11 Jun Reflections of a Gatlang woman on migration, climate change, and connection to the land
Gatlang, a remote Tamang village
Gatlang village, within the Aamachodingmo Rural Municipality, lies at 2,300 meters in one of the most remote areas of Nepal. Its population is predominantly made up of families belonging to the Tamang ethnic group, communities who live in marginal and highly precarious conditions. Most of Gatlang’s residents live below the poverty line and rely on subsistence agriculture and livestock for their livelihoods.
The area is economically very fragile, partly due to its geographic isolation. Gatlang is situated on a separate mountainside, in one of the most remote branches of the Rasuwa district. Road connections to this area from the nearest population centers are rough and in poor conditions, and subject to the constant risk of landslides.
The devastating impact of the climate crisis in mountain areas
Furthermore, this entire mountainous region is experiencing the growing pressures of climate change, which, with a series of knock-on effects, has dramatically altered the rhythms of the seasons, rainfall patterns, and the balance of life between wildlife and humans. Periods of excessive dryness, without snowfall to protect crops, alternate with excessively prolonged monsoons, with worrying consequences such as severe soil erosion, drought, landslides, heat stress, and widespread forest fires. The entire forest above Gatlang has been subject to continuous fires for years, during winters that grow warmer year on year.
The vagaries of the climate and the changes it is imposing on nature have had a marked impact on life in Gatlang. Crop yields, livestock health and, consequently, the meagre income derived from the sale of agricultural produce are obviously being affected.
Causes and effects of youth emigration
It is no coincidence that most young people in the area choose to move elsewhere as soon as circumstances allow. Many head for the capital, Kathmandu, whilst others go as far as the Gulf States, in search of better-paid jobs and a more modern lifestyle that will free them from the fate of hard labour and hardship endured by their parents. Those leaving Gatlang are primarily young men, although the trend is increasingly involving girls as well.
This means that the area’s resident population consists mainly of women, the elderly and children. Consequently, women bear the burden of working in the fields, as well as everything else necessary for village life, responsibilities that are in addition to the care work for the little ones and the elderly.
Supina Tamang, who chooses to stay
In this context, we met Supina Tamang, a 32-year-old woman who lives in Gatlang, combining work on her land with running a small shop in the village. A few years ago, Supina had moved to Kathmandu with her two children, but then chose to return to Gatlang once she realised she was suffering from the loneliness of urban life and wanted to give her children clean air to breathe, good water to drink, and a peaceful environment in which to grow up. “I came back first and foremost because it’s where I was born. I know everything and everyone here. And then there’s the fresh air, and the best water, even in summer, as cold as the fridge.”
Supina tells us that in her room in the capital she felt bored and somewhat alienated, confused by the absence of the connections she was used to. In the village where she was born, instead, she says she never feels alone. Every emotion, be it pain or happiness, is shared, experienced in community. And so, in case of problems, difficulties, or illness, you have someone to take care of you. She believes that what matters most is the emotional connection, with the land and between people. What saddened her about Kathmandu was discovering that this emotional connection is slowly disappearing.
Bonds that fall apart
Sadly, she can’t help but notice that this sense of emotional connection is fading in Gatlang as well: this is demonstrated by the fact that many people decide to leave, attracted by new values, by the entertainment and by the opportunities of the contemporary world, far from the mountains. But above all, they leave because “no one wants to stay down here and die in poverty.” Supina expresses great concern about the abandonment of Gatlang by the younger generations, a phenomenon that translates into the abandonment of elderly parents and grandparents, who are left with nobody to look after them in old age.
“In our society, from generation to generation, and in our culture, it’s customary for the younger generations to look after the elderly, right? Because we’re not independent. We’re like an extended family, right?”
Despite these thoughts, Supina herself can’t help but plan to spend some time abroad, sooner or later, in the Gulf countries. Her idea is to make some money and secure the financial stability that will allow her to return to Gatlang, later on, to spend the rest of her life. Migration seems more like a necessity than a free choice. A sort of destiny impossible to avoid, even for those whose desire is to stay.
Perceptions confronting a nature that stops functioning: how to react?
When we ask her about the changes she perceives with respect to climate trends, she replies that in recent years rainfall has been visibly changing in frequency and intensity, and young people are well aware of the ongoing climate crisis. Unfortunately, the people of Gatlang are struggling to adapt to the changes:
“We have always relied on the rains, following the seasonal rhythm. But now when we need rain, it doesn’t rain, and when we don’t need rain, it rains. And then people don’t know how to use irrigation systems, diverting watercourses and irrigating the land like that, using watercourses.”
The problem, according to Supina, is that a coordinated and collective strategy is needed. No one alone is capable of creating an irrigation system sufficient to bring about a significant turning point for the entire village’s crops. And besides, she adds, the elders don’t support such an idea because they don’t believe in the effectiveness of an artificial structure:
“We’ve always been dependent on nature! How is it possible that we need an irrigation system now?”
Cultivate perspectives, unite and coordinate
With great clarity and awareness of the complexities of the situation, Supina nevertheless manages to envisage possible scenarios for the future of her village. She has seen many young people in Gatlang still showing an interest in farming. She believes collective planning of agricultural work would be necessary, as it would be more functional and profitable. We should try to organize crops according to a seasonal calendar, she says, using crop rotation methods, which she is personally trying to learn, and focusing on cash crops like garlic, cabbage, and onions. Perhaps this way agriculture could offer a realistic income opportunity, and convince some to stay.
Conclusions
Supina Tamang’s story is that of someone who, despite living in a highly critical context, facing a present of loss and dramatic change, chooses to try to stay and cultivate a vision for places like Gatlang, nestled in the high hills of the Himalayas. A choice which, however, proves extremely difficult for most young men and women in these areas. For Supina, it was the emotional bond with her homeland, the sense of well-being that comes from community life, and the clear desire for a life in contact with a pure, healthy nature. All elements of a reality in crisis, where the devastating consequences of climate change compound the harshness of daily life, casting a heavy shadow over the future of mountain areas.
