P’s bag is stuffed with packets of sanitary napkins. They’re colourful, orange, blue, green, with neat imprints of napkins, flowers and petite girls. The packets peep from between her clothes, straddling an overnight kit and a bag of medicines. She’s staying at the hospital.
The sight of sanitary napkins borders on a sense of familiarity. When in stores, seeing them on the shelf always has drawn me towards them. Consumerism is real! But also the need to be prepared and comfortable. For my generation, napkins were what mothers introduced us to before we discovered tampons and menstrual cups through friends.
I stare at P’s stash of sanitary napkins and a deep sadness hits me. She’s no longer going to need them because she’s about to have her uterus and ovaries removed, to remedy a health issue. Menstruation is going to be over for her suddenly. And with it will come the loss of a habit her body and her emotions have gotten used to for 35+ years.
Days after the surgery, as she sits at the landing of the first flight of stairs, exhausted and in pain from the climbing, her mother will pat away stray strands of hair from her face and cup it and stare at it lovingly. That moment of wonder is when women understand.
P has been a housewife for as long as she has been married. In her late 40s now, she’s already starting to resemble her mother. Her life has been about doing household work, raising kids and serving her in-laws. There is no residue of the girl who wore mini skirts and wore her hair in short bangs. The one who wrote down the lyrics of songs that made it to the Grammy’s and sang aloud, and learned the moves for Bollywood numbers.
The new P is someone else. She speaks in whispers, as though worried her thoughts will be interrupted or overheard. She tucks information in her heart, afraid she will be found out. This P nurses her body from the tiredness of employment as a housewife. This P is synonymous to her uterus.
As she recovers from the surgery, she will realise that with the absence of her reproductive unit, she has abruptly menopaused. There’s no perimenopause for her. She hadn’t yet gone through the highs and lows of perimenopause. The journey has been sudden and the destination hasn’t yet sunk in. And, she will have to get rid of the sanitary napkins.
I remove them from her bag and put them into mine. I’m perimenopausal, I tell her. I’ve missed a period and I don’t know when the next one is coming.
I’ve experienced severe bloating, coupled with phantom cramps and restlessness. The pain would spread across my abdomen, making me weep and wonder if pregnancy would feel the same way. What would it feel like to hold a full baby in your belly? Would it feel like I’d had too much to eat? Would it be painful? I will never know now that I have entered perimenopause.
It's a lonely journey, this. No one tells you you will experience a hundred things. Eh, they will say, you’re about to stop. But no one explains what you need to know-- the same as when you first started and they didn’t tell you your periods were not some hemorrhage.
No one tells you perimenopause makes your periods erratic and you will need to carry provisions in your bag always, since you never know when to expect it. Tracking your period calendar doesn’t help anymore because the courses are no longer by the chart. No one tells you your knees will start to buckle and osteoporosis will set in. You will struggle on the staircase.
No one tells you you might experience tinnitus, irritability, dizziness, brain-fog, restlessness, insomnia, forgetfulness, low mood, eczema, weight gain and hot flashes. My gynaecologist made a list of the symptoms when I asked her. But many women don’t or can’t afford to see a specialist when they’re going through perimenopause. Our mothers went though it silently and many of us follow in their trajectory. But it helps to converse.
Speaking to some of my girlfriends who’re also perimenopausal has helped see my own situation with more clarity. Not all women menopause at 50 as is often predicted. Some menopause as early as 40. Regardless, the symptoms for menopause can begin to set in a decade before one arrives at it. For some, the transition is brief. Regardless of the length, perimenopause means you might suddenly feel like you’re on fire, experience irritability and sadness, and physical pain and a number of other symptoms.
As women head towards menopause, we lose bone density and muscle and quickly gain weight. My friend S decided to start lifting weights last year to deal with the symptoms. Now her legs are taut with strength and exercising has helped her stay steady. And she’s eating more fiber and less carbs. &nbsp;
There are a thousand thoughts that might cross a woman’s mind during perimenopause. They’re around fertility, sex life, health, weight concerns but also around relationships. It can be hard for a perimenopausal woman to stay upbeat.
And as Phoebe Wallerbridge writes for one of the scenes in Fleabag, when menopause comes, you’re suddenly free, but your pelvis floor crumbles. It’s a mad balance women are expected to keep. From the curiousness of puberty through years of fertility, the only days of peace every month are the remainder after subtracting ten day of PMSing, a week of menstruating and another of ovulating.
It is possible to take tests to determine menopause age and fertility. And this can help women prepare mentally for what’s coming. Most of all, it would help to know friendships, family and loves won’t abandon us as suddenly as health tends to.

Pratibha Tuladhar

original

674x448

610x380

500x500

400x266

400x240

400x203

301x200

1250x600

1084x550

thumbnail

viewImage

As we perimenopause

Chandraa had to be carried down the hillside on a makeshift stretcher, as she went into labour. The pain she experienced at the time wasn’t taken away by the bright blueness of the October sky above her or the singing of the birds on the trees. As the men hurried her down the hillside on the stretcher, the jolts they made, only made her pain worse. She wondered if she would make it to hospital on time or if like her friend, Sukundara, she too would end up giving birth to her baby in a boat. She decided that to drip into the Begnas through the boat was not going to be her fate. And in response, her water broke as they scurried downhill and they halted and the women crouched beside her to help her and there, in the middle of the forest, in the Begnas valley, Chandraa’s daughter was born. “She’s 16 now and she’s in class ten,” Chandraa says. “My son is 12 now and he was born in the hospital. I wasn’t going to risk birthing in a forest the second time.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20231105121156_36d1aa692742ad68e05029c77c5bfd361557dc2fc739ba3376f6d97cc9758e6c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20231105121156_36d1aa692742ad68e05029c77c5bfd361557dc2fc739ba3376f6d97cc9758e6c" data-rendition-name="original" width="960" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Begnas Lake"> </figure>  The oars push into the water and away as Chandraa works her way across the lake. “You tell me where you want to go and I’ll take you there,” she says. I ask her to row closer to the thicket and we drift along the edge of the lake where the shore meets the forest— we’re far out in a deserted corner. No other boats in sight, it’s Chandraa and I, and the cicadas, at their loudest. A dragon fly perches on the oar and she pauses briefly, lets it alight on a bundle of grass parked on the side of the boat, and then rows again. “I don’t want my children to have to work as hard as I have had to and so they’re both going to go to college and work in offices,” she says. And so, Chandraa takes up extra work when it is available. She explains how rare a ride is during low-season, and that while she charges 800 per ride, she only gets to pocket 200. I ask if she spends some of that money on herself. “On my children,” she says. Chandraa is a full-time farmer, but on days when the field work is wrapped up, she picks her bag, umbrella and her hat, and sets downhill to the lake, in the hope of finding a tourist to ferry around. “This is easier than field work and sometimes I meet nice people who like to talk and ask questions,” Chandraa says. But the conversation quickly turns and she starts to dart questions at me. “What happened to your hair, madam?” she asks. Old age, I say. She laughs: “I can’t tell if you coloured your hair or if you’re really old.”&nbsp; I am old. We laugh some more.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023110513110_0f83af6a9a6ac5eb3207c727d78ca9098820cf8e121fb0e16d4c59ae7838480e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2023110513110_0f83af6a9a6ac5eb3207c727d78ca9098820cf8e121fb0e16d4c59ae7838480e" data-rendition-name="original" width="960" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Begnas Lake"> </figure>  … Januka joins me on the park bench by the lake. “It is impossible,” she sighs. “They all owe me money and say they can only pay me tomorrow. And now I have no money.” At first, it sounds as though she’s talking to herself, but I soon notice it is directed at anyone who will sympathise. Once she is done settling her twin flasks on the bench, she looks at me and smiles. “Are you selling tea?” I ask. She says: “Yes. But I have run out of tea today.”&nbsp; By this time, I’m holding out some money in her direction. She looks at the money, smiles and shakes her head. No more tea. I make an offer: “How about you keep the money for two cups of tea and my friend and I will meet you here tomorrow so you can give us some tea.” She stares at the notes for a while and then takes them from me and repeatedly says: “Please make sure to come by tomorrow.”&nbsp; It is after two days that I am finally able to launch Mission Januka and scour the lakeside for her. When I finally run into her again, she’s sitting in a dark patch by the lake, under a tree, handing out teas in paper cups. Eh, she says when she sees me: “Why didn’t you come the other day? Right right, the storm! It lasted two days, no?” “Where’s your friend?” She tilts her head to check as though she were expecting someone to emerge from behind me. It’s just me, I say. Januka pulls out a paper cup, uncorks her thermos and pours me a cup of tea. The wind has started to gather around us again and we both have hair flapping across our faces. “It’s crazy weather again, no?”&nbsp; “Yes, makes me think of the year we had the earthquake,” she responds. “That’s right. My family is from near Barpak and we moved here after the earthquake. I go to school here now.” Januka says she makes around 400 rupees a day selling tea after school. “It’s not much, but the work is easy and the money is useful,” she says. I ask if it is safe for her to walk home at night. Januka explains there are other vendors like herself and they usually wait for everyone to finish the sales and walk back together to their rented rooms. I close my fingers over the paper cup. The liquid is warm against my hands. It begins to pitter-patter. I’ll head to my hotel now, I say. “Will you be safe walking alone, madam?” Januka asks me. “If you’re safe, I’m safe, I guess.” We exchange smiles. Hers is the smile of a child, awkward but generous. Almost suddenly, I’m filled with a sense of joy that only a cup of sweet, fragrant tea could have brought me on a rainy evening. I sip the tea and walk on in the drizzle, talking to random street dogs and thinking about Januka counting her money at the end of each day.

