Choking Kathmandu

 

As I write I look at the air quality app on my phone. It shows a reading taken at Phora Durbar at 10.25 am as ‘very unhealthy’ at 276 PM2.5. That purple band across my phone is enough to know it’s a bad day. These little pesky airborne particles that are smaller than the diameter of a human hair are impossible to see but are too easy to get into our mouths, noses, and ultimately, lungs. Leaving the science behind, what the purple band across my phone means is everyone, regardless of how fit, is at risk at that given time.

 

I take a quick look at Delhi—which is currently at 182 PM2.5 (unhealthy and red), switch over to Beijing, which reads 46 PM2.5 (good and green). What? Beijing is notori­ous for being extremely polluted and Beijing’s air today is ‘good’ and Kathmandu’s is ‘very unhealthy’? I’m rechecking on Beijing and come across a Reuters article from December 2017 which states “Beijing may have turned a corner in its battle against the city’s notorious smog”.

 

Although the article goes on to say the current winter climate has a lot to do with the lowering of pol­lution and Beijing certainly isn’t out of the woods yet, Reuters gives credit to the Chinese government for introducing tough anti-pollution measures. This is food for thought indeed. There are a number of indi­viduals and organizations in Kath­mandu that are working for better air quality, and they indeed have their work cut out. Let’s give them a hand when we can. And yes, while it’s hard for the average person to make a dent in air pollution, it is possible to take little steps such as not burning rubbish and not having bonfire parties.

 

Meantime, what can we do now for our own health?

 

I have a friend who sells special masks designed to filter out pol­lution. I personally wear one of those blue surgical masks. A recent remark by a doctor about the paper masks being a ‘placebo’ got me look­ing at research. Tests have been done and those blue paper masks come out pretty good (80 percent filtration). Not as good as masks especially designed for wearing in pollution (80 to 95 percent). Unfor­tunately the blue mask fails when you take into account it does let air in through the sides when worn by a human and not a test machine.

 

Hmm… guess we have to either buy a more expensive, firm fitting (hotter) mask, or hold down the sides of our masks when walking! I remember when it was only a few foreigners wearing masks and what strange looks we got. Now I see a large number of locals wearing a mask when going about their lives.

 

Putting the causes of pollution and the impact on health aside (as if we can really), the other sufferer here is Kathmandu herself. Remem­ber how beautiful it was to look up at snow-mountains from almost any location in town, every day? From many viewpoints the foot hills and high mountains were spectacular in their respective greens and white. Many of us have flown into the valley and seen the crystal clear mountains and hills which take our breath away (in a good way).

 

We still get glimpses of course, after rain the sky of clear blue is a magnificent backdrop for the Hima­layas, and during the Dashain hol­iday there is less traffic to pollute the skies. But on an ‘average’ day, not so much. And it impacts the global image of the country. For many tourists the name Kathmandu conjures up an image of a green val­ley, white peaks and wonderful her­itage; how disappointed they must be when they arrive to smog, dust and dirt. Naturally when they go home, conversation will turn from their wonderful trek to the terrible air in Kathmandu…