by a global organisation Y with the health minister of the day posing with diplomats.In that video from Mustang, a <a href="https://english.onlinekhabar.com/the-behind-the-scenes-story-of-a-video-that-earned-nepal-health-workers-global-praises.html" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://english.onlinekhabar.com/the-behind-the-scenes-story-of-a-video-that-earned-nepal-health-workers-global-praises.html&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1625456264343000&amp;usg=AFQjCNFgsXHa1a2nESqpbs-gvdlOlsh1HA">health centre driver stood on one riverbank</a> fearful of crossing the raging torrent and slid a metal rod through the handle of a box of Covid-19 vaccines. Then, with the help of a passer-by, he forwarded the box to another health worker on the opposite side. The video was <a href="https://twitter.com/DrTedros/status/1405632083276570631" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://twitter.com/DrTedros/status/1405632083276570631&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1625456264343000&amp;usg=AFQjCNF3oRSHM8MG0hB59G_jsAvR-aiuvA">retweeted by WHO Chief Dr. Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus</a>, who praised the workers. <blockquote>This is how far <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/healthworkers?src=hash&amp;ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#healthworkers</a> go to save lives. Is it fair that in many places these heroes have still not been vaccinated? It is in our power and our duty to do everything we can to deliver <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/VaccinEquity?src=hash&amp;ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#VaccinEquity</a>! If not now, when?<a href="https://t.co/Dm1YVbc9uB">https://t.co/Dm1YVbc9uB</a>— Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus (@DrTedros) <a href="https://twitter.com/DrTedros/status/1405632083276570631?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">June 17, 2021</a></blockquote> Foreign assistance to help Nepal cope with the pandemic is of course positive (lack of vaccines aside) because the Nepal government has simply been unable to meet demands for oxygen, hospital beds and medical supplies. Yet, Nepalis know better than anyone that the mutual aid response we are witnessing during Covid-19 is nothing new: family, friends, neighbours, and others, spring to action annually when the monsoon unleashes landslides and floodwaters, and after other disasters like the 2015 earthquakes.Following flooding in Saptari district in 2017 ‘the response of the western international system (the UN and INGOs) played only a minor role, accounting for around a sixth of the resources that affected households said they received,’ <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/volunteers-to-the-rescue-in-nepals-flood-season/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/volunteers-to-the-rescue-in-nepals-flood-season/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1625455520200000&amp;usg=AFQjCNFjC7u3KYFO4ez_4evUOXxteOJRXA">concluded a 2019 report</a>. ‘A third (of aid) came from family, neighbours and landlords, the government, the diaspora or community-based organisations, including in-kind items such as shelter, food, cooking stoves and fuels. Another quarter was from other countries, with China reported as the main source, and Nepali NGOs, particularly the Nepali Red Cross, accounted for a fifth,’ added the study. That report opened my eyes to the regular outpouring of humanitarian assistance from family, neighbours and governments at all levels, which is exemplified by civil society’s activities during Covid-19, and which happens almost immediately when disasters strike. Recently I decided to try and open the eyes of others, both inside and outside of Nepal, to this reality. With editor Srawan Shrestha we contacted groups on an unofficial list of Nepali organisations providing Covid relief and asked them to submit video clips of their work—providing hot meals and food packs to the hungry, handing out information flyers, masks and other protective equipment, building quarantine centres, etc.  <img width="844" height="542" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111015118/636d05e39c7e80680e0a5f32jpeg.jpg" alt=""><img width="940" height="538" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111015118/636d05e59c7e80680e0a5f33jpeg.jpg" alt=""><img width="936" height="539" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111015118/636d05eb9c7e80680e0a5f34jpeg.jpg" alt="">Luckily, more than enough groups responded, and we put together this short video in English and Nepali that we hope will help to change the perception about who is helping who when it comes to humanitarian assistance in Nepal.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepals-local-governments-lead-from-the-front/">Nepal’s local governments lead from the front</a>, Masta KC

Nepal’s homegrown Covid heroes