Two women in a boat and some tea

Her costume, all white -- a cape and a mask. In the likeness of all superheroes, she has the gait of someone whose every move is purpose. And she wears her hair in a chic long bob — almost like Elastigirl. 
My superhero is called Doctor Anu, in the spirit of the syllables most superheroes go by.
When we first met, she was seated at her desk, a glass shield between us, examining my documents with brisk fingers and the silence of someone who is thorough with the content. Later, she ran her fingers over my abdomen, investigating, letting me know I had arrived. 
Doctor Anu, the one who never abandons her post.
When the 25 April earthquake struck Nepal in 2015, Doctor Anu was in the operation theatre, delivering a baby. She had just disconnected the umbilical cord when the rattling began. One of the two nurses attending ran out, screaming, and the resident doctor sat down on the floor and started to cry. 
The mother, lying on the operating table, anesthetised only below her waist as in the case of all cesareans, grabbed Doctor Anu’s cape and said: "Please don’t leave me!" 
Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/the-wait/">The wait</a>, Pratibha Tuladhar
I won’t, said Doctor Anu. And while the earth continued to shudder in instalments, she completed the procedure. 
For a moment, she teared up, thinking of her own toddler, who she had no way of reaching as the phones were down. She conducted two more surgeries that day, saving six lives. It would be 26 April when she would finally be able to go home. 
At the hospital cafe, she chats with her colleagues through her mask. When they break into laughter, hers is the clearest, heartiest. And I think that is her superpower — the ability to steer clear of the morbid in all situations.
She notices me, and gets up to join my table. There is a moment my eyes well up with tears as we converse and she puts one arm around me and pats. When she gets up to leave, she says: You call me or text me anytime you need, okay? 
Anytime I reach out, my phone pings back within an hour if not minutes, with brief but clear instructions— very superhero style. 

I am here, she says. And she just is. 
Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/notes-from-a-musician/">Notes from a musician</a>, Pratibha Tuladhar
 *********
Prachinta is Resident 301. We have it written on a band she wears on her wrist, along with the cannula that makes her hand look like an inflating balloon. She speaks every two hours asking me if she can have some water and I keep denying her request. It will make you sick, I say. Her body is still reacting to the anesthesia, making her throw up every few hours between zoning in and out and saying the blood pressure cuff is tight. 
What time is it, she asks. 2AM. How many more hours until morning?
Prachinta’s companions in the ICU are resident women 307 and 302. And a man in 603. Resident 307 needs careful handling. While phasing in and out of sedation, she wants to know what drugs she is on and how much the hospital will charge. At the end of most sentences, she says, "don’t tell my husband I said this", constantly censoring herself. And then, I am done with being here, I will go home today.
Resident 302 murmurs. Once, she asks if I am her granddaughter and if we are in a hotel. She says, I haven’t seen my grandchildren for so long, they are abroad. Then, Babu, why are you dressed in this uniform like you work in a hospital. I work in one, Ama, I tell her. Then she apologises. I guess you are not my granddaughter. Narisaunus hai. Don’t mind me. Then she falls asleep. 
Resident 307 curses. Being born a woman is a curse, she says. If you have a uterus, you are sin and suffering.
You don’t say so, Ama. All living beings suffer in our bodies. Men fall sick, too, I explain.
Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/we-are-fire-breathing-dragons/">We are fire-breathing dragons</a>, Pratibha Tuladhar
Prachinta starts to stir. Even with all the painkillers we have been shooting through her veins, she appears muted by pain. She can barely speak when she finally comes awake from the sedation. I help her sit on a stool and tell her to brush her teeth. Her hands, ballooning from the cannula, can barely hold the toothbrush. How do I do this, she asks. I find a black hairbrush among her personal belongings. She has long, greying hair. It reminds me of someone from my childhood. I comb the matted strands and ask if the greys are highlights. No, just age, she says.
I use my best braiding skills and tie up her hair with a piece of gauze. You have thick, beautiful hair, I say. Like the information even matters to a person who is spending time in the ICU. Thank you, she says. 
Her inner elbows have turned blue from the repeated punctures we have had to cause. But every time we make her wince in pain, she says: thank you. 
 *********
Writes Phoebe Waller-Bridge for Fleabag: 'Women are born with pain built in. It is our destiny. Period pain. Sore boobs. Child birth. You know? We carry it within ourselves throughout our lives. Men don’t. They have to seek it out. They invent ways to. Gods and demons and things so they can feel guilty about things, which is something we do very well on our own…and we have it all going on in here, inside. We have pain in a cycle for years and years and years. And then, just when you feel you are making peace with it, what happens? The menopause comes. And it is the most wonderful thing in the entire world. And yes, your pelvic floor crumbles…and then you are free. No longer a slave, no longer a person with parts.'
Maa sometimes says: I prayed all the years of my youth for the menopause. I have been thinking lately about how much I want to arrive at the menopause, so that my body can stop self-destructing. 
Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/of-anger-and-love/" target="_blank">Of anger and love</a>, Pratibha Tuladhar
Suburban Tales is a monthly column in Nepali Times based on real people (with some names changed) in Pratibha’s life.

Light of the absurd

<figure><img width="1750" height="1000" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114111148/63721cf49c7e80680e0bd4bejpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Photo credit: PAUL JEFFREY</figcaption></figure>Every new crisis heightens the importance of l<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/no-country-for-young-men/">abour migration</a> for Nepal’s economy. <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/defying-predictions-nepals-remittances-still-high/">Remittance money</a> has run this country for past centuries, right down to the present day. A succession of rulers have not offered citizens even the bare minimum to survive, so Nepalis have voted with their feet – as workers or warriors overseas. Now, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/female-migrant-workers-hold-up-half-the-sky/">women have also started migrating</a>, and about 10% of Nepali workers abroad are female.Remittance accounts for more than a <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/high-risk-remittance/">quarter of Nepal’s GDP</a>, an ever-growing portion of which is from women workers abroad. Many are employed in India and in countries banned by the government, which means they are <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/caring-for-nepals-women/">missing from official records</a>.The history of labour migration from Nepal has its roots in the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/the-start-of-the-anglo-gorkha-war/">Nepal-British India wars.</a> Even before the formal defeat of the former <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=10937#.Yljce9NBzAM">Gurkhas were being recruited by Sikh king</a> Maharaja Ranjit Singh in Lahore having seen their bravery at the battle of Kangra in 1815. The word <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=10937#.Yljce9NBzAM">Lahure, लाहुरे,</a> denotes soldiers and men working abroad and is derived from the British cantonment in Lahore.  Migration of Nepali men for work and/or settlement is comparatively well documented, but women not so much. Even more neglected is the sacrifice and contribution of the women left behind in Nepal.Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=10937#.Yljce9NBzAM">'Lahureys’ prop Nepal’s economy</a>, Rajendra DahalIn his new book Lahure Women: Two Centuries of Struggle, Service and Silent Fortitude, Nepal scholar David Seddon looks at the role of the लाहुरे, the daughters, wives, mothers, sisters, aunts, grandmothers of Gurkhas and latter-day migrants in the Gulf, Malaysia and other countries.This is an attempt to bring women to the fore, and shed light on their changing role in Nepali society. The book has a brief history of Gurkhas in wars of the<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/looking-back-at-the-1923-nepal-britain-treaty/"> last 200 years</a>, and the role of Lahure women. Labour migration was also the beginning of women empowerment in Nepal. Women left behind had to take care of families and farms after the men left. The difference today is that the women are also leaving in greater numbers – to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/demand-grows-for-nepali-caregivers-in-israel/">work as caregivers in Israel and as household help</a> in the Gulf countries.This is the driving force behind the increasing purchasing power of Nepali families, the dramatic fall in the poverty rate, and the spurt in grassroots development. Families in villages can now afford more nutritious food, healthcare and ‘boarding’ school education for their children – paid for by remittance money sent home. Many women who initially faced increased burden in absence of men are now <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/women-leaders-set-example-for-rest-of-nepal/">leaders of their communities</a>. They head forestry users groups, are in school management committees, volunteer as community health workers, implement drinking water projects, and are adapting to climate change.   Seddon reminds us that not all women were left behind. Even during the Anglo-Nepal war, women and children followed the Gorkhali garrisons and made up a significant portion of camp followers. Some were companions or concubines. Wives of Gorkhali soldiers even fought and died alongside their husbands in the battles of Kangra and Malaun.  Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/history-of-female-immobility-in-nepal/">History of female (im)mobility in Nepal</a>, Upasana KhadkaDuring the 19th century, Nepalis migrated to India to avoid high taxation, or to escape debt. As tea plantations spread in Darjeeling, entire families moved out of eastern Nepal to be pickers. From there they went on to Bhutan and Burma to work in dairy farms. It was in the late 19th century that Nepalis ventured beyond India, starting with Fiji and the West Indies, where they went as indentured labourers in British sugarcane plantations – many went with families.Seddon traces what must be one of the first documented Nepali woman migrant workers. He writes: ‘In a fascinating discussion of Indian indentured labour, involving predominantly Indian women being shipped to the West Indies and elsewhere, by Gaiutra Bahadur, mention is made of a “Nipalese woman” named Morti.’In the original document, Morti is described as refusing to acknowledge her husband and ‘if the couple had been married, it was perhaps a hastily struck depot or shipboard marriage as they were not from the same part of India, not remotely.’There were 200,000 Gurkhas deployed in the First World War, which accounted for one-fourth of the total male population in Nepal at the time. The Second World War also saw a similar number. Nearly 50,000 Nepali young men were killed in both wars, leaving us to consider what impact this loss might have had on the families in rural Nepal.Others chose not to return and settled with their families in Hong Kong, Singapore, Burma and Malaya where they had served under the British Army. By 1952-54, just over 12% of all Nepalis abroad were women. Seddon tries hard to find information on the roles Gurkhali women played, but it is scanty. The historical neglect by the state of Nepali women is reflected in the lack of documentation of their role, rendering their experience and sacrifices invisible. The book relies on reportage, including some from the Nepali Times. (Wish the author had credited the feature on Nepalis in Thailand, though.) <img width="326" height="279" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114111148/63721cf69c7e80680e0bd4bfjpeg.jpg" alt="">Seddon himself acknowledges the gaps and the need for more research. Lahure Women can be seen as the start of a process for further anthropological research into this important socio-economic aspect of Nepal’s migration. Read more: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/nepali-migrants-too-young-to-die,2811">Killed in the line of duty</a>, Om Astha Rai

