Strength through self-defense
Self-defense is an important skill, more so for people with disabilities. Various studies have shown that people with disabilities are more likely to experience violence and abuse than those without any physical limitations. Enter ‘Fightback’, a sexual violence risk-reduction education program that aims to build safety skills.
Since 2013, Fightback has been providing physical, psychological and oral trainings to people with disabilities. The sessions are conducted at educational institutions, NGOs, INGOs and corporate offices, and anyone between the ages of 12 to 60 can participate.
Bhawana Shrestha, marketing manager at Fightback, says the goal is to empower people and enable them to protect themselves from danger. Right now, those who want to get the training have to arrange the training location themselves.
Uddab Thapa Magar, chief self-defense instructor and second director at Fightback, has a team of martial arts student and national level Taekwondo players to help him with the training sessions. He says that among those with disabilities, it’s most difficult to teach self-defense to the visually impaired.
“In that case, you have to mostly rely on verbal instructions. You can tell them what needs to be done, but it’s not 100 percent effective,” says Magar. Nonetheless, the trainers at Fightback develop programs such that participants are able to by and large remember what they are taught.
Magar adds that people with different disabilities are trained separately to avoid confusions. This, he explains, is because what is a challenging task for one isn’t so for another. So, deaf people are given an interpreter, those with paralysis are taught how to use their immobile limbs as weapons when
in danger, etc.
The trainings are usually three to five days long and conducted for eight hours a day, starting with an ice-breaking session. In the ice-breaking session, the participants sing, tell stories and act in order to create a causal vibe.
“We want them to be comfortable with us. They shouldn’t hesitate to ask questions and share their problems during the trainings,” she says, adding that this ensures they are better able to grasp the teaching. These ice-breaking activities, Shrestha says, are customized according to group needs.
At the beginning, those with disabilities are also taught ways to recognize an attacker and to retaliate. Even blind people realize when someone is following them when they are alone, says Magar. “We teach them that if they are in such a situation, they should shout “ko ho?” (Who is there?). If someone holds their hands and tries to pull them, they should shout “chod” (Leave) while also doing some physical moves,” he explains. Likewise, those who can see but have other disabilities should shout “stop” loudly, and mul-tiple times. He says it’s important to appear confident and powerful before an attacker.
Before the training, the team meets and discusses the best ways to teach self-defense to that particular group. Though the aim is to teach partici-pants how to avoid being physically abused, retaliate and fight the abuser, Shrestha says the participants are also mentally prepared to know and avoid situations where they can be sexually abused, and to stay alert.
“The problem is that most peo-ple don’t even know when they are being sexually harassed or abused. We teach them to see the signs,” says Shrestha.Additionally, the trainings include talks about intuition skills, critical thinking, communication skills, fear and stress management, and online harassment.
Shrestha mentions that since 2013 the center’s curriculum has changed quite a bit with constant feedback from the participants. And they are expanding. Last year, they conducted training sessions in 12 districts of Nepal.
Anautho aath
Last week you might have read my column on the (hopeful) extinction of the plastic straw. But there are some species that we want to preserve, not see disappear. The People’s Alliance for Nature Nepal is doing what it can to highlight the plight of eight extraordinary species found here in Nepal. But who are the People’s Alliance for Nature Nepal? Formed relatively recently, the Alliance is made up of a group of activists, organic farmers, journalists, educators and eco entrepreneurs. Having initially been drawn together to save the Nijgadh forest, the Alliance believes in “solution based models and that best practices can be achieved by observing our age old practices, and actions pushed by love and empathy, along with technical expertise and well informed models.”
Having been called ‘anti-development’, I wanted to know if this is a correct assumption. “We have just one clear message—we need development not destruction. We believe development is achievable without destroying forests and rivers and gambling with the future of our children,” explains Shristi Singh Shrestha, an animal rights activist and Alliance member. The Alliance works with three models: campaigning and advocacy; formulation of a resource centre, and awareness raising on the anautho aath. The later identifies eight species native to Nepal that are in dire need of protection.
