Lessons from the past


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A great amount of knowledge lies in villages but we rarely think about reaching out to the locals for this knowledge when we try to address the problems they face.


The name of the pond in the picture is ‘budhaa le khaneko pokhari’ literally meaning a pond dug by old man. I was more than thrilled when I saw this pond in one of my field trips to Kavre. Though the ponds in the villages have some kind of local names such as sano pokhari (small pond) thulo pokhari (big pond) and so on, but it was the first time that I came across a pond with a sign post, named after the budhaa who dug it. The reason why it had a nicely written sign post is because the pond was right at the entrance of an army post that helped preserve it along with its name.

In recent days, the importance of dug-out ponds has increased more than ever before, and will continue to be so, because the local water sources and the springs in the hills have been progressively drying or have already gone dry in many places when the demand for water is increasing by the day. Change in rainfall pattern, change in land use, and most importantly utter disregard to the age old way of managing rainwater have perhaps collectively led to depletion of water yield in all local sources. As a result, the conventional technique of bringing water from far away sources using pipes, which has been a major programme of all development plans of the last 4 decades, has also been unfeasible in many places because the sources have shrunk all over. In addition, people are more concerned about sharing their water sources with others. Therefore, water managers find it increasingly frustrating to operate water projects and provide required water to the users in the face of reducing yield in the sources.

Despite tons of material and information produced by thousands of researchers in the last several decades about how to manage water, we have landed in a situation with water problems  becoming acuter in the period when a substantial amount has been invested in water projects and its research.

Water is a local issue. It is as diverse as the landscape. Where would one find diverse landscape than in the hills, which are not just naturally raised area of land but a complex system of geology and topography that regulate water flow within a watershed boundary? Without understanding the local geological complexity, managing local water will not be easy. In essence, we have yet to understand how water is regulated by every watershed (they are all different because of their diverse nature).

We are fortunate enough to still have some of the work done by people like this self-motivated budhaa who had knowledge of water conservation and energy to dig ponds, which lasted for decades and continued to provide water to the local sources.  But we failed to understand what they did for the larger good of the community, and perhaps of the nature. Therefore we built roads where ponds existed before (picture below).


A great salute to this selfless ‘Budhaa’ (who is no more now) for leaving something to learn about the importance of ponds by digging this one.

The army post deserves appreciation for preserving it for us to observe.

But a big question remains: with the rising rate of depopulation in the hills do we still have selfless ‘budhaas’ to continue digging ponds?

With support from Irene

Until next

Madhukar Upadhya

Highs and Lows of the ‘Spout of Wisdom’

Stone spouts were, and in some cases they still are, key water sources for communities in the major urban areas in Kathmandu valley. Many of them have either been neglected after the piped water system came into existence about 5 decades ago or were damaged by various types of construction. They dried out completely.  A glaring example is that of the stone spout of Sundhara (the golden spout), which ceased to flow after the construction of a commercial building nearby.  Many others turned into scum ponds when the holes that drained the spout water were blocked or damaged while foundations were dug for commercial and residential buildings. However, there are still many which provide water to the local community, though their condition has gradually deteriorated.

Good or bad, dirty or clean, maintained or dilapidated; the level of water discharge in the stone spout is important for local people who depend on them for their daily water needs.  But the discharge is not always same like in our kitchen taps which most of us are used to. During monsoon, the discharge is high whereas it declines gradually as the winter progresses. The rainfall that we get in winter, which is believed to be about 20 percent of the total annual rain, does not contribute to the water flow of the stone spouts.  When the discharge shrinks it not only affects access to water but also creates conflict among people who are already tired of standing in line for hours to fill their jars. A higher discharge is good news because it serves many people in a very short time.

So, just out of curiosity, I wanted to assess the seasonal discharge between summer and winter in Gyandhara, a popular stone spout of Gyaneshwar. Gyandhara literally means ‘spout of wisdom’. It yields 15 times more water during the rainy season  than it does in winter.  To be exact, the discharge is a liter per minute in winter (picture on left: May 2016) while it is 15 liter per minute during the rainy season (picture on right: September 2016), which starts to decline towards October and becomes quite low in May-June.