Sonia Awale

The women left behind

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101140/63720d7c9c7e80680e0b78cajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1209" height="806"/><figcaption>Photo: AMIT MACHAMASI</figcaption></figure>You see my scars, and you think you had a glimpse of me when I was at my weakest. I see the same scars, and remember when I had to be my strongest.A woman’s beauty is her strength and grace during her most challenging days. It is not in hiding, but showing her scars where her true strength lies. To show the world <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepals-unequal-marriages/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">what she has been through</a>. Be proud of your scars and of who you are.You think the arch in my back is because of my age. It is the result of the weight I have carried all my life because I am a woman.From a young age, women carry the weight of the opinion and <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/childless-by-choice/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">expectations of others</a>. Be a good girl, a good daughter, a good sister, a good niece, a good friend, a good student, a good wife, a good mother, a good aunt, a good granddaughter, a good woman. If she trips even once, she is deemed to be a failure.Time has hardened the once soft hands that have spent years cleaning up after the mess other people leave behind. These tired hands continue to do the same.Take a look at your hands and listen to the stories they tell you. We spend most of our lives cooking, cleaning, and taking care of others. We put others and their needs before our own. It is okay to get exhausted from always looking after others, and to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/anger-management-for-nepali-women/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">prioritise yourself once in a while</a>. I thank my hands every night, for everything they continue to do for me.You heard as I tried to soothe your pain and cheer you up at every step, but somewhere along the road, I forgot to speak for myself as a woman.When I was young, my teacher told me: “Girls are to be seen and admired, not heard.” This shaped my early years. I never really spoke up in college or grad school. For the majority of my life, I stayed silent and kept my opinions to myself. It is only now that I am taking baby steps to speak up, but I still struggle. If I do not, no one will ever know. To all the women out there: it is our right and responsibility to speak up for ourselves and others.My eyes were taught to see the truth and beauty in the world. But I have kept them closed too long in the face of injustice, sadness, and pain. I must open them now to seek change. Years passed, life happened. I slowly stopped fighting for my dreams, goals, and rights. I started to lose the fire I once had. I once wanted to advocate for myself and other women, but before I knew it I had begun to give up on those lofty goals.Closing my eyes to the world <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/staying-mum-about-sexual-assault/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">does not stop terrible things</a> from happening. The first order of business is to open them, and observe for what they are to start the arduous journey of making changes.My ears yearn to hear the sweet sound of happiness all around me. I am tired of listening to all the hate, anger, and sorrow. Listen to me when I say this: we are all in this together.Ours is a generation that likes to talk but lacks the patience to listen. Your voices need to be heard but this is a reminder that it is also important to give others a chance to talk and listen to them carefully.Make it a habit to listen to others, not just the sound of your voice. <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/letter-to-a-nepali-aunty/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Support other women</a>. If we keep tearing each other down, it will be impossible for us to rise together.Anjana Rajbhandary writes this fortnightly Nepali Times column LifeTime about mental health, physical health and socio-cultural issues.

Anjana Rajbhandary

The female social anatomy

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101136/63720cc69c7e80680e0b7888jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2000" height="1333"/><figcaption>Photo: ICIMOD</figcaption></figure>Climate change impacts all of us, but this burden is not evenly spread out. Our experiences, our privileges, our support systems, our ability to cope – these dictate how the very real consequences of today’s climate crisis impact us.We know that women face exclusion and unequal burdens. Their access to resources, rights, assets, and power remains fettered. <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/climate-change-is-a-disaster-in-the-nepal-himalaya/">Climate change</a> only deepens these inequalities – manifold.Take the women from the Hindu Kush Himalaya region, which straddles eight countries and is one of the poorest and most neglected regions in the world. Women here have had to contend with <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/mountains-without-men-sindhupalchok,3585">men migrating in search of employment</a> by shouldering more responsibilities: welfare and community work, agricultural labour, and natural resource use and management, among many other duties.To add to this feminisation of responsibilities, women from the Himalaya have had to navigate through <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepali-women-doubly-burdened-by-climate-change/">climate change-related uncertainty and hardships</a>. Climate change impacts are felt more severely and rapidly in these mountains than anywhere else.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101136/63720cc99c7e80680e0b7889jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="126" height="150">These disruptions to lives and livelihoods are very real and very serious. Domestic drudgery is compounded by climate change, which leaves little room for growth and other opportunities. And Himalayan women farmers have to deal with <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/women-and-water/">growing water scarcity</a>, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/the-double-burden-of-climate-and-covid/">unpredictable and extreme weather events</a>, falling productivity, and poor access to financial resources and market linkages. They also have to carve out alternative sources of livelihoods as traditional subsistence becomes harder by the day.As farmers, as entrepreneurs, as caretakers, and in the host of other roles thrust upon them, women now have to adapt to these disruptions of climate change. We can learn a great deal from the important contributions and adaptations women make towards climate action.Read more: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/how-the-climate-crisis-adds-to-child-marriage-in-nepal/">How the climate crisis adds to child marriage in Nepal</a>, Sonam LamaRecognising this, the Government of Norway and <a href="https://www.icimod.org/">ICIMOD</a> have been working together with Nepal’s women to address the sharp gendered inequalities in climate change adaptation. We recently visited different municipalities in Kavre district where we have been piloting a package of solutions that are gender responsive, simple, and affordable. We were inspired by how women are leading the way with innovative, climate-resilient solutions and approaches.Women are at the forefront of climate change impacts, and in Kavre they have been active and effective agents and promoters of adaptation and mitigation. For instance, we are working to develop a green, resilient, and inclusive entrepreneurial ecosystem for economic and environmental sustainability in Khawa village.Women’s groups have formed a home-based enterprise that processes milk and sells value-added dairy products at local markets in and around the Kathmandu Valley. Although <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/the-double-burden-of-climate-and-covid/">the Covid-19 pandemic disrupted</a> the supply chain, these women’s groups worked with government line agencies and the private sector to get back on track.During the pandemic, we also trained <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/holding-up-half-the-economy/">women entrepreneurs</a> in Khawa to produce off-farm products like face masks and PPE sets, and they used digital platforms for financial transactions to access prevailing market prices and technical advice linked to crop management. While the market for these specific items may change over time, the women have developed some e-commerce skills and have combined private sector actor networking with their own sales in local markets, aiding overall sustainability into the future for these women entrepreneurs.In Kuikel Thumka village, our work is largely focused on nature-based solutions and we witnessed how women have increased access to climate and market information via mobile apps and SMS advisories and better networking with municipalities and government line departments. This has led to women’s growing leadership roles and decision making regarding farming, marketing of agricultural products, natural resource management, and financial investments and savings.Our vision for Nepal, and the Himalaya-Hindu Kush region, is for women to become change agents for collective climate action. As custodians of natural resources, women are repositories of traditional knowledge on how life with changing, finite natural systems can co-exist, and how benefits from such natural resources can be equitably distributed.Read more: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepali-women-doubly-burdened-by-climate-change/">Nepali women doubly burdened by climate change</a>, Sewa BhattaraiSeeing how <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepali-women-doubly-burdened-by-climate-change/">deeply interwoven gender and climate change</a> are, we need to relieve the burden on women who are already feeling its disproportionate impact. Women cannot be victims and champions at the same time. Women should not be silent beneficiaries, but they cannot be fixers of all problems either.Women are and can be change agents, but we need targeted solutions that match their realities, and integrated policies and programmes that consider the intersections of gender and climate change. Only with the right environment and the proper incentives and capacity building can women really lead the charge for nature-based solutions, sustainable development, and effective climate action.We are optimistic that this can happen and believe it is important to amplify voices of mountain women through examples of their leadership in climate action. During the high-level Ministerial Mountain Summit, the eight Himalaya-Hindu Kush countries supported collective climate action and investments in climate adaptation, low carbon development pathways, and resilience building.This can help deliver nationally prioritised climate action and scale up solutions at speed and space. On the ground, we emphasise climate-adapted agricultural practices and nature-based solutions.If we are to adapt to climate change, women will need to be at the heart of the climate-resilient solutions we promote across the Himalaya.Torun Dramdal is the Norwegian Ambassador to Nepal, and Pema Gyamtsho is the Director General of the International Centre for Integrated Mountain DevelopmentRead also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/women-moving-nepals-climate-activism/">Women moving Nepal’s climate activism</a>, Sewa  Bhattarai