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

Life in a time of cholera

As someone born and raised in Patan, I knew that the city was rich in art, architecture and intangible heritage. But I never realised just how rich, and how little I knew about its hidden treasures until this book. Yala Mhasika/Exploring Lalitpur/Lalitpurko Chinari is published by the Lalitpur Chamber of Commerce &amp; Industry and introduces the city to the world, as well as to its own inhabitants. Lalitpur is popularly known as Patan, probably because of the pastures for livestock in its outskirts. Its original name in Nepal Bhasa is Yala, and is a blend of urban and rural, old and new.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260101120152_700fb4c7b27d78813f69347846403c492cd1d54e2f62e4ec097013714c4a2022.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260101120152_700fb4c7b27d78813f69347846403c492cd1d54e2f62e4ec097013714c4a2022" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="Exploring Lalitpur book review"> <figcaption>Patan Dhoka</figcaption> </figure>  Like other kingdoms in the valley of Swoniga, the dense urban cluster of houses, temples, monasteries were situated along the higher ground, while the farmlands were on the slopes leading to the rivers below. This unique townscape combined an urban lifestyle within a distinctly agriculture-based rural setting. The fertile soil, replenished by organic nutrients washed down from the streets above, as well as Kathmandu’s location on the ancient trade route between India and Tibet, provided the Valley’s kingdoms with prosperity – and thus the flourishing of art and culture over centuries. Most of Yala’s residents were farmers, traders, or artisans. Chinese visitors who came to Nepal in the 6th century saw that there were more traders than farmers, and more temples than houses. An entire street is inhabited by the descendants of Lhasa traders. Arniko is supposed to have been born in Yala.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260101120152_0fb490355fac9b8252c9abfbf5ef1bbac844b29103744a421eb6ef6dbc77dff7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260101120152_0fb490355fac9b8252c9abfbf5ef1bbac844b29103744a421eb6ef6dbc77dff7" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1332" loading="lazy" alt="Exploring Lalitpur book review"> <figcaption>Kwonti area which houses five-storey Kumbeshwar temple dedicated to Shiva and Baglamukhi temple dedicated to Dasa Mahavidya shakti peeth.</figcaption> </figure>  Nepal exported goods and even minted coins for Tibet, and had a virtual monopoly of the major trans-Himalayan trade routes. This prosperity was reflected in monuments and shrines like the Kwa Baha Golden Temple. More so than the other three kingdoms of Swoniga, architecture flourished in Yala making it the centre for metal, stone and wood craft. The name Lalitpur means ‘city of fine art’ but with its sense of community, it might as well be a city of fine living. Legend also has it that the name Lalitpur comes from a farmer called Lalit who helped bring the rain god Karunamaya from Assam when the Valley was suffering a prolonged drought. Lalit’s shoulder beam stands to this day in Jhatapol. Disasters, invasion and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/life-in-a-time-of-cholera">epidemics</a> were a recurring theme in Patan.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260101120152_b33b1024cb7a46f49fea35ecc9afa2740895907059d7a43c8bd6c463b1be05e7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260101120152_b33b1024cb7a46f49fea35ecc9afa2740895907059d7a43c8bd6c463b1be05e7" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="Exploring Lalitpur book review"> <figcaption>Ajima of Haugal Tole which is the oldest stone scripture in Nepal with the Gaja Laxmi in Chyasal.</figcaption> </figure>  The book was put together by the heritage expert team of Rosha Bajracharya, Sunil Pandey and Anil Chitrakar and provides a socio-economic and political history of Patan – how it was always food surplus, thanks to sustainable farming until recently. Ground and drone images by Photo Venture Nepal in the book give us a rare new perspective on Patan. There is an entire chapter on the chariot festival of Karunamaya (Machhindranath), a community-managed festival with Barahi carpenters assembling the woodwork, vine engineers Yamva weaving rope and rattan for the 25m tall chariot, and Ghaku drivers controlling the speed and brakes as the structure rolls through narrow streets in the annual festival.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260101120152_d27b23aeb4548b0b64ab8ed20f40baa331060498c6b5443e2cb999b876c670af.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260101120152_d27b23aeb4548b0b64ab8ed20f40baa331060498c6b5443e2cb999b876c670af" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="Exploring Lalitpur book review"> <figcaption>Te Bahal in Patan which houses Karunamaya six months a year.