I have seen how crowded Gyandhara used to be until the 1970s. After the municipal supply from Sundarijal provided private connections, the number of users declined. However, even today, there are a reasonable number of people who collect water from this spout. In winter, when other sources dry out, the number users rise exponentially. People from faraway places also come here and that is when the discharge becomes a liter a minute.

In an age where we are constantly aware of what is happening around us locally as well as globally in areas of environment and climate change, politics and economics, social justice and individual freedom; unfortunately, these traditional sources of water are gradually slipping out of our conscious minds. Today, we literally learn from the world every second of our passing lives, yet we have failed to learn from the ‘spout of wisdom’.

With support from Irene

Until next



Race Against Time: Jhiku Khola in Panchkhal

For our regular annual field visit, last week we visited Panchkhal. This was our 10th visit to Panchkhal in the last 10 year, which we have been doing every summer since 2007 to study the water problem in the area from below the town of Dhulikhel to the valley of Panchkhal. The incentive for us to visit the same places and talk to the same families every year is the fact that one could see the progressive decline in water availability in the area year after year, and examine the responses being made from national to local level to solve the water problem.

Every year the mere sight of drying springs and wells gave us goose bumps; it made us realize how fast the water has been disappearing in the area. We kept asking where had the water gone? The visit this time, however,  was quite depressing because the stone spouts that had gone dry after the earthquake near the village of Khawa  did not flow even during the monsoon last year. The farms and the homestead garden of the villagers have turned into barren slopes. We realized that the aquifer that provided water to the stone spout has been squeezed so tightly by the Gorkha Earthquake of April 2015 that it will probably never flow again. We can only wait to see what happens this monsoon.

In the same place, there is a well dug by a local entrepreneur in a rocky slope on the road side. This well was dug two years ago by shear chances. It so happened that the owner, a hotel entrepreneur, was cutting the rocky slope to make space to open up a road side restaurant.  While cutting through the rock, he saw some water seeping out of the cracks in the rock, which he was so happy to see in a water scarce hill slope. He then built a well about 30 feet deep using concrete rings in the same spot, which is now in the kitchen of his restaurant. The well provided water to him and his neighbors until last year. This time, the well has almost dried and it barely yields enough water for his family and restaurant.

Further down at Tin Piple, there is a small well on the road side that was kept under lock and key since 2013, when the water in the well decreased substantially. The local people would open the well twice a day to distribute whatever water was collected in the well in the morning and evening.  About 20 households would queue up before the village leader would open the well to distribute the water. This arrangement continued for about two years until the Gorkha Earthquake of April 2015. Meanwhile, several other initiatives were taken by the villagers, including a weeklong recital of Bhagwat Gita (in Nepali saptah lagaune) to generate funds to drill a deep well in the hill, which they did in hopes of bringing enough water to the village. Not only did they not yield enough water through the new well, but the water also didn’t taste very good. Therefore, they continued to use the old drying well which they had kept under lock and key as their source of drinking water until the earthquake.

After the earhquake, when we visited the Tin Piple area in May last year, the drying well did not have the lock and metal door. They were removed because the water yield had increased so much that not only did it fill the 2 feet deep well, but it was flowing out of the well.   Obviously, there was no need to keep the well locked. The only reminder of the water shortage pre-earthquake was a small metal frame that was wielded around the well hole, was still hanging there. Everything else including the locking hinges and metal door has been removed.

But this time the well was in a dilapidated condition. It was almost dry and hardly yielded few buckets in a day. A well that was an accessible source of water on the roadside for the villagers as well as to the drivers on the highway, is now in ruins.20160514_125527

The Jhiku Khola, the lifeline of Panchkhal,  which was fed by thousands of wells and springs like the ones described above have ceased to flow even in the monsoon (see photo), precisely because the springs have dried out gradually over the decade. With this, the vegetable farming has dwindled and income of farmers has dropped substantially. All hopes of reviving the water system through local efforts have consistently failed. Putting new wells has become the only remedy left for the local people to draw water from shrinking water source, which will reduce water availability further rapidly in the days ahead. The impact of the EQ on overall water sources and aquifers is anybody’s guess, and will be clear only with the passage of time.