Mountain women on the climate frontlines

<figure><img width="1200" height="489" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101120/637209299c7e80680e0b5527jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption></figcaption></figure>There are many examples to prove that, given the right opportunities, Nepali women can perform as well as, if not better than, their male counterparts. Nepali women professionals have proven this time and again despite a persisting gender gap in all the fields. And it is in science and technology that the representation of women has been low. However, Nepal’s women scientists have been making their mark in fields as diverse as medical research, engineering, genetics and even astrophysics. On International Day of Women and Girls in Science on 11 February, we bring you five women scientists who between them have pioneered in forecasting droughts, developing climate-friendly agriculture, the diagnosis and treatment of congenital diseases. These Nepali researchers were internationally recognised with the ‘Early Career Fellowship’ award worth $50,000 by UNESCO’s Organisation for Women in Science for the Developing World (OWSD) between 2018-2020. OWSD was set up in 1987 to encourage women in developing countries in the field of science and research so that their work can create an impact at the regional and international levels. Shobha Paudel <figure><img width="2048" height="1152" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101120/6372092c9c7e80680e0b5528jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><a style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/post-monsoon-rain-ruins-nepals-crops/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Unseasonal downpours last October</a> decimated much of Nepal’s paddy fields and reduced harvest. This was one of the impacts of the climate crisis on food productivity. Agriculture is also one of the most energy intensive sectors of the economy, thus contributing to global warming.Which is why ‘Smart Agriculture' is the new buzzword and researchers around the world are working to develop technologies that allow for crop production that does not add to climate change. One such researcher from Nepal is Shobha Paudel.Born to a family of farmers in Chitwan, it was only fitting that Paudel would continue her ancestral profession but at an entirely different level. Following the completion of her PhD from Kyoto University, she has been looking into advancing <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-villages-learn-to-cope-with-climate-crisis/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">environment-friendly agriculture practices</a> in Nepal.First, she closely studied a village in Nawalpur declared as climate-friendly and its farming methods that produced less carbon but increased productivity, and in turn income for the farming families.She picked eight research areas including organic fertilisers, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/harnessing-the-sun-to-pump-water/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">solar-powered irrigation</a>, jab planter for corn, and other zero-emission technologies. She then proposed to analyse environment-friendly farming systems in the Gandaki Watershed region.Her research showed that solar-irrigated crops were more expensive but the use of organic fertilisers and jab planters led to higher yield as well as reduced emissions. She also identified systems applicable to places with similar topography like Nepal.Paudel has now opened an online platform and an app for farmers to reach consumers directly with their products and in the future, she aims to scale up Nepal’s smart agriculture system in other Asian countries.Hemu Kafle <figure><img width="1200" height="700" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101124/637209309c7e80680e0b5529jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Last year, the mountains of Nepal suffered one of the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/wildfires-ravage-nepal-mountains/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">longest droughts of recent times</a>. Since the majority of farmers in Nepal depend on rain-fed agriculture, information on precipitation patterns and forecast of impending drought can help prepare farmers. This is where Hemu Kafle’s research can prove useful.Kafle obtained a Master's degree from the Ben Gurion University in Israel and her PhD in remote sensing from Nagoya University in Japan. After returning to Nepal, she joined NAST but soon after that in 2014, she set out to open the ‘Kathmandu Institute of Research Sciences’.For her OWSD proposal, Kafle decided to continue her research on drought estimation in Israel and Japan using photos taken by remote sensing satellites in Nepal. Kafle was unable to continue her study in Nepal due to relatively fewer ground stations in the country.“Nepal has varying geography and climates which makes it difficult to set up meteorological stations in remote areas,” says Kafle. But with her grant money, she built her own low-cost mobile meteorological station in a van to study <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/how-the-climate-crisis-adds-to-child-marriage-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">drought patterns in remote Nepal</a> by analysing satellite imagery.Kafle’s study also records air pressure and humidity which can help predict weather, estimate farming capacity and drought patterns of the area. She has found that most of Nepal will experience drier March and April in the coming decades.For now, Kafle is trying to secure a patent for her meteorological station and find a way to set up a fleet of similar stations across the country. “The government does not support researchers financially and it is costly to buy equipment on your own, so we have to find ways around it,” she adds.Tista Prasai Joshi <figure><img width="1292" height="888" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101124/637209339c7e80680e0b552ajpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Nepal has one of the lowest figures for access to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/do-not-fail-students-in-wash/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">safe drinking water</a> among developing nations with some 71% of all water sources contaminated with Escherichia coli, a leading cause of gastric infections among children.Tista Prasai Joshi’s proposal in 2019 aimed to purify water using organic arsenic which was the subject of her PhD in China’s University of Science and Technology. Her research into arsenic, (which can be a poison if it is of a different chemical composition) is to see if it could be a water purifying compound is unique and could have implications for other developing countries.With the grant money, Joshi bought a nanoparticle analysing equipment ‘Zeta Potential,’ which came in handy also for fellow researchers who previously did not have access to such a tool to help with their studies.“Science has never been prioritised by our government,” says Joshi who is currently with the NAST. “In fact, when I came back I had a few pieces of equipment that I could use for my study.”Such blatant disregard for the field has meant that Nepal has not been able to retain young and promising researchers who have left for the US or Europe in search of better opportunities.Prativa Pandey <figure><img width="1680" height="1120" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101124/637209379c7e80680e0b552bjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Prativa Pandey always dreamt of one day becoming a biological engineer. She fulfilled it by getting a degree in chemistry and mathematics from Northwestern University in the United States before doing her PhD in nanotechnology chemistry.By 2015 she was working as a semiconductor scientist, and she decided to return to Nepal after the earthquake. But she had no idea what she would do next and she travelled all over the country trying to identify her next venture.“I saw potential in medicinal herbs and plants. Although it had nothing to do with my studies, it is an important area but with little to no research,” says Pandey, who then started researching plants.At the time, she was with the Research Institution for Bioscience and Biotechnology, to find ways to increase the value-added products of acidic fruits such as oranges, lemons, and jams.When she heard about the OWSD fellowship, she sent her proposal which aimed to process waste citrus and turn them into cosmetic and medicinal products.Pandey has three focus areas: extracting oil from the citrus waste, developing power and decomposing the bark for bacteria on the fruit, forming a basis for her research which will take place in Rupandehi, Palpa and Gulmi districts with their abundant citrus production.After the project ends, she plans to use the waste to develop cosmetics for commercial sale and has in fact, already set up a company. She hopes she can source raw products domestically and for a country where farmers are unable to sell their produce in lack of transport or due to low market value, reusing them for value-added products can be a good alternative.Jyoti Bhandari <figure><img width="1190" height="695" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101124/6372093a9c7e80680e0b552cjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Jyoti Bhandari is an associate professor at the Institute of Forest Studies in Pokhara and has been involved in the conservation of bats since her time at China Agricultural University as a PhD student. During this time, she got an opportunity to tour grasslands and forests across Nepal and came to a swift realisation that the country lacks proper documentation of its <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/rare-anti-cancer-tree-on-verge-of-extinction/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">plants and herbs</a>. Which is why for her 2020 OWSD proposal, she decided to extend her research work into <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/medicine-goes-back-to-its-roots/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Nepal’s traditional herbs</a> to conserve them and also find ways to farm them sustainably so that it can raise living standards of farmers. This meant training local farmers in the scientific commercial farming of herbs, and this is exactly what Bhandari has been doing since receiving the grant in 2020. She has also concentrated her study in the Annapurna region and she frequently visits Sikles, Ghandurk, Lamjung and Lower Mustang to document the herbs found in the region, what they are used for and whether they are commercially produced. Bhandari had previously received the Plant Conservation Fellowship, Rufford Small Grant and WWF Russell Eton Fellowship.

Sky is the limit for Nepal’s women scientists

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101120/637208639c7e80680e0b54e3jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1189"/><figcaption>Ila Sharma and Hishila Yami in conversation at Indian Embassy, January 2022. Photos: PRATIBHA TULADHAR</figcaption></figure>Last month, a small group of people sat in a hall at the Indian Embassy, listening to two women in conversation around <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/review/nepals-maoist-revolution-from-the-inside/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">a book by former minister Hisila Yami</a>. What was interesting about this conversation was that it was happening between two women who had  been on opposite sides during Nepal’s Maoist conflict. Hisila Yami, was a former Maoist leader and Ila Sharma, a former election commissioner whose husband was killed by the Maoists.…When snail-mails arrived at my hostel in a hill-town in India in 1996, a friend wrote saying a <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/revisiting-maoist-demands,2860" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Maoist insurgency</a> had begun in Nepal. Then, while watching the news in the hall one evening, Ms Chakraborty said: You have a Naxalite movement in Nepal, it seems. I looked at her and then at the tv. Naxalite movement? My teenage mind had a difficult time stringing terms 'insurgency' and 'Naxalite'.I had little knowledge of what was going on in Nepal. But every time I came home on vacation, meal time conversations spilled with news about the Maoists. My mornings at home began with parents focusing on the Kantipur daily spread before them, reading bits of news aloud -- much of it about <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepals-unpunished-war-crimes/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">people being killed across Nepal</a>.…Soon after I returned to Kathmandu for good, I received an offer to work at the Indian Embassy’s Press and Information and Culture section. As someone who had just returned with an inflated ego pumped in by convent education, I thought I could take the world by storm. And so, I worked at the embassy as a translator, carefully transcribing news, a lot of which was on <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/hospital-destroyed-in-conflict-and-earthquake,2971" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Army-Maoist clashes</a>. The work took a toll on me and I quit to go back to studies -- I had become tired of recording death, not knowing then that there was going to be more.…As a broadcaster, I spent endless hours writing and reading news about <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/the-scars-of-war/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">bombings and ambushes</a>. For a sheltered urbanite, who at that time was doing armchair journalism, the Maoists appeared to be at a great distance.I would only meet Maoist cadres much later at the Gokarna Resort, when covering the Government-Maoist peace talks. (Future rounds would happen in Baluwatar, and reporters would all wait through chilly nights, shivering.) When sharing common space, the mystery and romanticism the 'insurgents' had become shrouded in, based on third-hand information, gradually faded away.…A conversation to mark Women’s Day: on the dias at Nepal Tourism Board are Shahana Pradan, Kalpana Dhamala and other women leaders. I am an trainee reporter, who ends up filing about how women representing different sides of politics were able to share a platform that day. I fiercely disagree with violence, but I still thought the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=12936#.Yf388i2B2b8" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">insurgency had given something to some Nepali women</a> -- a voice.…<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101120/637208669c7e80680e0b54e4jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>On a foggy December morning, I sat at the Shaktikhor Camp talking to Maoist deputy commander Uday Bahadur Chalaune. I wrote about how <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/from-the-nepali-press/ex-guerrillas-regret-the-war/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Maoist rebels</a> were languishing in the camps, while their leaders who had shed so much blood on their way to power, reigned in newfound glory. During our conversation, Chalaune and the others reiterated their party stand, at times nodding their heads in that familiar way.Eventually, Chalaune and his relatives would choose the golden handshake instead of integration. Was he disillusioned with the long wait? I have often wanted to meet him again and ask him.…In her one-roomed home in Bhaktapur, Sunita Regmi 'Yojana', a former Maoist warrior, offers me tea. She wears a prosthetic after losing a leg during an attack of an army barrack. During our conversation, she tells me she wants their daughter to grow up to have nothing to do with politics. It makes a good quote to end my story with. I have never met the family again, but have hoped that they have been able to educate the child as Yojana had hoped to.…Jelbang is sunny but cold. Everywhere you turn, you meet someone who lost a loved one to the war. In Thabang, a strange coldness seems to have settled over conversations with outsiders. Who do you trust? Something about the neatness of the place makes me want to stay longer, but it also feels too far away from home. Sadness looms in the air, and I think I probably made it up in my head.…Over the years, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/the-lingering-trauma-of-war/">Kiran Chaudhary</a> has become the closest subject to my heart. She awaits justice, years since her <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/wartime-rape-victims-of-Kanchanpur-speak-out-wait-for-justice,4222" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">rape</a>-in-custody by the APF during the war. She comes to Kathmandu once a year to see doctors who are still treating her violated body. Her time in Kathmandu is spent shuttling between hospital and the National Human Rights Commission.…Years on, I have never been able to come to terms with the violence that unfolded during the war. Attending the conversation at the Indian Embassy between women who are a privileged minority -- women like me, who went to schools in India and can read and write English text -- made me wonder what Nepal’s endless political wrangling has really done to propel <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/women-leaders-seen-but-not-heard/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">women into politics</a>.Sharma, the father of whose children was among the first casualties of the war, said during the conversation that the way forward to a peaceful politics is to make use of the right to vote. In Nepal, a generation of us grew up without an election for the longest time, and I still don’t vote because I have come to believe that an annulled vote is also a vote.During the conversation, Sharma asked Yami how she now feels about <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/from-the-frontlines-of-nepals-war/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">the war</a> to which so many people on both sides were lost. Yami paused, sighed, expressed regret and then said history is evidence that revolution always demands sacrifices.I have become stuck in her pause. Watching Ila Sharma and Hisila Yami was to watch a repeat of the reconciliation process. But it made me wonder: is reconciliation even a thing after what has passed?Suburban Tales is a monthly column in Nepali Times based on real people (with some names changed) in Pratibha’s life.

