Precious Pottery Skill

Nepal is rich in indigenous knowledge and skills, thanks to its vast geographical, ecological and cultural diversities.  A few among them, such as ayurvedic medicines, agricultural practice using local seeds to maintain soil fertility, eco-friendly traditional housing and infrastructure designed for resource management and sustainability, craftsmanship specialised in intricate wood and metal carvings or thangka paintings, have all put the nation on the global map. 

These indigenous skills and knowledge constitute a living cultural identity that countless people associated with them take immense pride in. Given that they have been developed over generations, they must continue to live. The only way to ensure their survival is to pass them on to newer generations. However, Nepali youths are increasingly losing interest in them. Several social and economic pressures help explain this trend. As more and more youths aspire to work abroad in the hope of earning quick and handsome bucks, indigenous crafts, which typically take years to master, have fallen into neglect. 

The other day, this daily carried a story of a lone surviving potter, Suk Bahadur Kumal, of Kumaltari in Lamjung district. About a decade ago, he started a craftwork of making pottery and invested heavily in the business.  The goal was to satisfy his overwhelming need to revive his ancestors' occupation, which had been forgotten and pushed to the brink of disappearance. Up until a few decades ago, pottery was the main profession of the locals in the area, and every family had a clay collection site on their land. Traditional occupations once supported village economies and social networks.

But the news that Kumal is the only one left in the occupation is indeed worrying. What is even more troubling is that his children and grandchildren either lack interest or have no time to learn the craft and continue it, leaving him deeply worried about who will shoulder the responsibility of keeping alive the community's centuries-old cultural heritage and ancestral occupation. For him, the craftwork is much more than a local industry; it's a carrier of cultural values. 

With the rapid urbanisation that has pushed more and more youths to cities, people's lives have undergone tectonic lifestyle changes. This has exposed them to global culture and incentivised them to adopt social media culture, reducing their interest in largely rural livelihoods. Consumerism is stealthily taking over people's lives. Another factor is the emphasis laid on modern education that prepares pupils for office jobs that are seen as prestigious and attractive careers, overshadowing indigenous professions.  Compounding the problem is the weak economic return. When jobs provide no stable or high income, people naturally opt out of them. 

But, importantly, we cannot afford to let this trend go unchecked, for indigenous skills are the markers of our long history and cultural heritage. These skills are inseparably connected with our cultural identity. To revive them, interest should be instilled right from a tender age. Nurturing the love for traditional knowledge and skills through school curricula should be a starting point. To sustain this interest and love, there must be institutional support from the government. When young people turn their back on these skills, communities lose both economic activity and cultural continuity. Unless the youth embrace traditional knowledge and skills with renewed interest, Nepal risks losing its vast wealth of indigenous knowledge.