An event with the aim of highlighting these species was held recently, when the Alliance worked with Life Vision Academy’s, first children’s theatre group in collaboration with “Earthbeat Live”. At that event were representatives of groups and clubs such as AWON, Inner Wheel and the Jane Goodall Institute. “For this event we were offered sponsorship from corporate entities but we refused. It is important we do not take money or sponsorship from corporations who pollute our rivers, air, soil and natural resources,” continues Shrestha.
“We incorporate experts, artists, entrepreneurs, children and people from various fields to come together and collaborate to formulate solution-based initiatives, and the extraordinary eight was one of these initiatives.” With 23 eco-entrepreneurs putting up stalls at this event, and with the participation of children and their families, I am told the event had an unintentional result of creating a family of nature loving and concerned people.
During this celebration of nature, nine bands gave their time to ensure the event was both lively and gained as much coverage as possible in the fields of music and arts. Each band was requested to choose an extraordinary animal and take a pledge to highlight its uniqueness through their music.
I asked a couple of the bands what their commitment means to them. “We adopted the bumble bee because bees are essential to all life. Without bees the world would come to a dreadful end for humans and all other beings. As artists we will make people aware of the impact bees have. This should not be taken lightly. We have taken a pledge to save the hope of the next generation,” said a member of the Phosphenes band. Similarly I am told, “we have adopted river dolphins because, like musicians, they communicate just by using sounds. You can say we are sonically related,” laugh the members of Kanta Dab Dab. “But seriously, we heard about the dolphins in the Karnali River when we started our music journey some 20 years back. Now we have learnt there are only 10 or 12 dolphins left there. We are thinking along the lines of creating music related to the plight of the river dolphins in Nepal. Until then, we will be verbally spreading the word at each of our events.” In conclusion, Shrestha states, “the Alliance will continue working to raise awareness to help save all endangered entities—whether trees, animals or landscapes.”
For further information on how you can help save these extraordinary yet threatened species, see the People’s Alliance for Nature Nepal’s Facebook page.
One man’s quest to preserve Nepali ethnic music
“The idea is to fuse our tangible heritage like this temple premises with intangible heritage like ethnic music,” says Lochan Rijal, the head of the Kathmandu University’s Department of Music. “We want to restore this place to its former glory and give continuity to its traditions while also creating an environment for pure teaching and learning.”
The ambitious project has only crossed its infancy. The idea of an institution that preserves both ethnic Nepali music and an almost forgotten heritage site is commendable. But there is no shortage of vested interests that are hindering reconstruction. Squatters who have unlawfully taken over the guthi land refuse to move. Some of them are living with their families and some have established businesses within the premises.
Kathmandu University—an autonomous, not-for-profit, self-funding public institution—signed a formal agreement with the Guthi Sansthan in 2016 to use the Tripureshwor Mahadev temple premises for 30 years (five years for construction and 25 years for operation). The condition was that the university would rebuild all the physical properties in the area and give continuity to the temple’s traditions.
The temple property starts from the main Tripureshwor road and extends to the bank of the Bagmati River on the Kathmandu side. The temple itself was built in 1818 AD by Queen Tripura Sundari in the memory of her deceased husband King Rana Bahadur Shah. The queen is also recognized as the first female writer of the country and her other recognizable feats include the construction of a bridge that joined Kathmandu and Lalitpur (in Kunpodole) and commissioning Prime Minister Bhimsen Thapa to build the Dharahara.
On paper, the site, excluding the part of the river bank which KU has the permission to use, is 12 ropanis (approx. 65,700 sq. ft.). But when Rijal, who came up with the idea and took up the responsibility of completing it, began to inspect the area, he found squatters encroaching on most of the property. Around 20-25 families were living within the premises when he started reconstruction in 2016.
Brick by brick
“Many families have since moved,” Rijal says. “But there are a few rigid ones who took us to court. We have had more than half a dozen court cases, all of which we have won,” Rijal says. Moving them out is still difficult because of the pressure from the locals and other communities. He fears the project might not meet its five-year completion deadline despite his team’s
best efforts.
The project began with Rijal’s idea of creating an ideal environment where ethnic Nepali musicians from all over the country could be employed in teaching interested students. At the same time, if the idea caught on, at least one heritage site could be saved as a public institution.