Vignettes from war

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114091156/637203229c7e80680e0b27f0jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1944" height="1098"/><figcaption></figcaption></figure>In the heart of Edinburgh near the Church of St John the Evangelist is <a href="https://www.oneworldshop.co.uk/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.oneworldshop.co.uk/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1641433168882000&amp;usg=AOvVaw2DlDyvp0funtWsI3daY8Bf">One World Shop</a>, a modest-looking store that sells goods from all over the world.Among the products are ‘<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/made-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Made in Nepal</a>’ sweaters, mufflers, felted slippers, and beanies which are flying off the shelves this winter. There are also Nepali handicraft items, lokta paper products, herbal bath soaps and <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/clothed-in-cannabis/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">hemp products</a> for sale.But the items are not as much for profit as they are for the international promotion of fair trade handmade goods made by women in poorer communities to improve their livelihood with added income. The store, a fair trade organisation set up in 1983, sources most of its Nepali products from the Association for Craft Producers and Get Paper Industry in Kathmandu."Our goal is to empower women and alleviate poverty through diversification of livelihood options," explains Rachel Farey, business manager of the One World Shop which also sponsors Nepali women to be trained at institutes in the UK. “We buy goods only when we confirm that they were made by women in need, or if they are somehow involved in manufacturing.”Farey comes from a family with a long-standing connection with Nepal. Her uncle was former Gurkha officer <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=9296#.YdRS8C8RqLd" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id%3D9296%23.YdRS8C8RqLd&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1641433168882000&amp;usg=AOvVaw2zTu5ZxUmpVaWi0pbRP35h">Mike Cheney</a>, a pioneer figure in <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/trekking-in-Nepal-turns-50,2658" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Nepal’s trekking</a> and mountaineering scene during the 1970s, who set up Sherpa Cooperative to ensure that porters had proper working conditions.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114091156/637203259c7e80680e0b27f1jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="971"><figcaption>Mike Cheney</figcaption></figure>Cheney had served in the British Army from 1946 to 1957 in the Royal Armoured Corps and the 10th Gurkha Rifles. After retiring from active service, he became a tea-estate manager in Darjeeling, and came to Kathmandu in 1965 for the first time and continued working in a tea estate in Ilam.He then turned to Nepal’s fledgling trekking industry, and in 1966 joined forces with <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/hiking-with-jimmy/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Jimmy Roberts</a> who had set up <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-himalayan-odyssey/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Mountain Travel Nepal</a>, the first registered trekking company in the world. In his later years, Cheney concentrated his efforts on promoting the country as a household name in the climbing and mountaineering industry.“Mike Cheney showed Nepal the way ahead, connecting the country to the rest of the world at a time when it was not easy to market a new destination, while at the same time making sure that porters got a good deal,” says tourism entrepreneur Karma Sherpa Lama in Kathmandu.Cheney was vocal about <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=4747#.YdT8di2B2b8" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">low-paid porters</a> carrying heavy leads during mountaineering and trekking expeditions and worked to raise living standards by setting an example with his Sherpa Cooperative. He made sure that porters were paid higher wages, had proper gear for high altitudes, and were taken care of if they fell sick.Cheney’s other major contribution was in scouting new trekking routes across Nepal, away from already <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/managing-everests-waste-problem/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">crowded Everest</a> and Annapurna areas, and improving the trails. Cheney was also a correspondent for several alpine journals and mountaineering magazines in Europe and the United States.Cheney was an active member of the Himalayan Rescue Association with its clinic in Pheriche, and the Trekking Agents’ Association of Nepal. He was the Local Hon Secretary of the Bombay-based Himalayan Club, a fellow of the Royal Geographical Society and a member of the Alpine Club.Now, his niece Farey is following in his footsteps and is committed to helping Nepali women and children through her store One World Shop in Edinburgh which sells a wide range of handmade crafts, jewelry, textiles, interior furnishings, furniture, toys, clothing, ceramics, handmade paper products, cards, books and foods.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114091156/637203289c7e80680e0b27f2jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1700" height="802"><figcaption></figcaption></figure>“Our mission is to reduce poverty by sourcing and selling fair trade goods from all around the world,” says Farey. “It is not just the individual artisans who make the goods that benefit from our work, but also their families and the communities in which they live.”Like her uncle, Farey is also a passionate trekker herself and has visited Nepal often. She says that in a way she is carrying on Mike Cheney’s mission: to uplift Nepali families by removing middlemen and guaranteeing them a just income.For Farey ‘fair trade’ is not just a concept, she is actually practicing it in her business through One World Shop which sources and sells sustainably produced products from around the world by ensuring a decent price which is ploughed back into their communities.During the pandemic, One World Shop was selling its products online even though supplies from Nepal were disrupted because of flight cancellations.

Edinburgh store comes full circle to Nepal

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114091156/6372031e9c7e80680e0b27efjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1920" height="1166"/><figcaption></figcaption></figure>Dear Y,You must have heard by now— Aji is no more. They took her to hospital in the middle of the night after she complained of chest pain and she passed away at around 4AM. Yesterday, Aji had been calling up everyone, apparently, and seemed perfectly alright. Her passing was sudden. I hope it was peaceful for her.It has been very hard for Maa. She is always <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/be-water/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">talking about her childhood</a> with Aji when we are together-- everything she does is punctuated by family anecdotes now. She says she feels like her childhood has been lost forever with Aji’s passing-- she was the last remaining to witness childhoods in Maa’s generation.All the children in the family grew up together. They were in a joint family before they built the new house in the front and the two brothers decided to become separate nuclear families. Before that, everyone lived in the old house, and all the girls slept on one floor and the boys on another. Parents on different floors. Also, I have never understood how the two ajis birthed so many children and still carried on with life.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/of-anger-and-love/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Of anger and love</a>, Pratibha TuladharThey were very close, the two ajis. People always said they were like sisters and not sisters-in-law. They depended on one another for everything. It must have been an alliance of comfort. Two women from two completely different families, united by their marriages, united by the kitchen they shared and the clothes they washed together and the aela they brewed together, no?When we were kids, they used to go shopping together. To New Road and Asan. I think they always started from New Road and the spree ended with a stop at Sweet Valley Indian eatery in Ratna Park. From there, they took a taxi home. As kids, we used to wait for them eagerly because the day they went shopping, we would always get a samosa each and nimkis and a barfee. Now, I think back and I imagine two excited women in their 40s, stopping with their many shopping bags at the Indian eatery to slurp down sweet milky syrups after gobbling down the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/hitting-the-sweet-spot-this-tihar/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">mithai</a> and digging their fingers into dosas, as they chatted about their expenses.Also, as a child I did not realise ajis were sisters-in-law. I think I was used to thinking of them as two elderly women who always did everything together. They were always buying lots of sarees, too. I have no idea, for what joy! Chirikama Aji also had these hobbies-- she would ask the children to paint her nails or to braid her hair. She liked to nap during the day and wake up to a snack of fruits and then order other people around the house.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/sita/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Sita</a>, Pratibha TuladharThey were matriarchs in their own ways, you see? They handled finances and brought up half a dozen children each, like it was a fun thing to do. But the men in that house failed them, I think.I have never really been able to figure out all the property wars they had in that house. I lived there more than I lived with my father’s family, so some memories are so vivid to me. It all began with a wall coming up swiftly in the centre of the courtyard. When the school bus dropped us home one evening, we were told to use the back door to enter, and not the front gate.From being one home, we went to becoming two families. Suddenly, the elders were not talking to one another, relatives had started taking sides. Nothing made sense to me as a kid. Only, that the courtyard where we played marbles and hopscotch was suddenly divided by a wall and none of our games would be the same anymore. Schools were changed. But at that time, I probably grieved the swing-- which was now on the other side of the wall-- the most.As years passed, distances started to fade and people came back together for weddings and funerals. But the awkwardness stayed in some ways. I have often wondered how it might have affected the two ajis who went from being best friends to being confined to two different sides of a wall because their husbands decided not to speak to each other.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/vagina-conversations/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Vagina conversations</a>, Pratibha TuladharAs I watched others bend down turn-wise to touch late Aji’s feet, I wondered about all those fights. I wonder what her thoughts had been on those events. No one talks about these things, you know? We now go about as if nothing ever happened.When I went forward to touch her feet, I noted her nails were painted bright red-- her fingers were so cold. Then I noticed that in the hall, on a table, bouquets had been laid out. Not fancy ones, just wild bunches. They were lying on a pale pink table cloth. I recognised it instantly.The two ajis had made it together. I recall them looking at a catalogue and following every step carefully. They had removed the threads in rows and then sewn them back in to make patterns on the cross-stitch fabric. So delicate, it strained their eyes. I felt like their stories must have converged when doing that kind of work. And it was when I was staring at that table cloth that my eyes welled up.When I go to funerals, I feel like I do not know how to react to the loss. I guess I was mourning the loss of a friendship the two women had shared. Such a big impact the decisions made by the patriarchs had on all our lives. I guess they were only matriarchs in the space that they had created for one another-- such a remarkable gift to give a sister.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/suburban-tales/wine-and-women-during-yenya/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Wine and women during Yenya</a>, Pratibha TuladharThe two ajis died twelve years apart, but in the same week. Maybe January was their favourite month.Just a long, rambling piece of family history for you. Speak soon.Love,SSuburban Tales is a monthly column in Nepali Times based on real people (with some names changed) in Pratibha’s life.

