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The Center for Research and Sustainable Development Nepal (CREASION) last week conducted the Tree of the Year Nepal (TOYN) award ceremony and photo exhibition at Taragaon Museum, Hyatt Regency. Affiliated to Asian Tree of the Year awards initiated in Sri Lanka in 2016, the second edition of the annual TOYN saw a total of 30 participants, of whom Uddhav Dangal, Mohan Jaishi and Ashin Poudel won the first, second and third place respectively. The winners were selected by the judge panel of Dr Chudamani Joshi, Landscape Ecologist and special advisor to Embassy of Finland, Kath­mandu; Ranjit Acharya, CEO, Prisma Advertising; and Bikash Karki, Presi­dent, Photojournalist club.

TOYN is an initiation of Volun­teer for Change (VFC) program of CREASION, a non-profit, non-gov­ernmental organization. The pho­tographs entries were sent from different districts of Nepal along with their unique stories of trees which emphasized the importance of pro­tection and preservation of Nepali tree biodiversity.

TOYN is a photo competition open to every Nepali citizen. The main focus of this competition is on starting a conversation on the importance of protecting trees and preserving biodiversity.

 There are 78 households in Thaprang village of Chitwan district. Only one house—that of Bhadra Bahadur Chepang, a member of the local gov­ernment—has a proper toilet.

“I built the toilet so that others would see it and be inspired to build toilets in their own homes,” says Bhadra Bahadur. “But so far no one else has done it.”

It is not that villagers are unaware of the impor­tance of toilets. Raj Bahadur Chepang, now 70, has long wanted to build one at his house. But he says he does not have the money and so he and his family continue to defecate inside a nearby forest.

“If the government gives me building materials,I too will be able to have a toilet at my house,” says Raj Bahadur.

As the residents of this predominantly-Chepang vil­lage defecate in the open, often out of compulsion, the nearby forest and open spac­es have become extremely dirty. The situation is no different in other villages around Thaprang.

Chamre Chepang, another local, says that he too desperately wants a toilet but has no money for it. “When nature calls we have no option but to run to the nearest gully or forest,” he says.

By ANIL DHAKAL | CHITWAN

A half-hour early morning drive from the city center to Danda Gaun in the Shivapuri Hills—the northern fringe of Kathmandu—followed by a 15-minute flight 4,380 meters above sea level takes you to Gosainkunda, a heavenly abode of Hindu Gods and one of the most visited tourist destinations in Nepal. Located in the lap of the Himala­yas, the pristine lake of Gosainkunda in Rasuwa district is a Ramsar site. It takes a round-trip of 7 to 8 days to trek up to the lake. But walking 7-8 hours every day in high altitude is not for everyone, especially not for the elderly, the physically-chal­lenged and pilgrims who value the site more than the journey.

But private airline companies have cut short the Gosainkunda trip and made the exhilarating experience of a helicopter ride affordable for many Nepalis. For just Rs 20,000 ($200) per person, one can take a half-day leave and travel to one of the highest lakes in the world, which remains frozen for nearly six months every year.

With the chopper service, the sacred lake has been made accessible to children, retired government employees, working professionals, tourists on short visits and people from all walks of lives—you meet them all up there.

Following the 15-minute flight, visitors get half an hour to marvel at the beauty of the place. They are accompanied by a crew of profes­sionals, including a doctor, who ensure that the whole trip is both safe and comfortable. They also give pilgrims a rare opportunity to be close to the Gods.

A decade ago, the idea of a sarangi player as an inte­gral part of a contempo­rary pop, blues or jazz band would perhaps have sound­ed absurd. But come today, the ethnic Nepali sarangi has become a leading instrument in all genres of modern Nepali music. Sarangi players are defying the age-old position of the wooden sarangi as a vocal accompaniment to using it as a distinct instrument that blends seamlessly into a West­ern ensemble—and Project Sarangi is one reason behind this positive change. Initiated in December 2012, Project Sarangi has been work­ing to revive and preserve the sarangi and other ethnic Nepali instruments. “The idea was to create a bridge between a traditional instrument and modern Nepali music,” says Kiran Nepali, the Founder/ Director of Project Sarangi and a professional musician touring with artists like Bipul Chhetri, Kutumba and Suman & the Blue Frets. “We noticed that sarangi, as an instrument, was limited to folk groups and with that it risked extinction as the new generation of musi­cians were not interested in learning it.” So he took the initiative to bring together the old and young generations of Nepali musicians and contin­ue the legacy of ethnic Nepali instruments.

