With increasing numbers of Nepalis working in the Gulf in
low paying jobs, the dream of every returned migrant is to make a house
that mimics the architectural “grandeur” (some could call it tacky
ostentation and bad taste) of Gulf architecture. What most Nepalis don’t
realize is that the houses they want to build—with blue glass
completely enclosing boxlike structures—may be suitable for the
deserts of Arabia but is unsuitable for the temperate climate of
Kathmandu. Along with the glaring blue glass that is popping up
everywhere all over Nepal has come the need for air conditioning, which
was not necessary in Kathmandu where the mercury hovered at a moderate
temperate climate. Now we have a city that has more waterless desert
architecture and less of the lovely architectural wonderland which was set besides lush forests and sparkling rivers.
I also noticed this blue
glass, some of them in iridescent colors, in places like the historic
areas of Bhaktapur. Bhaktapur is often touted as the pride of Nepal, the
one place in the valley where indigenous architecture has been
preserved. But sadly it will no longer be so unless the residents agree
to follow certain architectural rules and use local technology. Small
panes of transparent glass allow for good flow of light and heat without
being intrusive. Without that commitment to abide by rules from home
owners, and enforcement by city officials, the city will not be able to
hold on to its identity.
A German tourist I met
told me recently: “You have these strange buildings all over the place.
They are all facing in different directions. In Germany, there are rules
and regulations about the ways houses can be build. We have to follow
the architectural codes of the style of the city. We cannot do whatever
we want.” This sort of disciplined behavior and abiding of codes,
however, would be abhorrent to Nepalis, who would instantly take any
sort of restriction as high-handed restrictions on their freedoms,
rather than simply the workings of a democratic system.
This
glass should be banned not just in dense neighbourhoods like New Road,
in historic areas in Bhaktapur, but in general all over Nepal’s
highways, where they are showing up with alarming frequency. The glare
of non-transparent, reflective glass been shown to fatigue and disorient
drivers. The blue glass reflects light on the one hand, but also
absorbs the sun’s heat and contributes to the global warming effect on
the other. It has been shown to be environmentally unfriendly by climate
change activists. In fact, blue (and colored glass in general) should
be banned completely in Nepal.
Lets hope the
newly energized Kathmandu Municipality, which has been taking down the hoarding boards with zeal, takes a look at the Arabic Gulf and Europe
and comes away realizing heavy colored plate glass is all very well for
desert and sub-zero freezing temperatures but it should be banned in a
city with a temperate climate where air-conditioning is not a necessity.
Imposing an architectural code would no doubt bring on charges of feudalism, regression etc. Not that a building and architectural code
doesn’t exist— it does. Apparently buildings can only be built up to
certain stories. But nobody is following these rules because its not
enforced and there are no penalties for not following them.
Witness
the rule which said buildings taller than the palace were forbidden in
the Kathmandu Valley during the monarchy—the rule came to be symbolic of
oppression rather than a measurement yardstick of earthquake safety. I
have no doubt however that in all the most democratic of countries, from
England to Sweden to the USA, there are rules that stop giant
buildings with tacky blue glass to spring up besides heritage buildings, including the Buckingham Palace
and the Swedish palace and the White House. Perhaps the day will come
when our democrats will mature sufficiently to realize the difference
between oppression and regulation—and will one day come to understand
that a democratic society by its very nature must be a regulated one.
Comments