A letter to a sister

Architecture can be a powerful agent of change, shaping not just spaces but the way people live, connect, and experience the world.&nbsp; For Nepal, which is <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/natures-fragile-gift-to-nepal">gifted by nature</a> and rich in <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/ambassador-fund-cultural-preservation-nepal,2092">cultural heritage</a>, &nbsp;reviving rural architecture with modern amenities could hold the key to more <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/what-sustainable-tourism-means-in-practice">sustainable tourism </a>that benefits local people more. “<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/bayalpata-hospital-in-nepal-wins-global-design-award">Design and architecture</a> are amazing tools to create a unique experience for visitors,” says Spanish architect Tomeu Esteva of Esteva i Esteva Architecture Studio. “Difficult destinations have beautiful hotels with design and comfort.” Esteva was in Kathmandu with his colleagues at an event organised by the Spanish Honorary Consulate at Dwarika’s Hotel last week to showcase buildings which Nepali architects can adapt with local material and design inputs.&nbsp; Rural architecture holds a unique significance: it is more than a shelter and must reflect <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/inking-an-idenity">local identity, culture</a> and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/saving-humla-from-heritage-loss">heritage</a>. An area’s natural and cultural harmony can be upset by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/protecting-protected-areas-from-infrastructure?fbclid=IwAR1wK0MDFlFST_2EYb3f54LS4-fPt6rYfLG1DJ1JaQsU3w8-ezyXIxGOqzk">poorly planned development</a>, speakers at the event said, but the environment can be improved and revitalised by well-integrated structures.&nbsp; Another Spanish architect, Belen Moneo, has designed hotels at elevations of 3,700m in her home country Spain that supply natural spring water spas. “<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/lost-in-reconstruction">Creativity in construction</a> must be encouraged. Rural architecture always shows possibilities of what we can do better,” Moneo explains, adding that designs must enhance <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/the-healing-power-of-nature">the beauty of nature</a> and give a natural feel at a time when steel, glass and cement dominate <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/rebuilding-kathmandu-after-the-1934-quake">urban design</a>.&nbsp; This is why the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/weaving-nature-into-craft">use of natural products</a> such as bamboo, local timber, straw and rammed earth are in demand from customers who want a fresh eco-friendly look encouraged in construction of rural architectural structures. The demand for boutique hotels has increased world over, with &nbsp;more and more tourists favouring aesthetics, experience and comfort over price. While creativity is an important part of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/architecture-for-mountains">construction and architecture</a>, incentives to build and use <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Building,370">rural construction materials</a> still remain minimal, and Moneo emphasises the significance of design and execution.&nbsp; Esteva helped design the Vana Retreat in Dehradun that kept the natural environment in focus, with the structure giving an elaborate aesthetic experience to visitors. Another example is Hotel Las Mercedes in the Dominican Republic which was designed and constructed by Moneo and the company she co-founded Moneo Brock, respecting and revaluing the traditional architecture of the area. Hotels providing such experience could attract tourists and revenue. The Spanish ambassador to Nepal Juan Antonio March Pujol said, “The role of architecture and architects in developing tourism is crucial, not only in urban areas but rural settings as well.”&nbsp; The concept of rural boutique hotels gained traction in Spain during the 1990s, particularly in regions like Majorca with economic and environmental sustainability as the main focus. In Nepal <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/12-full-opinion/guiding-nepal-s-tourism-industry">the tourism industry</a> directly employs about 1 million people, and makes up about 8% of the country’s GDP. In Nepal, the stone homes of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/reviving-himalayan-vulture-and-culture">Mustang and Manang</a>, bamboo and mud structures of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-tarai-s-shrinking-forests">the Tarai</a>, and the Kathmandu Valley’s terra cotta tile skylines, graceful temples, and tranquil bahal courtyards are all examples of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-traditional-seismic-resistant-designs">Nepal’s traditional architecture</a>.&nbsp; Nepali architect Sarosh Pradhan has been working for the past eight years on the Brakka Village project in Manang Valley north of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/municipalities-want-to-manage-annapurna">the Annapurnas</a>. Other examples of this kind of rural architecture for high-end tourism are the Shinta Mani Hotel in Mustang and Khumbu Lodge below <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/mt-everest-pvt-ltd">Mt Everest</a>. Says Pradhan, “There are places in Nepal that radiate purity and embrace simplicity. Creating projects in such settings require deep reflection and thoughtful planning.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250421030444_a07a23f6b60fa89c0f35b9dc1aaf19937da4881e6bfb2e1858f3c27dff91729f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_19" data-image-id="20250421030444_a07a23f6b60fa89c0f35b9dc1aaf19937da4881e6bfb2e1858f3c27dff91729f" data-rendition-name="original" width="4608" height="2184" loading="lazy" alt="A new architecture for Nepal's tourism"> </figure>  Rural architecture is not easy, and sometimes more expensive. Inflation, energy efficiency, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/those-who-stay">the climate crisis</a>, and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/cost-of-living-in-a-big-city">increased costs of living</a> pose obstacles to sustainable rural architecture. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/forgotten-international-starchitects-in-nepal">Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal</a>, Anne Feenstra and Varun S Bapu Esteva says faith and trust between client and architect is necessary for any project to be successful. He adds that architects must practice being humble, the process of designing always involves learning and not imposing their ideas on clients. Nepal is uniquely positioned for the growth of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/hiking-up-the-benefits-of-tourism">rural tourism</a> because of its stunning countryside as well as its internationally renowned traditions in holistic wellness. Creating infrastructure that is small, thoughtfully planned and that respects both tradition and contemporary hospitality standards is crucial. “Projects in Nepal can be made cost effective by using materials from houses that have been brought down,” says Esteva. “Pilot projects involving <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/local-government-by-the-people-for-the-people-of-the-people">local people </a>and simple designing also helps the process.” <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/vacant-homes-become-homestays-in-nepal">The growth of homestays in Nepal</a> is a step in the right direction, but they are still a bit too rustic for the international traveller who also wants comfort and is willing to pay extra for it. Upgrading the facilities in homestays and ensuring that the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/an-archive-of-nepali-heritage">architectural heritage</a> of the locality is preserved using locally sourced building material could allow owners to charge more. Says Sangita Shrestha of Dwarika’s Hotel, “Our effort is to build upon rural architecture by empowering local communities and using what is available locally. We can fine tune and encourage indigenous design and training.” The vision goes beyond just boosting the economy, it is about building a future where tourism helps villages grow in a healthy and lasting way. Instead of using up resources, it gives back to the land and the people. It supports local communities by<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/staying-in-nepal-to-create-jobs"> creating jobs</a>, improving infrastructure, and protecting natural beauty. When done right, tourism can be a tool for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/progress-and-or-preservation">preserving culture and nature</a>, not harming them. Architects must therefore see their work as more than just designing buildings, they also need to care deeply about people and places, especially in rural areas that can benefit the most.&nbsp; With global interest in sustainable and off-the-beaten-path travel increasing, Nepal stands at the cusp of a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/missing-out-on-nepal-s-tourism-potential">tourism transformation</a> that values community-driven, eco-conscious hospitality. A mix of modern ideas and traditional knowledge could transform rural tourism in Nepal. Says Shrestha, “Young architects should spend time with <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/latest/the-unsung-heroes-of-conservation">local and indigenous communities</a>, listen to their stories, and learn from their <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/life-and-livelihood-in-remote-nepal">ways of living</a>. These communities have deep knowledge about the land, materials, and climate. If this wisdom is used in new designs, it can help create tourism spaces that truly benefit everyone.” &nbsp;