The rebuilding of the Mahadev temple and the relocation of the KU Department of Music to the site is not profit-oriented, Rijal informs. “Gone are the days when people built temples and took care of them out of sheer devotion,” Rijal says. “To preserve a heritage site like this, a public institution needs to be involved. This is the KU’s vision. Moreover, we want to start a movement whereby all of our traditional heritages are protected by institutions that can care for them.”
At KU’s current Department of Music in Bhaktapur, the university permits only 27 students in the Bachelor’s program. For the Master’s, only a handful of students are chosen. KU also accommodates international students and has exchange programs for its own students. The department, when it starts operating from Tripureshwor, aims to enroll around 400 students in different courses. Rijal is also planning a Master’s program where students will research extensively on music from various parts of the country and create an ethnographic Nepali music atlas. The bigger plan is also to devise school curriculums that include Nepali ethnic music and to build learning centers in musical communities across the country.
From near and far
The Department of Archeology estimates resurrecting costs of Rs 290 million. But Rijal intends to complete the project with the Rs 200 million he has. After all, he began the ambitious project in 2016 with only Rs 1.9 million. At the time, Nepali as well as international musicians had organized concerts to collect funds. His PhD supervisors from the University of Massachusetts had also put together some funds. (Rijal is the first Nepali to get a PhD in Ethnomusicology, completed jointly from KU and UMass.)
KU approved his vision and gave him an additional Rs 20 million. He lost no time in getting his dream project started. The Thai government then gave him $1.49 million (roughly Rs 167 million). This Government of Thailand donation to KU’s Department of Music was put together by Thai citizens to help rebuild Nepal after the 2015 earthquake.
“Although we have a sizable budget, we will still took to stick to our budget and time limits. To help the cause, as a project director, I take no remuneration. The only remuneration I get is from my classes at KU,” Rijal says. “But there are people out there who want to ruin this project for their personal benefit.”
Rijal points to a private NGO that operates a folk music museum within the temple premises. The NGO’s contract with the Guthi Sansthan is up. Despite the countless efforts of the university as well as the government to relocate the museum, the owner refuses to do so. The NGO instead filed a lawsuit against KU, which the court has decided in the university’s favor. Yet the NGO continues to stay put and to defame KU.
“They have been spreading rumors that KU is a private organization which is going to misuse guthi property. But how can a university whose chancellor is the country’s prime minister be a private institution?” Rijal asks. “They even claim that I am an anti-Hindu and I am doing all this to destroy the temple’s heritage and promote some other religion.”
But Rijal himself comes from a Brahmin family who have followed Hinduism for generations. As for the traditions of the temple, Rijal informs that the university plans to give continuity to the old tantrik rituals at the temple. KU will also provide accommodations to the pujari family that has traditionally performed the rituals.
Fingers crossed
With technical support from his site supervisor Sushil Rajbhandari—who leads a team of more than 100 workers in both day and night shifts—and the knowledge of heritage expert Rohit Ranjitkar, the project’s chief architect, Rijal stays on site to ensure smooth rebuilding. There have been security issues in the past, but Rijal is determined to carry out his responsibility. Prime Minister KP Oli has himself visited the project site and applauded Rijal’s efforts. But the government is yet to provide security to the site and the workers.
For Rijal, there is nothing more important than completing the rebuilding by the target 2020 timeline.
“I am scared that if we fail to complete the project on time, many stakeholders will lose interest and a great dream will die. I have nothing to take from this project besides the satisfaction that I am involved in saving our country’s tangible and intangible heritages which otherwise might go extinct,” says the 40-year-old Rijal, who is also a passionate musician and one of Nepal’s most awarded singers.