During each visit, we asked ourselves some questions. Who is it that the villagers can go and talk to in order to find a solution to the long term problem?  Which institution/s should be held responsible for, at least, taking note of the situation? There are at least four ministries that are closely related to water source development and utilization. The Ministries of Energy and Irrigation use available flowing water – the blue water. Ministry of Forest and Agriculture depend on available soil moisture – the green water. But none of them have any programmes to address the declining water sources.  In such case, which institution is it that would take initiative to restore water sources? And without flowing water, how would irrigation or energy or forests or agriculture further their sectoral objectives in Panchkhal? How is the state connected with this saga?

Slight showers have occurred in the valley since last week, which lowered the mercury and helped clear the valley air by reducing the dust blowing from unfinished road expansion work.  The light showers, in of itself, have been a respite for people who were hit by the scorching sun and polluted air. However, these rains have not reduced the problem for farmers waiting to sow maize. Nor did it help to augment water supply in places such as Panchkhal.

The bad news is that there is no institution to look after declining water sources. Future of millions of people in rural Nepal and Nepal’s economy largely depends on availability of water for farming. The emerging water context does not seem to be encouraging. It’s been more than a decade since the problem has surfaced in many parts of the country and has only grown deeper. Now, it’s turning into a race against time for people in places like Panchkhal.

Until next


Water Wars: The Crisis Awakens


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The El Nino of 2015/16 has been one of the strongest with severe impacts felt in many parts of the world including South Asia. In India, for example, water shortages in already water scarce areas of Maharashtra and Bundlekhanda have been quite  severe. In order to meet the minimal water needs of the people, the government transported water to the area using railway bogies. The situation in Nepal is not as severe but much more difficult to deal with due to its poor infrastructure, institutions, and resources.

In Nepal, water shortages have been seen from districts of Panchthar in the east to Bajura in the west and from Siraha in Terai in the south to Gorkha in the north. Most  small streams and springs in the mountains have dried. Water levels in the rivers have been at their lowest. Groundwater in Tarai has significantly depleted. Of course, nearly 31 districts in central Nepal were also affected by the 2015 earthquake which damaged or deformed the aquifers leading to a temporary rise in water discharge in the springs, but which have reduced and dried up thereafter. The water shortage across the country is, perhaps, an indication of an emerging problem which is not only large in size and coverage, but something that is poorly understood. Hence, the current water shortage needs to be looked at from a different perspective than just a normal dry period following a failed winter rain.

In city areas where the municipal water corporation supplies domestic water, water is supplied to the consumer through tankers, but the shortages caused by the drought is also affecting farming and other water consumers. There has been no plan of action on the government’s part to address such problems. Conflicts near the water sources in regards to the allocation of water have been common, but with growing shortages, it often turns into minor scuffles and physical spats.


Stone Spout in Gyaneshwar, Kathmandu. Only a tenth of the flow remains (1 liter per minute)

The critical thing that we need to realize is that our capacity, as a society, to deal with unprecedented events is very limited. The EQ has further illuminated the limitation of our institutions and bureaucratic machinery to plan and address problems when they happen over a large area affecting thousands of people, who need support both in the short and long terms.

Here is a need to focus on the following key areas.

A general understanding about water as a key natural resource has been that more trees equals more water. Therefore, deforestation was blamed for all floods and water shortages ever since the environmental movement began in the 1970s in Nepal.  The good news is that after the successful implementation of community forestry, the greenery has improved significantly and, as claimed by the latest survey of 2015, the forest covered has increased from 39.6% to 44.75%–a significant increase from the initial goal of 40% cover. But then, why is water shortage increasing despite a significant increase in forest cover? It only raises the question that we have misunderstood or exaggerated the forest–water relation. It is not as simple as it was believed to be without any evidence.

A recent study by South Asia Institute for Advanced Study (SIAS) in Roshi Khola watershed revealed that in a small watershed which has a forest cover of near 85%, the water discharge in the river has declined gradually.