A new architecture for Nepal's tourism

Extract from an addendum to Nepal's Two Wars, Chapter 2 in the updated edition of Essays on Nepal: Past and Present by Sam Cowan, a retired British Army general with a long association with the Gurkhas. The book was first published in 2018, and republished earlier this month by FinePrint exclusively on Amazon. The addendum details a one-to-one conversation the author had in the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=8884">Royal Palace </a>with the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=8371">King Gyanendra</a> in November 2002 just after he had taken his initial steps on the road that ultimately led to <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=14681">the abolition of the monarchy</a> in Nepal in 2008. In the early evening of September 16, 2002, in my role as Colonel Commandant of the Brigade of Gurkhas, I had my second and last official audience with King Gyanendra to give him an update on the Brigade’s activities over the previous 12 months. I had some 6 or 7 such audiences with <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/preserving-king-birendra-s-family-home">King Birendra</a>.&nbsp; These were official affairs with the British ambassador of the day present, along with key <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=12233">palace officials</a> and a representative from Nepal's Foreign Ministry. The two monarchs were very different in character and temperament, but both treated me with the utmost civility and made the audiences as relaxed and easy for me as possible.&nbsp; It is, however, worth recording that when the official business had been covered, King Birendra, with a twinkle in his eye, often ended by asking, “Now General, what’s the gossip in London?” The second audience with <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=8026">King Gyanendra </a>was my last official act in uniform. We came back to Kathmandu in the first week of November (after treks) to stay for a few nights with our Defence Attaché before heading back to the UK. Waiting for me was a message from the Palace saying that King Gyanendra would like to meet me informally: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=6933">no uniform</a> and no ambassador.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250421080420_f9046f9882d4481781d14f2b64f18c7fbbea62562e1d74e3465de6d01fb43750.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20250421080420_f9046f9882d4481781d14f2b64f18c7fbbea62562e1d74e3465de6d01fb43750" data-rendition-name="original" width="1750" height="2406" loading="lazy" alt="Gyanendra crowned page 1"> <figcaption>Nepali Times Special Edition of 6-14 June 2001 with enthronement of Gyanendra. </figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250421080424_21333d6ae21828eb47fe3f849438d215fe2804460d47bb2896ef4aee4e895ad2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250421080424_21333d6ae21828eb47fe3f849438d215fe2804460d47bb2896ef4aee4e895ad2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1857" loading="lazy" alt="Royal massacre"> <figcaption>Nepali Times 22-29 June 2001 covering the royal massacre after which Gyanendra became king. </figcaption> </figure>  Although I had no idea what the purpose of the meeting might be, events in Kathmandu since I last saw the king put me on edge. On October 4, 2002, Gyanendra had dismissed Prime Minister Sher Bahadur Deuba, allegedly for failing to hold <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/what-goes-on-in-nepal-s-elections">elections</a>. He had put in place a new prime minister and a cabinet personally selected by him. When I heard the news on my travels, the people I met were generally supportive of the king’s actions. There was a general view that something had to be done, the country was going nowhere, and the king deserved his chance, not least to solve<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/latest/14-years-after-conflict-no-closure-in-nepal"> the Maoist </a>problem. Back in Kathmandu, views were not so sanguine. The chosen prime minister, Lokendra Bahadur Chand, was a relic from <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/mob-movement-and-mayhem">the Panchayat period</a> whose party had failed to win a single seat in the last elections held in 1999. Some of the chosen cabinet ministers had, to put it mildly, dubious reputations, and others had no record of proven competence in any field. There was a fear that the king’s real motive in dismissing <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/deubas-denouement">Deuba</a> was to start to reverse the democratic gains made since 1990. I informed <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-britain-mark-centenary-of-1923-treaty">the British ambassador</a> about the invitation. He was strongly against accepting it, which was probably the clinching reason for my decision to do the polite thing and accept it. On the evening of November 7, 2002, I presented myself at the royal palace, alone and in civilian attire.&nbsp; As in the past, the Military Secretary, Major General Vivek Shah, met and escorted me into the presence of the monarch. This time, however, he was politely asked to leave the room and shut the door behind him. King Gyanendra greeted me warmly and invited me to sit down.&nbsp; Read also:<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-ghost-of-monarchy-returns-to-haunt-nepal"> The ghost of monarchy returns to haunt Nepal</a>, Shristi Karki  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250421080424_e382af945d0ad2a04ae41fabe5393f793dd10f54cb1220f111c7c9e7423eb558.jpg" data-media-id="editor_15" data-image-id="20250421080424_e382af945d0ad2a04ae41fabe5393f793dd10f54cb1220f111c7c9e7423eb558" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="993" loading="lazy" alt="Gyanendra coup"> <figcaption>Nepali Times 4-10 February 2005 after king Gyanendra's coup imposed media censorship. anendra became king. </figcaption> </figure>  I had wondered, and to be truthful, had worried, not just about the purpose of the meeting, but about how the conversation might start and develop. I reduced my resolve to two points: be polite but speak candidly. The latter resolve was quickly put to the test with the king’s opening words: “Sam, [in previous meetings it had been ‘General’, you walk the highways and byways of this land more than most, tell me what the common man is thinking?” &nbsp;“Your Majesty, I have no idea what they are thinking, but they are waiting.” “Waiting?” “Yes, Your Majesty, they are waiting to see whether what you did some weeks ago in appointing your own prime minister and cabinet ministers is going to make any difference to their lives or whether it is just going to be more Kathmandu hot air.” “Everything is going to be difficult and is going to take time, a lot of time.” “Your Majesty, time is the one thing you don’t have. You must act quickly and decisively to take advantage of the opportunity you have created. Everyone knows that you have appointed these new ministers. Why don’t you get them in here one by one and tell them that they have three months to deliver a programme in their area of responsibility that is going to make a difference to people’s lives? Most will fail to do so. Sack them! It will be a powerful signal of your strong intent to deliver real change.” I can express the opening of our conversation in this way because just about every word is still etched in my mind. The king’s response to my last quoted words was to challenge me to give an example of something that could be delivered quickly. I can give a verbatim record of what I said in response to this unexpected challenge: “Health posts, Your Majesty, there is no shortage of them throughout the country as building them has been one of the sources of local corruption, but very few have any medicine to issue at present or have skilled people to assess and meet medical needs. Your Majesty, children are dying for lack of a few pills. Given the right priority, over a period, say of six months, every health post could be fully stocked with medicine and manned with trained people. This is something I could help to lead for you as I know it would have strong international backing. At last, people would know that you mean business.” As I warmed to the theme, I could see no sign of the king having any enthusiasm for the idea, and I quickly disengaged as it dawned on me, as it had clearly dawned on the king, that the reason for the deficiencies in health posts was to prevent any Maoist combatant from gaining access to any <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/tech-away/nepal-s-health-tech-industry-is-here-to-stay">medical support</a>, and if this meant people suffering, so be it. The subject of the Maoist insurgency inevitably came up, and I took the opportunity to elaborate on what is written in the final four paragraphs of the article above. I advised King Gyanendra that, self-evidently, since there were three parties in the conflict—him, the Maoists, and the political parties—it was imperative that he form an alliance with one of them, preferably the political parties; otherwise, he would find himself isolated, as the other two parties would inevitably, at some stage, form their own alliance. However, it quickly became apparent that the king’s mind was on a totally different track. On the Maoists, he told me that he had channels open to them, but he was scathing about the political party leaders. He made it clear that they would be waiting for a very long time before he gave any power back to them, and that is a polite way of expressing the actual words he used, but “crawling through the door” is a phrase which has stuck in my mind.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250421080424_5403455ff6168f0d202a96cb53edea69136d74d59b989cfcc7cc4a1d57672cb5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_17" data-image-id="20250421080424_5403455ff6168f0d202a96cb53edea69136d74d59b989cfcc7cc4a1d57672cb5" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1317" loading="lazy" alt="fall of monarchy"> <figcaption>Nepali Times 28 April-3 May 2005 with cover image by Ajay Joshi of jubilant protesters after street demonstrations sidelined king Gyanendra, paving the way for a ceasfire and restoration of democracy. </figcaption> </figure>  As the conversation developed, it became ever clearer that King Gyanendra had decided to go in alone, relying on the misleading assurances he was constantly receiving from <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=14954">the army</a>, and no doubt his close advisers, that the Maoists could and would be quickly defeated militarily, and taken out of the equation. This would obviate the need for him to do any deal with the political parties.&nbsp; Thus, the way would be clear for him to establish a version of his father’s Panchayat system, under a constitution that would be granted to the people by him, their sovereign, as his father and brother had done in 1962 and 1990. As in those constitutions, ultimate power would have remained in the sovereign’s hands. This proposed direction of travel was very clear from what the king said to me. In sum, King Gyanendra was motivated by a desire to emulate his immediate predecessors by granting his people a constitution that would restore his father’s Panchayat system in a modern form and give him a central role in decision-making. What was particularly dispiriting was that beyond this single objective he had no plan worthy of the name, nor demonstrably did he have the people with the skills to implement an appropriate plan even if one had existed. Crucially and depressingly, there was little or no indication from the king that he realised that such a course of action could put Nepal’s monarchy into serious jeopardy, as indeed proved to be the case. <h2>King Twice</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250420110436_315d519fe3d68d2406ebe1480fed54720fbf21b8907a4da5cde751fdc623d445.jpg" data-media-id="editor_19" data-image-id="20250420110436_315d519fe3d68d2406ebe1480fed54720fbf21b8907a4da5cde751fdc623d445" data-rendition-name="original" width="1302" height="632" loading="lazy" alt="“Tell me what the common man is thinking!”"> </figure>  <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=8371">Gyanendra Bir Bikram Shah has been king twice</a>. In 1950 he was enthroned briefly as a child king (left, above) by the Rana Prime Minister Mohan Shumsher when his grandfather, King Tribhuvan, fled to exile in India. In 2001 he was crowned king again after the massacre in the royal palace in which his brother King Birendra and nine other members of his family were killed by Crown Prince Dipendra.&nbsp; During his second reign, Gyanendra gradually asserted power by sacking Prime Minister Sher Bahadur Deuba in 2002, and then taking full control after the 1 February 2005 coup. He was sidelined after the ceasefire in April 2006, and became a commoner after the Constituent Assembly finally <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/from-nepali-press/Ftnp-abolishing,624">abolished the monarchy in 2008</a>. In the past year, Gyanendra has tried to exploit public dissatisfaction with the political parties to restore the monarchy.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250421080432_26ef4a4b0e3cee9fdc6794446702efe16550d293904b4f6dd46fe35d4d10c788.jpg" data-media-id="editor_22" data-image-id="20250421080432_26ef4a4b0e3cee9fdc6794446702efe16550d293904b4f6dd46fe35d4d10c788" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Essays on Nepal by Sam Cowen"> </figure>

“Tell me what the common man is thinking!”

