Submit your Article

The British Council’s Learning Center in Lainchaur, Kathmandu was a hub of activities on Jan 14, Monday. The buzz was about a panel discussion ‘Exploring Intangible Cultural Heritage: Documentation, Archiving and Inspiration’ and official release of music documentary Manang, a Fuzzscape episode.

Fuzzscape is a multimedia project of Fuzz Factory Productions in which a team of creative professionas travel around the country to create song and documentaries related to various communities. Although Fuzz Factory initially became popular through their music videos, these days they also make quality documentaries.

The event started with the filming of Fuzzscape’s Bhojpur episode. In the episode, artists Barta Gandharba, Rajan Shrestha and Rohit Shakya travel to Mangding, a Gandharba village nestled in the red-mud hillocks of Jarayotar in Bhojpur district.

In the documentary, Shrestha and Shakya, the duo behind Fuzz Factory, along with Barta Gandharba, a local sarangi player and singer in Bhojpur, can be seen travelling from Mangding to Bhojpur Bazar. On the way, they interact with locals and make a video featuring local singers.

The screening was followed by a panel discussion where the artists shared their experiences during the making of the video. According to the artists, they wanted to give viewers something new to talk about, something that gets noticed and inspires others.

The event concluded with the official release of the music documentary ‘Manang’ featuring the horse-riding festival known as Yarthung in Manang. In this episode, artists Shrestha and Shakya travel to Manang with Karma Tshering Gurung a freelance photographer from Manang who is now based in Kathmandu to interact with the youth organizers of Yarthung and to make a song in the Neshyang language.

 After trekking extensively through many of the recog­nized and ‘touristy’ paths in Nepal, I finally decided to take on the upper Great Himalayan Trail for the Manaslu section last season. Not because I had heard a lot about the area, quite the opposite actually. I had not and I wanted to see for myself what this trail had to offer. Manaslu is the eighth highest mountain in the world, standing at an impressive 8,163 meters (26,781 ft) above sea level and located in the west-central part of Nepal. Its name, which means “mountain of the spirit”, comes from the Sanskrit word ‘manasa’, meaning “intellect” or “soul” and rightly so. For the Manaslu circuit trail is filled with mysterious lakes, ancient Tibetan culture and captivating monasteries.

 Trying to describe this experience in words is a daunting task

Trying to describe this experi­ence in words is a daunting task. I strongly feel it’s something you need to personally experience to fully appreciate the beauty and serenity that this trail has to offer. Every day of my trek was a gradual climb through forests, waterfalls and mountains.

The higher I went, the clos­er I felt to the mountains. For me, the highlight was reaching the ancient Tibetan settlements at Samagaon where everyone spoke only Tibetan language with the exception of a few youngsters. It sure was chal­lenging to hold a conversation there.

Even though we didn’t speak the same language, the native Tibetan ladies still extended their hospitality and I was reg­ularly invited to their homes for tea. Another highlight would have to be the Birendra Lake. As I was making my way towards the lake, I asked about it to a trekker returning from the lake. He simply replied, “It’s a place for the soul”, and I couldn’t agree more. I spent two hours at this lake, a place of peace and self-reflection, which had me returning as a much calmer ver­sion of myself.

Athough the trail is undoubt­edly one of the most beautiful in Nepal, not many people go here. This is mostly due to the fact that it has been designat­ed a restricted area in order to preserve its natural state. But this also affects local economy. Because few people go here the hotels and local businesses don’t gain visitors and then even fewer people hear about it.

I fear that this will result in a slow death of local cultures and customs. As we see in oth­er remote regions of Nepal, people invariably head to cit­ies in search of opportunity and stability.

“Although my passport says I’m a British citi­zen, at heart I’m still a Nepali,” says 39-year-old Binod Baral. Baral is a restaurateur, social entrepreneur and consultant chef who runs a restaurant called ‘Mo:mo and Roti’ in Wembley, London. He also operates a catering and consultancy business there called “Spice Pundit.” But “Mo:mo and Roti is my main business,” Baral says.