The demand for water is increasing with increase in population as well as in economic activities and the change in lifestyle of people. Without an improved understanding of the degree to which the demand for water has increased and a blueprint of how has it put pressure on each of the local water sources in water scarce areas, it is unlikely that we will be able to solve the emerging water crises in the days ahead. The conventional approach of tapping into additional sources within the watershed or inter-basin water transfer to provide water to meet  the demand will not work because; i) there is less water in all possible sources because of a reduced yield across the country, and ii) there is already a growing sense of ownership of the resources and local people are unwilling to share water to the communities outside the watershed as they did in the past. The question of payment for water also may not be an answer because of visible decline in water at local sources and increasing demand.

The drought has not only caused a momentary problem but has also shown what lies ahead in the future and where our weaknesses lie in terms of institutions, policies and our understanding of water and its management. Gone are the days when we took monsoon rain for granted and expected it to fill all our aquifers which would continue to supply us with water throughout the winter.  Now, we need to realize that a major change has occurred in local water cycles. The August Springs (also called the Saune Mul in Nepali), which burst into life for a  month or so in August, are indicative of the fact that the aquifers in the hills have fully recharged and are capable of yielding water for a long period in the dry months of winter. Unfortunately, in many areas in the hills and mountains, the August Springs have not burst in the last decade. It only means that the aquifers have not been fully recharged to provide water in the dry period. The reason why the aquifers have not been fully recharged since so long is not known. It is definitely not deforestation as we have believed it to be for many years. Water in that sense has been a neglected field of development and always taken for granted.

We did enough of leap services. We marked many Earth Days and Water Days, and vowed to take steps to manage water. We talked brilliantly about managing and saving water. But, in reality, we have neither learned to manage water nor have we learned to save it, let alone actually doing it. Our understanding about water has not improved. The way we (mis)use water remains as it was when there was plenty of water for a limited number of users and limited economic uses. But things have changed and changed for good. Now, there are a lot more users trying to tap water from the same sources, which are declining in yield.

For people in the village of Bhakunde Besi in Kavre, water shortage began in 2007, when they failed to plant paddy due to insufficient rain and reduced flow in Dapcha Khola, which flows through the valley. They still hope that someday the river will have enough water for them to irrigate their farm.  There are many such areas where people have suffered due to water shortages for years and yet remain hopeful that the situation will improve one day. But the fact remains that their woes have only deepened further with the current drought and will continue to get worse with current management.

There is a need to look at the entire water issue more seriously and begin to prepare for what lies ahead, which is a more intensely amplified case of ‘too much’ water in the monsoon and ‘too little’ water during the rest of the year.

Unit next


Bayaasi maa ke hola (What will happen in 2025)?


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We all get involved in casual discussion every now and then and end up agreeing or disagreeing on issues without any obligation to own it or be part of it. When such discussion focus on subject such as environment or climate change in which one does not need to provide immediate answers to or show proof of, the discussion can drag on inconclusively to many possible directions. As a result, we fail to connect ourselves with real world, or find a common agenda. In a way, we only waste time.  But, sometimes while discussing issues without being seriously involved in, a sudden and unexpected casual question asked without much thinking can really set a point of reference for a serious discussion and force participants to look for answer that they would hardly have thought important.

A similar thing happened last week when a group of masters level students of environment management faculty were visiting Panchkhal to observe the state of drying Jhiku Khola – the only stream that provide irrigation water to the farms in the valley – and the springs, and learn from farmers about the plight they have been facing.  The purpose of the visit was also to meet farmers to learn about the ways they have adopted to cope with water problem. But before all of these, it was important to see if we really understand the problem. The objective was hence to see if we can try to understand what is going on in the local environment and what does drying water sources tell us.

On our way to the valley, we stopped at several places on the mountain to meet people and examine water sources around their houses. The first thing that we noticed was a local tap up in the mountain that had gone dry after the Gorkha Earthquake.  It was a confirmation that all the springs above that tap had dried following the quake.  The villagers still expect the tap to have water after the monsoon, which needs to be seen after the monsoon. The good news was that the water level in a well dug two years ago little below the tap in a rocky place has increased. People from around that village used the well water to meet all their water needs.