</figcaption> </figure>  WALKING, WORSHIPPING The book can help in exploring Patan along five routes starting in Patan Dhoka, Pulchok, Shankhamul, Mahaboudha and Lagankhel with maps and details of the baha and bahil, shrines, ponds, open spaces, dhyochenn, courtyards and phalcha along the way. Because of its coffee-table size and heft, however, the guidebook is not practical to carry around. And despite detailed descriptions of the past and present of each site, readers are left wanting to know more about those places. It is proof of Patan’s vast treasures that even this book barely scratches the surface.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260101120152_31a597b7dc1bcc9f67b4f6a66b8c1c0e0a9406727389699e6aed9ac6c3c50901.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20260101120152_31a597b7dc1bcc9f67b4f6a66b8c1c0e0a9406727389699e6aed9ac6c3c50901" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1332" loading="lazy" alt="Exploring Lalitpur book review"> <figcaption>Patukodom where visitors can view what remains of the ancient Kirant palace.</figcaption> </figure>  Some of the lesser-known must-visit sites include Patukodom which is all that remains of a palace of the original Kirat inhabitants of Patan. An archaeological dig here would surely unearth hitherto unknown facets of pre-Newa Patan. Then there are the slightly out of the way shrines like Mahabouha, a replica of a temple in Bodhgaya which houses 3,341 terracotta Buddhas with 90 big statues and which took 35 years and four generations to complete.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260101120152_ffb657dc254f707dc1755f6f13b1ef67bb7183b6573da9678c54482129fb3878.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20260101120152_ffb657dc254f707dc1755f6f13b1ef67bb7183b6573da9678c54482129fb3878" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="Exploring Lalitpur book review"> <figcaption>Mahaboudha is a replica of a temple in Bodhgaya.</figcaption> </figure>  In a recent Patan by Night heritage walk, we learnt that Pim Bahal was the labour of love of a lakhe demon (now popularised as masked dancer) who had fallen for a local girl, and he dug the pond so she would not have to walk to a faraway spout to collect water. Nearby is the Charumati Chaitya, built by the daughter of Emperor Ashoka when she visited the Valley in the 3rd century BCE to spread Buddhism in Nepal. Interestingly, if Kathmandu is a city of temples, Patan is the centre of monasteries which represent a unique Tantric melding of Buddhist and Hindu forms. Examples are: the Tadham Cuka with relocated Licchavi-era chaityas symbolic of the four major events in Buddha’s life, Ajima of Haugal Tole which is the oldest stone scripture in Nepal with the Gaja Laxmi in Chyasal, and Bignantak Ganesa temple which is a manifestation of Shiva mingled with Vajrayana Buddhism.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260101120152_17a500e77f06b9881f684329e41d3482f6f6a639ffb929d8bb44e5af7934c61c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20260101120152_17a500e77f06b9881f684329e41d3482f6f6a639ffb929d8bb44e5af7934c61c" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="Exploring Lalitpur book review"> <figcaption>Bignantak Ganesa temple.</figcaption> </figure>  &nbsp;Besides spatial descriptions, the book also explains the temporal by curating a detailed cultural calendar of Lalitpur with dates and places of jatra, rituals, devotional dances and festivals that weave the agricultural cycle with the zodiac.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260101120152_b8e1cc03653fea85dec84a7abee4fd594c35c6ad553769f37905eb5b38774e08.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20260101120152_b8e1cc03653fea85dec84a7abee4fd594c35c6ad553769f37905eb5b38774e08" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Exploring Lalitpur book review"> <figcaption>Mipwa Lakhe of Patan which create fire in mid aid during performance.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260101120152_442e10bff842214e8c7522ebf6e63663599768db73bb57d999deff9de1b59375.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20260101120152_442e10bff842214e8c7522ebf6e63663599768db73bb57d999deff9de1b59375" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="Exploring Lalitpur book review"> <figcaption>Gan pyakhan or Astamatrika dance which is performed in Patan Darbar Squre during Dasain. </figcaption> </figure>  The very last chapter is dedicated to water and nature, what sustains lives and civilisations, and how Lalitpur continues to be the city it is because of the water supply system our ancestors left behind which function still, despite encroachment and pollution. ‘In the history of the world cities have been built, they thrived for some time and then became archaeological sites because they were not able to maintain the quality of air, water, and its soil,’ the authors write. ‘This led these cities to depopulate and ultimately die and are only referred to in history books. Lalitpur is not going to make the same mistake.’ &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260104080132_3f403388d57da82b499d6c489a8f095002bf69f11e515e92fa96fb5ca3af69e9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20260104080132_3f403388d57da82b499d6c489a8f095002bf69f11e515e92fa96fb5ca3af69e9" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Exploring Lalitpur"> </figure>