“It's Kathmandu.” Just as the family was sitting down for one of its extended lunches, that jubilant cry was from François Driard’s grandfather announcing the next posting for his diplomat parents.&nbsp; Driard (pictured) was 18 in the summer of 1996,<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/suburban-tales/chasing-a-nomad"> a bit of a hippie</a> already, and his life was about to change forever with the magical word “<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/time-capsule-of-kathmandu">Kathmandu</a>”. “I was awed with that information from my grandfather, nothing else mattered … In France <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/tales-of-courage-and-suffering-cx95f89e">in the 1990s</a>, Kathmandu had a mythical aura,” Driard recalls. He came to Kathmandu for Christmas that year to visit his stepfather, the French Ambassador Michel Lummaux. It was to be the first of many visits during school holidays, before he decided to permanently settle down in Nepal. “Kathmandu, and Nepal, were very different then, it was magical, I liked the nature, the people, civilisation, temples, trees,” says Driard, who explored the country sitting on the top of buses. “Visitors talk about the crazy <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/cost-of-living-in-a-big-city">urbanisation</a>, traffic jams today, and all that is true. But Kathmandu has not <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/loss-of-soul-and-soil">lost its soul</a>.” After his stepfather’s tenure in Nepal ended, Driard worked as a business reporter for international publications but decided he did not want to be anyone’s employee anymore. In 2007 he landed in Kathmandu with €20,000 in savings to invest.&nbsp; He knew a few crucial things about himself: he liked food and nature, which is very much tied up with his upbringing--full of lively conversations during lunch and dinner at the family table between <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepals-yak-cheese-is-on-world-map">abundant cheese, wine and cigars</a>. So he decided it would be cheese, and registered Himalayan French Cheese and went to the French Alps for a month to learn how to make Tomme de Savoie. “<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-story-of-langtang-cheese">Cheese making is such an ancient craft </a>and so I thought I won’t need much money or studying which I hated and indeed, if you have a tamako bhado and fire you are set,” explains Driard. But Nepal’s temperature and humidity were not ideal, even at higher altitudes. The first customers for his cheese were the Hyatt Regency and Nina and Hager. But he needed to create a market for cheese in a country which only knew hard churpi in the north and soft paneer in the south. He started selling his cheeses at the Summit Hotel weekend market, expanding to his own 1905 Farmer’s Market which later moved to Le Sherpa in Maharajganj, where it is now, and also a market at Labim Mall in Pulchok. He had cow dairies in Nuwakot and Dhulikhel, and finally a yak cheese unit at 3,379m in Ramechhap. It was the yak blue cheese from here that went on to win a Gold Medal in France, putting Nepal’s French cheese on the world map. “People come and try our cheese at the market, they ask questions. There is a lot of education to be done about cheese,” adds Driard, who also has three cheese shops in the Valley. Driard now makes 25 types of cheese. The products are being noticed and every year he has French students coming to Nepal to learn the art of yak cheese making. “In France, one family or company makes one kind of cheese for generations. In that I’m very unique as a cheese artisan,” he says. “The students come in to learn but I tell them to also teach us something too, add another cheese to my collection.” Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/langtang-after-10-years">Langtang after 10 years</a>, Sonia Awale Being a foodie, Driard is now also dabbling in meat with his own charcuterie at Meatini with bacon, ham, sausage and pâtés. All of this is now served at his Emilio’s Pizza, a leafy hideaway in Lazimpat. His South Side in Moksh is probably the smallest wine bar in the world. “I call the process sublime,” says Driard of his ventures, which have grown organically. “You need the same temperature and humidity of 12°C and 80% for cheese, meat and wine.” Emilio’s speciality is the eight-cheese pizza (which has eight types of cheeses), and a pizza with bhutan topping (not the country but fried intestines and organs Nepali-style). He has opened a small branch at Courtyard in Pokhara.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250426070456_bacae302c040dc18eeecdeafda72ddf06a6d2cec138ea9be7e45fe94cdf8b5b3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250426070456_bacae302c040dc18eeecdeafda72ddf06a6d2cec138ea9be7e45fe94cdf8b5b3" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="8 cheese pizza"> <figcaption>Eight-cheese pizza</figcaption> </figure>  With two artisanal cheese units, two farmers’ markets, a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-meat-of-the-story">meat processing unit</a>, a bakery, and wine bar he now envisions a vineyard so he can add Nepali wine to his repertoire. Another future plan is to start up an agri-tourism business where customers can drink, eat and work in peace. In the past 20 years in Nepal, Driard has not always succeeded in his ventures but this hasn’t curbed his enthusiasm. He is learning as he goes, and like an old wine, Nepal is growing on him. Its slowness suits his French art de vivre with eating slowly outdoors, having conversation, importing less.&nbsp; “I have proven that with even a little money you can do a lot of things in Nepal,” adds Driard. “In the West, they easily invest half a million euros on a cheese factory, I invested 10 times less.”&nbsp;

Fromage, vin et charcuterie Népalais

Bhuthan भुठान starts with Bishnu Bahadur KC played by <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/dhuwa-smoke-telefilm,2671">Hari Bansha Acharya</a> on a call, requesting to speak to the visa officer. By this point, he had <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-should-now-allow-visa-on-arrival">applied for a visa </a>to Bhutan 10 times, but was denied each time. KC was a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-women-excel-in-sports-in-2024-z9ramyct">national football player </a>in Bhutan in 1988 before he and other Nepali-speaking Lhotsampa people were forced out of the country in the 1990s as part of the Druk regime’s ‘One Nation One People’ campaign. Over 100,000 Bhutanese Nepalis were forced out, driven across India and dumped in Nepal where they lived in seven<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/elderly-left-in-bhutan-refugee-camp"> refugee camps</a> supervised by the United Nations and other charities until they were resettled in the United States, Australia, New Zealand and some European countries starting in 2007. In the fictional movie with the satirical English title The World’s Happiest Man, KC has resettled in the state of Ohio in the US but wishes to visit his home country once before he dies. Between flashbacks, we learn KC has died without having fulfilled his wish. &nbsp; The drama then focuses on KC’s two families from two marriages as they debate whether to cremate him as per <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/from-nepali-press/muslim-hindu,2996">Hindu rites </a>or give him a Christian burial. A mediator played by Hollywood actor Bruce Dern urges them to take a firm decision before it is too long.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250430140420_b398a08091b866da2b0b8f6c1e6e26781609749aba896bfd2c68a10a519295c3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250430140420_b398a08091b866da2b0b8f6c1e6e26781609749aba896bfd2c68a10a519295c3" data-rendition-name="original" width="945" height="945" loading="lazy" alt="Bhutan, the movie"> </figure>  There are drawn out scenes of KC being baptised and when he is confronted by his first wife from Darjeeling played by Anuradha Majumdar, he says he changed his religion in the hope that he will be <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/bhutan-s-refugees-between-hope-and-despair">allowed back in Bhutan</a>.&nbsp; We find out KC has a second wife, a Christian Nepali played by Puja Chand. Dayahang Rai as the younger son doesn’t have much screen time to flex his acting chops. &nbsp; Acharya competently portrays a man that is equal parts haunted by the memories of and longing for his home country. KC’s pain and loss is acute when he is teaching football to Gungun but between mid-scene, he freezes, perhaps lost in memories of being in Bhutan’s national team. &nbsp; In another scene, KC recalls his mother singing a lullaby in Dzongkha. He also has a box filled with medals, photographs and a football which he deflates with a knife in a powerful depiction of his <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/searching-for-a-homeland-away-from-home?fb_comment_id=1506516030025634">complicated emotions about his homeland</a>. KC keeps checking his mailbox in the hopes that his <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=4977">visa application</a> has been accepted. He says in Nepali: “If a tree that has already struck roots in one place is shifted to another, it will not survive.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250430140420_4a9c27410326489576c04dedf40016bda3825e8f9663317f54fbfec4cbda6d34.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20250430140420_4a9c27410326489576c04dedf40016bda3825e8f9663317f54fbfec4cbda6d34" data-rendition-name="original" width="1422" height="2048" loading="lazy" alt="Bhutan, the movie"> </figure>  Dern’s character says that the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/nepal-s-transitional-justice-and-the-west-s-recalibration">western world</a> has become “lonely in pursuit of happiness”, another reference to Bhutan’s obsession with its Gross National Happiness index. Scenes shift quickly throughout making the story difficult to follow at times. The use of symbolism is a trite overdone. Nonetheless, भुठान is a nuanced depiction of raw pain and agony of losing one’s homeland. But one cannot help but leave the theatre feeling deflated. KC dies without having visited <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/small-bhutan-dreams-big">Bhutan</a>, but perhaps he does in his afterlife. It is up to the audience to create its own ending to this sad story of exile. भुठान Mad Monkey Films, 2025 Directed by Binod Paudel 102 minutes In cinemas in Nepal