Mahendra Trust : Emerging Environmental Watchdog

The premises are cramped and claustrophobic, but it is a beehive of activity: a former auditorium boarded up to yield office space. It is the base camp of the King Mahendra Trust for Nature Conservation, a Nepali "NGO" on a ecological crusade (but burdened with a terrible logo, see below). It is mid-February, and the Trust´s staff of fourteen are in a tizzy keeping track of the its burgeoning responsibilities.

News has just come in by wireless that a rhino from the Chitwan jungle is heading south across the border into Bihar. Fallout continues from the Trust´s whistle-blowing on the the Bhrikuti Paper Factory, a day before it was to be inaugurated, for discharging untreated effluents into the Narayani river. There is discussion on how best to preserve the cloud forests of the Barun Valley in East Nepal, and follow-ups on a snow-leopard sttudy in the Shey-Phoksumdo National Park, a project to identify endangered Nepali plants, an appraisal of the red panda´s diminishing habitat, and the movement of 27 Tadio-collared gharials. (It was learnt later that the rhino had been shot by the Bihar police.)

In September, the Trust launched a unique conservation experiment in the Annapurna region, one that hqpes to balance the needs of a local population, trekking tourism and the fragile environment. In January, the Trust used cranes, trucks and good Nepali ingenuity to crate nine rhinos from the Chitwan Valley to the Bardia Wildlife Reserve in an attempt to provide alternative habitat as well as to minimise conflict with villagers.

The Trust was established by a Government Act in 1982 to fill a keenly felt need to supplement the conservation-related activities of HMG. As Prince Gyanendra Bir Bikram Shah, Chairman of its Governing Board of Trustees told donors in 1984,have been unwise and unrealistic to ask HMG alone to grant funds to realise the prescriptions of the World Conservation Strategy, to which Nepal had subscribed.

"Our philosophy is development through conservation. We canot keep people apart while trying to preserve the environment," says Hemanta Mishra, Member Secretary of the Trust, just back from undergoing a multiple bypass operation in London. "How can you have national park isolated amidst a sea of human population? We must search for answers geared to our own situation and not copy models that might have done for national parks in colonial Africa half a century ago. If we fail to grasp that impoverished farmers outside our national parks need food, fuel, fodder and shelter, then everything will go."

Mishra is proud that it is under the Trust´s aegis that the World Wildlife Fund (WWF) for the first time got involved in population and development issues, in the Annapurna Conservation Area Project – which also represents the Trust´s attempt to implement its own philosophy. The ploughing back of trekking revenue directly into local conservation efforts.

Mingma Norbu, who co-ordinates the Project for the Trust, says people´s participation is essential if- the area is to escape the fate, of the degraded Everest trail. "We try not to talk conservation with the villagers; the stress is on hard economics", he says. In fact, his real challenge came not with the villagers of Annapurna but with Kathmandu officials loathe to allow grassroots control of forest and wildlife resources.

With a simple press release on the impact of the paper factory´s effluents on the Narayani´s riverine wildlife, the Trust has also emerged as a watchdog for the public. Whereas the conservation – minded groups in Nepal have been scattered, disorganised and weak-kneed to date, the Trust has the clout and seems willing to use it. "We have indeed evolved as. a watchdog for the public´s interest," says Mishra, "and we will be there to raise a voice if we feel uiat a highway alignment could easily bypass an existing forest; or if it is found that a paper mill in Nepalganj or Janakpur, or rubber factory in Gorkha are* not taking reasonable measures."
The Trust is an almost totally Nepali creation, from its conception to the present operations. It has overcome the genuine credibility problem that public-spirited Nepali ventures face abroad, particularly among the funders. The Trust has successfully raised project money from organisations like the WWF and the Smithsonian Institute, and individuals such as Netherlands Prince Bernhard (who provided US$10,000 for the rhino translocation).

While money is tight, the Trust is also facing a problem of talented people and of continuity in its work. As Prince Gyanendra told the trustees last year, "I am not satisfied with, the progress made in the speedy and systematic implementation of (the Trust´s) institutionalisation." He called for doing away with "discord and dissimilarity of thought" between the trustees and the secretariat.