Further below at Tinpiple, the famous well located at the foot hill that had been under lock and key since last two years to save what little water it produced, had been  left open since April 25 because the water level rose more than a foot immediately after the quake. With this picture of increased water level in the springs at the foot hill, we expected an increased flow in the Jhiku Khola as well.   And so it was. When we reached the valley the Jhiku Khola was flowing high that day.  A farmer (seen in the picture below), who is fortunate to have his land near the bank of Jhiku Khola,  was using a kerosene operated water pump to lift Jhiku Khola water to irrigate his paddy field.

Farmer with Jhiku Khola in the background

Farmer with Jhiku Khola in the background

When we met the farmer, we were surprised to know that the Jhiku was dry until a day before and the water we saw was the first flowing water of this monsoon. Therefore, he was desperate to take it to his field. Before the flood, there were thousands of pits dug in the river bed in winter to collect water to irrigate. Each of these pits cost 10-15,000 rupees plus the operating cost of the pumps. Those, whose land are away from the river bank and cannot dig pits, need to pay 400 rupees per hour to pump water from these pits. Farming in Panchkhal has become more of an expensive and often frustrating venture to the farmers.

Like elsewhere, farmers in the valley were all subsistence farmers before Panchkhal was connected with Kathmandu by Arniko Highway in the late 1960s. With the highway, came all sorts of development experts and projects to help farmers improve their lives. Commercial farming began. This farmer that we met, moved here, like many others, from Nala village in the early 1980s to do commercial farming. He was proud of his progress and continued his vegetable farming.  But since the mid 1990s, the valley started facing water shortage. It was in 1995 (2052 Nepali year) that this farmer began using water pumps to pump water from the Khola when irrigation canals couldn’t bring enough water to his farm. Water shortage progressively deepened.  By 2005 (2062 Nepali year) the Jhiku Khola hardly flowed in winter, and that is when farmers innovated this technique of digging pits in the river bed to collect seepage water for irrigation. Since then, thousands of pits are dug along the Khola every year. And yet, only those who are located close to the Khola get irrigation water from the pits, the rest in the upland do not. He explained that even the pits do not yield enough water as they did in the past. An indication that water source in the valley is declining progressively. In 2015 (2072 Nepali year) only limited farmers could irrigate their farms with water from the pits. The farmers hadn’t even finished saying this, a student suddenly asked ‘Bayaasi maa ke hola?’ (in Nepali, what will happen in 2025 (2082 Nepali year)?).

We couldn’t possibly find any answer to this unexpected question –  Bayaasi maa ke hola? But, as a society and as a nation we must have some clue of what will happen to water sources in 2025. Despite decade-long efforts of people to inform the policy makers and with years of repeated reporting on the water crisis, water shortage in Panchkhal has grown from bad to worse in the last 20 years between 1995 and 2015. We may indulge in series of research and discussions, debates and experiments, but if we fail (like we have in the past) to find answer, who will this farmer turn to in the next ten years?

Until next

Is It a New Local Water Cycle ?


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Impact of the April 25 earthquake on local water sources has begun to appear in the Kathmandu valley. The increased discharge in the local water spouts following the earthquake and the joy it brought to the people in a locality in Katunje in Bhaktapur didn’t last for more than 3 weeks.  The Tin Dhara (three spouts in Nepali) of Katunje village had increased water discharge after the earthquake, but the discharge declined rapidly and the spouts dried after the strong aftershock of May 12.

Women wait for hours to collect drinkgn water

One of the three spouts (seen in the picture) is barely flowing with a discharge of about 2 liters per minute. Women from around the village gather to collect water which they use for drinking purpose. About 50 households, who do have VDC built piped water connection to their houses depend on this dying spout, because the water in the tap is murky and therefore not suitable for drinking. People come here to collect water, because they they can drink this water without filtering let alone boiling.

And there is another spout in the next valley (seen in the picture below), which had dried for the last three years  but, started to flow after the quake.  Amazingly the discharge in this spout is at least 20 liter per minutes – 10 times more than the dying spout of Tin Dhara.