“I sell authentic Nepali dishes. You won’t get naan or tikka masala or tandoori here, unlike most restaurants that sell ‘roti’,” Baral says. “You rather get only authentic Nepali food and around 100 varieties of momos.”

He was only 18 when Baral, who originally hails from Pokhara, first set foot on English soil as a kitchen assistant. In just over two decades, his passion for cook­ing and hard-work has turned him into a successful hospital­ity businessman in England, and a proud member of the Nepali diaspora.

After serving Nepali cui­sine in London for all these years, Baral now wants to globalize Nepali food. Along with his Nepali peers from all over the world, Baral is campaigning for better promotion of Nepali food. He is also writing a Nepali cookbook, which he hopes will be a simple guide to Nepali-style cooking for everyone interested.

“Nepali cooking is no rocket science,” he says. “Our cuisine is just about the right heat, the right amount of spices and a lot of love and simplicity.” Given Nepal’s rich and diverse culture, Baral believes Nepali cuisine has the poten­tial to be as famous as Chinese and Indian food. He thinks lack of research and poor promotion have denied Nepali cuisine its due popularity.

"Gastronomic tourism is when the food and drink become the reason to visit a particular place. Nepal has that possibility"

Binod Baral, restaurateur, social entrepreneur and consultant chef

With almost a dozen invest­ments and involvements in Nepali hospitality business, Baral says “food tourism” could be a wonderful addi­tion to the list of promotional products for the Nepal Tour­ism Year 2020 campaign. “My maternal family are from Burma and their main occu­pation is hospitality business. I can proudly say cooking is in my blood,” he says.

In Nepal, Baral is involved in hospitality projects in Kath­mandu, Galchhi, Malekhu, Pokhara, Chitwan, Bandi­pur, Trishuli and Nuwakot. International exposure and thorough understand­ing of the food of ethnic communities around the country has convinced Baral of the country’s “gastronomic tourism” potential.

“Gastronomic tourism is when the food and drink become the reason to visit a particular place. Nepal has that possibility,” he says. “Our varied geography yield a variety of produces and each ethnic community has its own way of cook­ing. We have cooking styles dating back thousands of years, from the time of Bud­dha or Ramayana.”

Giving tourists a chance to eat at and experience tradi­tional Nepali kitchens can be a central feature of tourism promotion, Baral adds. Indig­enous communities like the Tharu, Gurung, Rai, Limbu and Newar have their own unique style of cooking with their own set of recipes and organic ingredients. “This may be of great curiosity to tourists who will want to know how they are prepared and how they taste,” he says.

Also involved in culinary education, Baral emphasizes the need for Nepali chefs to “learn, educate, train, pro­mote, inspire and celebrate” Nepali cuisine to give it global recognition. Baral has registered the Asian Culi­nary Academy in London, which he hopes will create a bridge between culinary arts of Nepal and the UK. The academy will create courses in partnership with Nepali cook­ing schools and train aspir­ing students from the two countries on Nepali and other Asian cuisines.

Famous businessman, media personality and pilot Captain Rameshwar Thapa has come out with a simple yet riveting account of his involvement as a chopper pilot in the decade-long Mao­ist insurgency. Because the war ended over a decade ago, its viciousness has faded from our memory. But we cannot afford to forget an era that has massively shaped contempo­rary Nepali polity and society. Barud Mathi Uddaa (‘Flying over explosives’) is a note­worthy addition to Nepal’s insurgency-related literature.

The book provides glimpses of the various battles fought between the then Maoist rebels and the state security forces. Although Thapa was a commercial pilot, he was sought after by the security forces to mount rescue oper­ations and send in reinforce­ments. Despite the danger inherent in the work, Thapa was ever ready to fly.

The book also traces Tha­pa’s journey from a poor rural family in Kavre to Rus­sia where he trained to be a helicopter pilot. Thapa then went on to become one of the most successful businessmen in the country. He even had a role to play in bringing top leaders together to reach the 16-point agreement in June 2015, which paved the way for the constitution’s prom­ulgation.

The book will be of inter­est to academics and to gen­eral readers alike. An English translation of the book is also set to hit the shelves within a year.