YALA

For daring to demand democracy, the Rana regime hanged activist Shukra Raj Shastri at midnight on 24 January 1941 by the side of the road at Teku. Across town in Siphal, Dharma Bhakta Mathema was also hanged. Four days later, Dasrath Chand and Gangalal Shrestha were executed by firing squad. These four young revolutionaries were members of the underground Nepal Praja Parishad that led the anti-Rana revolution with plans to assassinate key figures of the dynasty. The four martyrs sacrificed their lives for an unfulfilled cause. Monuments were put up in their honour (Shahid Gate) and their names glorified by the Shah monarchy that itself went on to ban political parties and persecute democracy activists. In 1950, the newly-formed Nepal National Congress launched an armed uprising against Rana rule after King Tribhuvan sought refuge at the Indian embassy to flee from the Rana regime. In 1951, the Ranas, Nepali Congress and King Tribhuvan signed a tripartite agreement that brought an end to 104 years of Rana rule.&nbsp; Thus began contemporary Nepal’s cycles of unfinished revolutions. Some 75 years later, on a sunny September morning, Nepal’s young and hopeful took to the streets demanding an end to the nation’s corrupt polity, envisioning a better democracy. They organised through digital platforms, played songs, danced, and chanted slogans. A few hours later, commandos fired on the protesters, massacring dozens. Over 8 and 9 September 2025, the government was overthrown, constitutional bodies were literally reduced to ashes, and 74 Nepalis were martyred.&nbsp; Nepal’s periodic revolutions have been ignited by anger against rulers, they have begun with great promise, spread with enthusiastic popular support despite rulers trying to crush them — but ultimately they have always fallen short of the expectations of citizens demanding reform. Through decades of dissent, Nepal’s periodic revolutions have remained incomplete, with the nation caught up in a cyclical search for stability.&nbsp; In 1960, king Mahendra staged a coup and overthrew an elected government led by prime minister B P Koirala -- a royal revolution against democracy. Mahendra is reported to have famously said to Koirala: “Nepal is not big enough for the two of us.” For the next 30 years Nepal resembled a one-party state under the absolute monarchy of the Panchayat. Elected leaders languished in jail or exile, political parties were banned, and the press controlled. This was the most frigid period of the Cold War, with Nepal’s neighbours India and China at war. Geopolitics was bound to have an impact. “After the 1816 Sugauli Treaty with British India, external forces magnified internal power struggles as outsiders played divide and rule,” explains editor and political analyst Rajendra Dahal. “Movements did not reach a logical conclusion because domestic politicians were forced to compromise.” Indeed, the departure of the British from India in 1947 meant that the days of the Anglophile Rana regime were numbered. Successive prime ministers sought patronage in Delhi, and the monarchy tried to counterbalance it with a policy of equidistance with China. The neighbours showed a keen strategic interest in Nepal’s domestic politics. “The Panchayat system did not deliver what it promised,” says Santosh Sharma Poudel of Nepal Institute of Policy and Research. “Nepalis suffered administrative and governance failure, politics was centralised in Kathmandu, leaving out the rest of Nepal.” With mainstream political parties and leaders were &nbsp;underground between 1961 till 1990, student activists became proxies for political parties. As pressure for change grew, a student-led pro-democracy movement spread across Nepal in 1979. In response, King Birendra announced a referendum to allow Nepalis to choose between the status quo and a ‘reformed’ Panchayat &nbsp;system.