2015-06-25 17.34.40

The earthquake has significantly changed the water cycle in these small watersheds. What are the changes and how permanent are they can only be assessed in the next winter. Hope these preliminary measurements will provide an important benchmark for Katunje.

Monitoring the discharge in local water sources where changes have been seen within the EQ affected area would provide crucial information for water scientists to evaluate EQ impact on water cycle, and for water managers to mitigate water problems.

With Irene’s support

Until next


The Neglected Hills


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This is a follow up to my previous blog about ‘The Third Mountains and Beyond’ posted on May 30, 2015. On the blog, I had indicated that villages faraway from road heads and beyond the second valleys are often ignored by state agencies, while collecting information about the situation there, and because of the lack of information of the situation, the state fails to provide even essential services to people in need. This has been the story for more than half a century since we embarked on a planned development path. Consequently, a large part of Nepal still remains disconnected from the state and has remained in a very sorry state in terms of health, education and opportunities for economic development.

The point that I was trying to draw home was that the earthquake did not differentiate between the first and the third mountains. People in the third mountains have suffered even more because they are among the weakest of the Nepali society and hence will find it be very difficult to recover and re-establish from the ruins.

My speculation about state agencies not reaching these areas in the Third Mountains, unfortunately, came  true. The government had constituted a technical team comprising of geologist, soil conservation expert, and experts from other relevant fields to collect information about the situation and assess the potential threat that the monsoon rains might bring in the district of Lalitpur, which has been badly damaged by the earthquake with landslides and cracks on the ground. The south part of the Lalitpur is mountainous and every valley makes the next mountain even more remote. The village of Thula Durling, which lies at the border between Lalitpur and Makawanpur, is the farthest from the district headquarter and probably a day’s walk from the nearest road head.


According to the news (snippet above) the technical team decided to return without visiting Thula Durlung, because they were running out of time to start writing the report from areas they visited in the first and the second mountains. Not a bad excuse because the team was given a limited time to submit the report, based on which the government can make a plan to take necessary steps and ensure safety of the people in the monsoon. But it is certain that the plan will not have anything for people in Thula Durlung because there is no information about their situation in the report (unless the team decides to make some story based on hearsay).

Some questions:

When will the state begin to realize that a large part of Nepal lives in the Third Mountains?

No matter what the macroeconomic indicators say, the living condition of the people in the Third Mountains is generally beyond one’s imagination. When will the state take note of it and begin to value the outcome rather than the process?

Thanking  Irene for her support

Until next


Sunkoshi isn’t blue this year.

The water in the Sunkoshi River and increased this week due to snow melt in the catchment. With the rise in temperature the snow has started to melt, which happens at this time of the year. With sufficient snow-melt water to augment the flow when the river is at its lowest before the monsoon,  the river  is supposed to look most beautiful because of  sufficient water  from bank to bank looking bluish green in color,  and so clean that one could easily see the pebbles and boulders  under water where it is shallow. This is what makes the areas round the river beautiful because one has tingling cold water to take a deep in, of a hot summer day under the scorching sun.  But, Sunkoshi this year is not bluish green. It has snow-melt water, which is muddy and sediment laden, probably contributed by landslides in the upstream triggered by Gorkha Earthquake of April 25, 2015.  It also indicates the extent of lose sediment in the river bed.

The water in the Sunkoshi River increased this week due to snow melt in the catchment. With the rise in temperature the snow has started to melt, which normally happens at this time of the year. With sufficient snow-melt water to augment the flow when the river is at its lowest before the monsoon, the river is supposed to look most beautiful because of sufficient water from bank to bank looking bluish green in color, and so clean that one could easily see the pebbles and boulders under water where it is shallow. This is what makes the areas round the river beautiful because one has tingling cold water to take a deep in, on a hot summer day with scorching sun over the head But, Sunkoshi this year is not bluish green. It has snow-melt water, but muddy and sediment laden, probably a contribution of landslides in the upstream triggered by Gorkha Earthquake of April 25, 2015. The muddy water also indicates the extent of lose sediment in the river bed.

Photo taken at Khadichaur on June 8, 2015