As for the future, the Prince said that "the time has come for us to present ourselves to the Nepalese public more vigorously. The Trust must convince policy-makers, planners, aid agencies and the business community that, for their dreams to come true, there must be a built-in conservation component in all their projections."

A trail of destruction

By Aditya Man Shrestha

High on a pass 3,000m above sea level, the village of Ghorepani faces a dilemma between apparent affluence and obvious breakdown. This Himalayan hamlet of hardly 250 people willingly hosts between August and May every year an estimated 10,000 trekkers hiking up Himalayan trails in search of mountain mysteries.

Ghorepani commands a spectacular view of the Annapurnas and, four days out of the roadhead town of Pokhara, few trekkers miss a night´s halt here. In 1978, there was a lone teashop on the pass (deurali) and Hotel Pun Hill (actually a lodge).More than 20 lodges crowd the trail up to the pass today, 14 of them catering to tourists and the rest used by Nepali travellers, pilgrims and porters.

There is a tendency to construct more lodges not only to cash in on the tourism boom but to enhance one´s standing in the tiny community. The entrepreneurs´ awareness of the impact on the local environment has been shown by studies to be minimal. Even more disturbing, the whole lodge industry seems to be continuing "just for the heck of it" and not for economic gain, as the following calculation shows.

The average tourist spends NRs 50 per night in Ghorepani. In return, he/she receives an evening meal consisting of soup, rice, lentils and vegetables, rice´ pudding (pronounced "rasputin"), four cups of tea and a bottle of soft drink. For breakfast, the visitor gets a bowl of porridge, two eggs, a chapati and two cups of tea. Throw in the accommodation charge of NRs 3, which allows the weary hiker to sleep on a foam mattress, warm his toes at a central fireplace and shower With warm water.

Even by a conservative calculation, it costs NRs 35 per person for food alone.

The firewod costs NRs 12 per person (at NRs 61 for a porteY-load of 25 kilos) and NRs 1.5 for kerosene used for lighting. All told, it costs the lodge-owner at least NRs 48.50 to take care of one tourist, and the figure does not even include depreciation and investment on the buildings. So it seems clear that lodge operation leads to nil profit if not a net toss.

Yet, tourism goes on. Too late, some of the lodge-owners have realised their folly, but cannot afford to close down (many are ex-servicemen of the Indian Army or the British Gurkhas who have invested their pensions on what did not seem then the tourism gamble).

"What to do, at the time it seemed a good investment", says Buddhiman Gurung, 56, an Indian Army pensioner who largely financed an establishment run by his nephews. He says that bargaining tourists has led to desperate competition   among   lodge-owners   to undercut each other.

While the advent of foreigners has brought about changes in the eating habits of the villagers (with increasing consumption of biscuits, sugar and candies) and in the local behaviour and value system, by far the most obvious impact of tourism in Ghorepani can be seen in the physical environment. Indiscriminate felling of prime rhodendron forest for construction and firewood has made the once renowned Ghorepani ukalo (uphill trail) unrecognisable within a decade.

"In eight years of hiking in this area. I have seen the demise of Ghorepani forest", says Padam Singh Ghale, a mountaineer and trekking guide who does the trail at least three times a year. "It used to be you couldn´t see a few yards to the side of the trail for the trees. Today it is finished. At every turn is a lodge, a teashtip, a signboard". A volleyball court and a football field of sorts have sprouted in clearings.

Studies show that one hectare of the unique rhododendron forest is disappearing every year, fully grown rhododendron trees with their resplendant flowers (Nepal´s national flower) of the sort that used to tower over the Ghorepani trail require more than two centuries to mature.

A project sponsored by the Association for Research and Environmental Aid (AREA) of Australia is making an effort to reduce firewood consumption and is introducing appropriate energy systems to reduce firewood concsumption and improve energy systems of the dwellings. AREA also seeks to upgrade the water supply, install sanitation systems, rehabilitate degraded land and introduce a community forestry programme that encourages sustainable yield from forest harvesting.

Commenting on the impact of tourism on his village, the Ghorepani-headman says, "The trekkers are like people on a honeymoon. They look at our mountains, eat our food, sit by our fire,but they do not see OUT problems. They just go home and show their friends the pretty pictures",

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