Will this be the end of the road?

perhaps, or maybe not

After a protracted spell of brownish and/or non-existent water, I’m hesitant, as any long-time Kathmandu resident would be, to jinx it by saying that my building seems to be out of the weeds on this one. One wouldn’t want to tempt the water Fates. Especially when I’ve seen water trucks delivering to nearby buildings. What I will say is that I’m delighted to not be writing about that anymore.

If you think that means missing out on Nepal-infrastructure related updates, however, you would be wrong: the ongoing paving-the-alley-will-they-won’t-they saga continues.

This is, to, me, amusing in a way a lack of water decidedly isn’t. As I’ve said before, the alley was mostly paved when I moved in a little over two years. Digging holes and laying pipes and such has been happening, in one form or another, for at least a year of those two, probably more like a year and a half.

It seemed to me that it could be either months of disbelieving frustration or amusement; I’ve opted for the latter. You could, perhaps, should you so chose, think of it as one of those shows where you wait to see just what seemingly impossible comic coincidence will get in the way of the protagonists goals yet again.

Slowly, work has continued: more was done on the rims of the drainage holes. Things continue to be dug up. Cue a new, unexpected cavity in the earth when you round a corner, people clustered around it, peering down.

And now a new step: for the last quite-a-few nights, a vehicle has been delivering loads of broken rocks. Bigger than gravel, with sharp edges that have clearly been recently hacked from something much larger, they are being shaped into a tidy road shape on top of the orange dirt delivered far earlier. In some places the edges have been scraped for drains, in others the rocks go right up to gates. It’s all very neatly done.

On the four-wheeler vehicle access end of the alley sits a pile of actual gravel, blocking some but not all of the road—thankfully the garbage truck still made it in—and again, the sheer inconvenience of it seems proof that paving must be in the offing.

Neighbours reminding each other to move scooters parked on the edges of the lane signals anticipation, and there’s a roller out there as I type this, flattening the rocks, pushing them deeper into the dirt.

This could bode well for tonight.

Earlier this month I read that an order had been issued forbidding digging up any Kathmandu road for the next three months of monsoon. But what about those already been dug up, I wondered. This bustle of activity seems promising.

**

Over the next few hours, things really get moving. Oil drums filled with molten tar are driven in and deposited at intervals, then dispensed from what appears to be a rectangular oil tin with holes poked in one side. The back and forth motion is very like I’d use a watering can. Then small, sticky gravel is poured over the lot, and the roller continues his laps. Rain interrupts things at one point, and I recognize several neighbourhood faces getting involved, particularly conscientious about helping the workmen perfect the edges of the drains.

This may be the end of the road (sorry, I had to). So far, it’s looking good. And if it isn’t, unlike water issues, I am happy to write another epistle about it.