Project Sarangi began with the standardization of the instrument. The traditional Nepali sarangi is similar to stringed instruments from the Middle East and South East Asia. But it is also unique. It is carved out of a single piece of wood and played with a bow. The strings on both the instrument and bows were initially made of animal hair. “We started by standardizing the instrument,” Nepali says. “Previously, sarangis did not have a set size. It all depended on available wood and tools, which resulted in inconsisten­cy in how they sounded. We started making standard sizes of these instruments to give them professional quality.”

On the verge

Besides standardizing size, Project Sarangi also ‘upgrad­ed’ the instrument. Animal hair was replaced by nylon strings and different gaug­es (string thickness) were explored. Also, the sarangi by its nature is an acoustic instru­ment. With time, musicians started miking it for recording and live stage performances. “Even with microphones, we noticed that our volume lev­els were low. We then start­ed experimenting with pick­ups, which helped with the sound,” says Nepali who also uses electronic gadgets and signal processors on sarangi to create distinct notes.

Apart from developing the instrument, Project Sarangi is also working to provide formal education to school children and youngsters interested in sarangi, as well as profession­al training to new musicians. Traditionally, the sarangi is associated with the “Gand­harba” families of Nepal, who have been using it for centu­ries to pass down folklores, stories and news. Gandharbas have been an integral part of Nepal’s oral tradition of history. With the rapid mod­ernization of Nepali society, this family tradition was on the verge of extinction. This made Nepali, who belongs to one of the most famous Gand­harba families, think of ways to pique the interest of young Nepalis in the instrument.

Holding its own

Project Sarangi, since its inception, has been success­ful in garnering support and interest in the sarangi and oth­er ethnic Nepali instruments. “We have trained around 40 professional sarangi players, all of whom are now involved with the Nepali music indus­try,” says Nepali. Some stu­dents under Project Sarangi are already making waves in contemporary pop music scene as well as in the Nepali film industry. In recordings as well as live music, the saran­gi can now can be seen and heard holding its own besides drums, bass and guitars.

Yukta Poudel, 18, is a stu­dent enrolled under Project Sarangi. “I was learn­ing gui­tar initially but then I thought I should learn an instrument that is my own and that is how I picked up the sarangi,” says Poudel, a college student who is now taking a basic course at Proj­ect Sarangi. Even with her limited exposure to sarangi so far, she has managed to perform in a few shows. This has boosted her confidence and increased her commitment to the instru­ment. “We can make sarangi a ‘cool’ instrument for young­sters and revive a dying art,” she echoes her teacher.

The future holds immense potential for the sarangi, if the success thus far of Project Sarangi is anything to go by. “We want to educate, moti­vate and inspire young players to take up this instrument,” says Nepali, “This can be accomplished if we introduce a ‘cool factor’ to sarangi.”

All notes and scales

Sarangi on its own has never appealed to the youth. Nepali attributes this to the old presentation style of tra­ditional artists. The sarangi was always played sitting down but now Nepali is using specially designed stands to play them on stage. “It is all about presentation,” he says. “We’re trying to give a makeover to the instrument so that the young generation embraces and accepts it and our legacy continuous.” What helps is that almost all the notes and scales used in West­ern music can be played in sarangi, which makes it easy to blend with rock, pop, blues or jazz.

Towards this goal Project Sarangi has been working incessantly both as a platform and a moderator. Besides educating young students, Project Sarangi conducted a free three-month course for female students last Septem­ber. Around 25 students from different walks of life joined to learn about the instrument. For more professional musi­cians, it hosts regular meets and workshops where players of all levels and ages come together to share ideas and tricks of the trade.

The project also organizes regular events as platforms for students to showcase their skills. “Sarangi Month” and “Jamarko” are among the popular events where ethnic Nepali instruments enthrall audiences. “We want to introduce a Nepali instru­ment to every household,” says Nepali. “The best way of doing that is teach­ing children and giving traditional instruments a modern makeover. We are doing both at the moment.”