Berkley Center

Roads are expanding in Nepal and this development is dusty. When I first arrived in Kathmandu on २७ September २०७०, I could not help but look up with what I thought was clear vision. The tree-covered mountains in the distance, the elaborate carvings on Hindu mandirs, and the gently waving prayer flags are simply stunning. They grab your eye, draw it upward, and make even Kathmandu’s urban environment seem almost pristine.

Now about a month in I am still looking up. However, my eye has begun to notice details and formulate questions that I had not previously had. A major observation, although semi-intuitive, is that the capital city is quite dusty. This is understandable seeing as Kathmandu is undergoing several road expansion projects. Even now, there are still few defined sidewalks. Instead, cement storefronts and time worn paths break from the grid and separate human from mechanized traffic. To our American eyes, the system may seem chaotic. However, the city is indeed developed and organized—just not in a manner that our eyes immediately pick up on. Further, the country itself is facing rapid development generally defined. Again, this is perhaps best manifested through road projects in both the Munang and Mustang districts, which have received international attention.

Roads are perhaps an archetypical symbol of development, not only in Nepal but also around the world. They are welcomed because they connect people together: their ideas, resources, and economies. But perhaps one of the most powerful and potent things they create is hope. Hope for greater food security in regions like Humla, better healthcare access, more trade of indigenous products, and increased tourism to some of the most beautiful, isolated sites on earth.

Road construction often has negative connotations to us in the United States. We take roads for granted. Yet we still see and condemn their construction as bearers of environmental degradation abroad. Yes, environmental destruction is inherently tied with road expansion—remember the animated cult film Fern Gully? However, the situation is more complicated than this. Nepali groups want roads because they offer hope of positive future change. They tie remote villages to larger cities, and thus even the small village farmer to the international marketplace.

But how realistic is this expectation in application? Do people understand the implications that rapid development and extensive road construction have now and into the future?

Development processes threaten the ethnoecological heritage and deep social ties that Nepal’s culturally diverse society has with its rich biodiversity. Road construction in particular not only crosscuts vitally important ecosystems in Nepal but also degrades and alters the sacred geographies essential to the very identity of indigenous groups.

At first glance, particularly to most biologists, religion and social relationships have little to do with natural resource management, conservation, and development projects. However to local people and social scientists, the links between conservation, religion, social issues, resource management, and land tenure are quite clear. National parks, community forest projects, and forest reserves are historically new in Nepal. But the land that they occupy is old and has a much longer, complex cultural narrative that is usually not considered during such projects. What does one do when his/her sacred geographies or culturally important resources are destroyed in the name of development? Thirty years ago people could swim in Kathmandu’s most holy river, the Bagmati. Today, it is so polluted with road dust and refuse that people do not want to go in it. Trash piles several feet high line its banks. But still, funeral services at Pashupatinaath, one of the most famous temples to Shiva in the world, still culminate with people entering the river’s waters and depositing their deceased’s crematory ashes in it. What happens when the river is so polluted that one cannot enter it without getting sick?

What does one do when endemic species with cultural influence go extinct due to the side effects of development projects? The Ganges River Dolphin is endemic to a few of Nepal’s rivers. This dolphin is intimately tied to the Hindu deity Ganga as her makara (or vehicle that connects the goddess to earth) to Nepal. What are the biocultural implications if the dolphin, a mythologized messenger between god and man, goes extinct? Erosion processes are polluting Nepal’s waterways and are even harming the health of cows that the state forbids people from killing.

With Nepal’s elections coming up in the near future, there is hope that a constitution will be created that will monitor this development. But if the election fails, how can a state with no constitution monitor its own development? Can Nepal protect its natural heritage by itself?

Metaphorically speaking, Nepal’s road ahead is unclear. It has yet to be forged. But with increased consciousness, its plans for development can begin to change toward one of greater ethno-ecological consciousness.