&nbsp; The Panchayat won by a slim margin with questions about the legitimacy of the plebiscite. The reforms never materialised and it would be another decade before street anger boiled over again. As the People’s Movement for democracy spread, king Birendra again relented, unbanning political parties and Nepal became a constitutional monarchy. Inspired by Mao Zedong, a faction of Nepal’s Communists felt that western-style parliamentary democracy was too slow to end a feudalist monarchy. They launched an armed struggle in 1996, and the war lasted ten years (editorial, page 2). “If the democratic government post-1990 had performed better, and brought real reform, the Maoists would not have a reason to launch a revolution,” says Poudel. After nearly a decade of bloodshed that left 17,000 dead and thousands still missing, the Maoists joined forces with the democratic parties that they had been fighting, to pressure king Gyanendra through street protests in 2006 to restore democracy. In 2008, an elected Constituent Assembly abolished the monarchy. &nbsp;Recalls Rajendra Dahal: “The second people’s movement did not aim to abolish the monarchy. In fact, the reinstated parliament even granted equal rights for royal daughters to be crowned queen. But eventually, the monarchy no longer fit the political framework that the parties envisioned.” It took two elections over the next eight years to draft a new Constitution that reflected Nepal’s socio-cultural and geographic diversity and met the demands of the Maoists. The new federal Constitution was finally promulgated in 2015, but failed to satisfy India and the aspirations of the Madhes communities for autonomy. The state’s effort to crush the Madhes movement cost 45 lives. The promise of the new Constitution was squandered over the next decade with rotating leadership of the NC, UML and the Maoists — all of whom had forgotten the sacrifices made in the name of revolution. Cronyism and corruption was the order of the day. And it was this never-ending cycle of political opportunism and malgovernance that brought Nepal’s youth to the streets on 8 September.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260101120128_bc50f6370ff80a6758199ea7ba9f4c214656a9322a8d2ba1c97e6cdfb88f7f62.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260101120128_bc50f6370ff80a6758199ea7ba9f4c214656a9322a8d2ba1c97e6cdfb88f7f62" data-rendition-name="original" width="3372" height="1371" loading="lazy" alt="timeline"> </figure>  1951 Revolution against the &nbsp;Rana regime 1960 King Mahendra's coup, jails B P Koirala and launches the partyless Panchayat system 1979 Student protests for democracy, King Birendra announces referendum&nbsp; 1980 Continuation of the partyless Panchayat system narrowly wins plebiscite&nbsp; 1990 People’s Movement I 1996 Maoists launch armed struggle&nbsp; 2000 Royal Massacre 2005 King Gyanendra's military-backed coup&nbsp; 2006 Comprehensive Peace Accord and Parliament restored 2008 Monarchy is abolished 2015 Madhes Movement, New Constitution promulgated 2017 First 3-tier election under federal system 2022 Second elections under federal Constitution&nbsp; 2025 GenZ protests BRK ALLIANCE “The socio-political change sought in all these movements never matched the people’s expectations, because the central issue of clean and efficient government never materialised,” says Poudel. The post-September political landscape has injected new personalities and alliances still relatively new to politics, as evidenced by the new electoral partnership of the BRK — Balen Shah, Rabi Lamichhane, and Kulman Ghising (page 1).&nbsp; These leaders are not without flaws, but they have become the effective flag-bearers of the GenZ movement, hoping to represent Nepalis disillusioned by decades of democratic decay. The March election will pit them against the legacy parties. There is already criticism that BRK is behaving just like male-dominated opportunists of old parties. The troika is resembling the triumvirate of Oli, Deuba and Dahal and its culture of patronage and quid-pro-quo power-sharing between alpha males. Will this also be another unfinished revolution? Says political scientist Sucheta Pyakuryal: &nbsp;“The kind of destruction that happened after the revolution should have been followed by a ground-breaking shift in Nepal’s political ecosystem, but that did not happen. Today the situation is a lot grimmer because we have players who have learned how to use the democratic facade to sound ‘equitable’ and ‘accountable’. But look closely and you see how the same political chauvinism, cronyism and nepotism still continue.”&nbsp;

Nepal’s incomplete revolutions

One of the few Newa towns situated outside Kathmandu Valley, Panauti still evokes the feeling of a place frozen in time.&nbsp; Largely untouched by haphazard urbanisation, this town 32km east of Kathmandu used to be a kingdom revered for the sacred confluence of the Punyamati and Rosi rivers.&nbsp; The Bramhayani temple is the site of a 12 yearly Makar Mela which is attended by devotees from as far away as India.&nbsp; Panauti’s crumbling monuments were restored in the 1990s by the French government. Temples, resting places, traditional homes were rebuilt and locals trained to revive their craft. Panauti and France marked 50 years of cooperation in September.&nbsp; However, the priceless murals on the temple walls are fading and need urgent restitution. Now, these crumbling wall paintings are meticulously documented in the Wall Paintings of Panauti and Their Context.