However You Look at it, Brick Production Needs to be Scaled Back

Kathmandu, like much of the rest of the country, is famous for its terraced farms. Beautiful, they drape the hills and mountainsides in gold. The change in the fields as the valley shifts from the monsoon into winter is dramatic. Gone are the blanketed fields of green and gold. We're left with smokestacks, blemishes on the landscape that were until now outshone by the colorful and flowing dhan. For some these brick kilns are a means of income in the winter when farming is much more sparse. But for most they are a beacon of cynicism. They chug to life every winter morning, billowing smoke for the majority of the day. The valley is once again blanketed: a blockade of gray, dreary haze weighs down life. There are a plethora of problems that are brought about through their use. The consequences of the un-filtered emissions are most visible and therefore easy to criticize, but equally great problems become apparent if you look closer.


The stacks are one part of a system that reeks havoc on the environment, producing bricks at an alarming rate for construction that is rife across Kathmandu. The huge smokestacks are usually at the center of a labyrinth of plots: this is where the clayey soil is excavated and molded into the bricks, hand by hand. Once the bricks have been naturally dried they are sent in trucks to the kilns, thousands at a time. Black coal can be found in expansive heaps around the stacks in order to build the massive fires. After baking the bricks they are re-loaded and shipped around the valley. A lack of space in Kathmandu means that many of the kilns are located on plots of land that are also supposed to be used for farming. For a country already unable to produce enough food for its population this ritual appears even more idiotic. The plots surrounding the smokestacks are dug up, acres worth of bricks made and stacked in preparation to be baked. The land will eventually become infertile and unable to support crops. They are scared with holes akin to mass graves. The dusty air around the kilns has a strange calmness, sterile and monotonous.

One of the brick makers with the product of his strenuous work.

Another plot of farmland that has been torn apart.

An uprooted tree trunk near a kiln.

Recently made bricks drying before they will be baked.

A community pile of bricks. Who owns them and where they will be used is not apparent.

Another pile of bricks, perhaps in an attempt to preempt construction or repairs.

Beyond the immense pollution they produce, the existence and operation of these monstrosities beg us to ponder deeper implications. Kathmandu clearly has an addiction to construction, which could result in catastrophe. The brick kilns immense influence on this problem is obvious. Who is propagating this out of control process and can we assume that the organization of such construction firms is vertically integrated? The consequences of both processes are truly dire but still they continue. All the more confusing is the fact that so many bricks can be found just laying around as if in anticipation of being used. Greed and corruption appear to be greater forces than charity and conscience in the brick and construction industries of Kathmandu. The utter decimation of the land can also be viewed as a blatant case of individual gain overshadowing the public need. How can someone insist on building skyscrapers when right in front of them people are undernourished and landless? I can only imagine.


Photos of this post can also be found for high-resolution viewing and downloading on flickr.