Op-ed: Stories of Frustration from the «Third Pole»

This is an op-ed written by an external contributor. All views expressed are the author's own.

I just visited Kathmandu for a very interesting conference organized by ICIMOD [International Center for Integrated Mountain Development. Red. note].

It was an exciting trip made possible by a travel grant from the Sámi Arts Council. I was invited to perform as a Sámi artist and join an Indigenous dialogue with yak herders, while also representing Nord University and the High North Center on stage.

In the plenary, I spoke alongside Director General Pema Gyamtsho and others about how to turn knowledge into action. The discussions included important perspectives on how Indigenous knowledge from both regions can inform adaptation strategies.

The plenary mattered. But so did the voices I heard outside the halls.

Like with the yak herders. They reminded me of Sámi reindeer herders. Same struggles with youth leaving traditional livelihoods, climate disrupting seasonal rhythms, and ongoing fights over land.

The herders I met are trying to organize nationally. Most people don’t know it exists, but the Nepal Yak Chauri Herders Federation already has members across 25 districts.

I learned that some challenges are very specific: while cow slaughter is banned in Nepal, yak slaughter is also socially sensitive. Herders therefore sell live yaks across the border, with the meat later returning through trade - a strangely circular reality.

Then there’s Shiva Dhakal, the CEO of Royal Mountain Travel. He started out earning six dollars a month and built one of Nepal’s biggest travel companies. Tourism helps preserve culture, he told me. He built the Community Homestay Network.

85 percent of it is run by women, and most of the profits stay in the villages. At Chitwan National Park, tourism replaced poaching. People protect wildlife now because it brings income.

His company was also the first travel agency with electrical cars in Kathmandu.

But behind every conversation was something bigger. On Monday it spilled into the streets as protests turned violent.

During my stay, I kept hearing about the same things: corruption, broken education, a system that no one trusts. Young people leave if they can. If you have a child, you hope it’s a boy, because you can only afford to send one abroad.

Private schools is the only chance at a future if you have to stay within the country.

At the embassy dinner last Saturday, I met Ambassador Dagny Mjøs. We talked about Arctic-Himalayan links. Both regions warming faster than the global average. Both shaped by Indigenous knowledge. Both needing resilience.

By the end of my stay, everything shifted. The government blocked social media. Young people in Nepal were already frustrated. Now they were furious.

I left Monday night. I passed a few checkpoints on the way to the airport but didn’t get stopped. Inside, it was chaos. Four hours of standing, waiting, pushing through the crowd. I got on the flight half past midnight. The next morning, the airport was shut.

Tuesday, the prime minister resigned. The social media ban was lifted. But the protests haven’t stopped, and Al Jazeera reports that at least 19 people are killed.

It was a week of formal discussions – and also unrest growing just beyond the walls. What tied it together wasn’t climate or culture, but the absence of trust in the state.