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260106090116_31f6acf06ef879037fec8274b85153eab4468566abf71616490679bf8468b85d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260106090116_31f6acf06ef879037fec8274b85153eab4468566abf71616490679bf8468b85d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1596" height="1074" loading="lazy" alt="Panauti murals"> </figure>  In his foreword, French researcher Gérard Toffin writes about some of the earliest wall paintings from the Malla period in Kathmandu, including a 17th century mural depicting the procession of Rato Machhindranath which has since been restored.&nbsp; Several other pieces still exist but in a pitiful state, defaced by scratches. ‘They were painted on a plaster coating made of soil, husks, or limestone, which were applied to the bricks making up the walls,’ Toffin notes.&nbsp; The book delves into the cult of Asta Matrika among Newa of all castes and classes, the first of which is Bramhayani. These all-pervading deities are linked to Shaktism which focuses on the importance of the female principle and together, combine the forces of life, sex and fertility with that of death and eros. The deities are painted on the wall, carved on the stone or moulded into metallic statues.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260106090120_836efd2b0a569d8ec0fb2c6651a29b8f2dd8f8f75b72e27bb86b0bfc0ad8461f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260106090120_836efd2b0a569d8ec0fb2c6651a29b8f2dd8f8f75b72e27bb86b0bfc0ad8461f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1074" height="1434" loading="lazy" alt="Panauti murals"> </figure>  Riddhi Baba Pradhan, former director general of the Department of Archaeology who oversaw the restoration of Panauti 30 years ago, writes that a colourful wall painting depicting Buddha's past life at the Chabahil Chaitya built or restored during the reign of Lichhavi king Vrisdev in the 3rd century might be the earliest mural in Nepal. As for Panauti, a fragment from a 400-year-old scroll which illustrates a scene of Triveni Ghat with Dalinchok Hill in the background is likely the oldest. But that relic is currently at the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts in the United States.&nbsp; Pradhan recalls first encountering wall paintings inside Bramhayani temple which were deteriorated by smoke, leaky roof, dust, vermilion, sprinkles of animal blood and lack of maintenance. The team led by chemist Bhimvar Singh Thapa treated the wall paintings and some of the details were recovered including the paintings of Astamatrika and Asta Bhairav on the east, west and southern walls.&nbsp; PAINTINGS ARE NOT VISIBLE The murals were painted during the reign of the last Malla King of Bhaktapur Ranjit Malla and Queen Viswalaxmi Devi 300 years ago. But 40 years after the restoration, Pradhan notes that the murals are again in poor condition: ‘The paintings are not visible, the plaster is severely damaged and the surface has peeled off … electrical wires hang haphazardly inside the temple.’ The second lot of murals at Ghat Sattal are thought to have been commissioned during the late Malla period or the beginning of the Shah dynasty. Exterior walls depict incarnations of Lord Vishnu as well as Sesh Narayan, Ganesh, a scene of Samundra Manthan, of angels Maya, Moha, Ganga. Their attributes, dresses, ornaments, facial expressions, body postures are all skilfully represented but in a deteriorated condition.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260106090116_88d06703ae23a271905d81f35056d41df92cbbc4b9966fac3f34821659e585a8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260106090116_88d06703ae23a271905d81f35056d41df92cbbc4b9966fac3f34821659e585a8" data-rendition-name="original" width="588" height="862" loading="lazy" alt="Panauti murals "> </figure>  The wall paintings of Bramhayani Dyochhen are 90% degraded even though they were restored and repaired 40 years ago by the Panauti Integrated Project. Compared to other artefacts, wall paintings are more delicate to external factors, and if not preserved an important part of Nepal’s heritage will be lost.&nbsp; Furthermore, most of the wall paintings in Nepal are temperas, and not frescos. Tempera is painted with water-soluble mineral or vegetable pigments fixed with glue on the cow dung clay plaster on the brick walls. While Nepal’s focus has been on the repatriation of stolen artefacts from abroad, religious and cultural objects within the country like the Panauti murals need urgent attention.&nbsp; This slim publication by Panauti Municipality is an important call to begin the work before it is too late.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260101120124_d0efa1e57b2710a206beb37c7e934ac34e694afc278985934eac2fc52124a92c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260101120124_d0efa1e57b2710a206beb37c7e934ac34e694afc278985934eac2fc52124a92c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Wall Paintings of Panauti"> </figure>