The end goal is not only to preserve the temple while creating a space for musicians to study, but also to change music education. Musicians from local communities given opportunities to teach. “The music school will make our music inclusive. All religion-, race- and caste-based music that had been limited to particular communities will now be open to everyone,” Rijal says. With the right skills, anyone from any background will be able to become a musician or a music teacher, he adds. “The world will then recognize Nepali music as a single entity and Nepali musicians will flourish”
The man behind the funky rock n’roll sounds
No, he’s not popular or famous. At least not among the wider Nepali audience for whom the genre he plays has almost become obsolete. But for the musicians and the aspiring entrants to Nepali rock, Satish Sthapit is a name they revere. Be it established the live musicians who have been performing in concerts around the country or the beginners who have just started their rounds in Kathmandu’s pub-circuit, Sthapit is a musician they all look up to.
Sthapit, now 47, was born and brought up in Kathmandu. He grew up in the Lagan tole, in close proximity of Basantapur, where he spent his childhood scrounging for cassettes of famous international artists to listen to. After his School Leaving Examination, his friends wanted to learn guitar in the break. Fearing he’d be left out, Sthapit joined the legendary music teacher CB Chhetri’s guitar classes in New Road out of whim, and thus his musical odyssey began.
In 1989, Sthapit joined the local band ‘Vampire’ comprised of his neighborhood friends. “Thrash is what we listened to in those days and thrash is what we started playing,” Sthapit recalls. After playing a few concerts with the band, he decided he would have a new outfit, and with friends who connected heads with him musically, he formed Newaz in 1990. Newaz then released its debut album in 1991 and quickly became one of the most popular bands in Kathmandu’s rock scene.
Newaz played live shows in the pubs of Thamel, along contemporaries who could be counted on fingers. From the early 90s, they also started doing outdoor concerts, which were more common in those days, performing for enthusiastic youngsters of Kathmandu. The band’s popularity was recognized by a group of Finnish filmmakers who made the documentary “Kathmandu Rock N Roll” based on the band members and their lives in Kathmandu. Newaz, supposedly a rock n’roll outfit, saw through and explored for themselves the transition of Kathmandu’s musical taste from heavy metal/thrash to rock to grunge.
From the beginning, as a young boy who just wanted to learn guitar so that he could be with his friends to becoming a rockstar of Kathmandu in his late-teens/early 20s, Sthapit’s passion for music only got stronger. But the more serious he got about music, the more worried he became about not finding proper studio technicians and sound engineers to record, mix and master his music. “I got so sick of asking people to help us record our music and then ending up with unsatisfactory results that I decided to learn sound engineering myself,” says Sthapit.
Sthapit made the big move in 1996. He left for Australia to study sound engineering and to explore more music in the developed country. During his stay there, he managed to get a Bachelor Degrees in Sound Engineering from SAE Sydney and to play music with different bands of the city. “Education and experience” is what he got from his stay there. It would be 17 years before he decided to head back to his native country.
He returned to Nepal in 2013 and revived the band Newaz with its original member Roshan Kansakar on the bass. The band has since been performing original music and a few selected covers in shows and concerts in Kathmandu. Sthapit also started a home studio in the underground basement of his house in Lagan, the same room where he used to rehearse with his bands almost three decades ago.
The ‘studio underground,’ as musicians sometimes refer to his studio without a name, hosts recording artists who are unsigned, non-commercial and are looking to break into the music scene with their creations helped by Sthapit’s production skills. The role of a music producer is the most underestimated job in the Nepali music industry but the awareness for quality is gradually growing.
So Sthapit has been ‘hanging in there,’ as most of his contemporary musicians like to put it. “I come from a time when rock music was associated with drugs and violence,” Sthapit says. “But I’m happy to have been able to continue my music through everything. I feel lucky.” Lucky is what the bands that he cuts out the singles and albums for feel. As well as the audience who get to witness him live in action with his band Newaz.
Sthapit also dons the cap of organizing musical events for genres that commercial event companies do not dare pursue. After successful campaigns with grunge and rock music, 2019 will be the fourth year of his dream project—the Kathmandu Blues and Roots Festival. What started in 2016 as a small fundraiser blues event after the 2015 earthquake has now taken a magnanimous turn. The expected revival of the blues has taken speed and last year’s festival saw a half-a-dozen local blues artists perform alongside an international act in the event with an audience of around 1,500—a big number for the blues. “We hope this year’s event will be even bigger and more people with attend,” says Sthapit.
