A letter from Kathmandu
Contributed by Lukas Morton
As a student at Lincoln’s School of Landscape Architecture, sitting at my desk in the studio sometimes felt like it was never going to end. The paradox turned out to be just how quickly the four long and strenuous years of uni went.
Before I knew it, I was staring at an email saying, “Congratulations on the completion of your Bachelor of Landscape Architecture”. It was an email I thought I’d never see… but as well as having completed an internship with Di Lucas, I was beyond thrilled to read those 10 words pasted across my screen.
So, this is where the story begins, a liberating email that fueled an impulsive decision to get up and do something. That something wasn’t very clear, but I was craving a change of scene in an unfamiliar part of the world.
In February, I reached out to a family friend about my travels - Ramyata, a Nepali journalist whom my dad had connected with back in the early 2000s. She mentioned that her partner, Triple, has a nephew, Amar, who runs an architecture firm.
With nothing to lose, I fired away an email to Amar, including a bit about myself along with my CV and portfolio. After a long two weeks, I received an email with a scheduled time to call. We confirmed, there and then, that he was keen to get me on board part-time. And just like that, the next time we would see each other would be in person in Kathmandu at the Amar Architects headquarters.
Amar Gurung and Lukas Morton | members of the team taking a break.
Adjustment to Kathmandu took some time. The rhythm of the city was fast, but at a bpm I could keep up with. At 6'3", I have an extra-long stride, something I took for granted until now. The flow of Kathmandu city was something you didn’t want to fight, and quickly I learned that - like in a rip in the ocean - it's best to ride it out.
The first few days were so overly stimulating that I felt as if I were a kid learning to smell, listen, and look for the first time again.
Each day came with its learning, and before I knew it, I was feeling comfortable in my new home.
After a few searches online and talking with Amar, it was clear that landscape architecture wasn’t a big thing in Nepal. After exploring my new neck of the woods, I was pleased to see greenery in and amongst the urban disarray.
In the wealthier parts of the world, we're able to value and prioritise green space due to our modes of education, greater access to resources and more stable infrastructure, which allows for long-term planning and investment in public and environmental health. In poorer, third-world countries, this idea of public green space isn’t so far up the priority list.
Gardens are increasingly a sign of wealth, as most homes in Kathmandu lack them. In the dense urban landscape, space is a high-value commodity, growing ever scarcer as the city expands.
Rather than being reserved for green areas or communal spaces, land is prioritised for building. The more bedrooms a building can accommodate, the greater its potential for rental income and capital gain. As a result, economic incentives drive this densification at the expense of greenery, contributing to a built environment where gardens and green spaces are a luxury, not a norm.
Green space does exist; however, it can be hard to find. Street trees line streets in and amongst the concrete maze. Riparian margins are often bare, choked by sprawling weeds and littered with invasive rubbish. Crows, magpies, and kites patrol the skies, circling above in search of their next trash pile to bury their beaks in. Soil is prioritised for food with every spare inch ploughed and planted with seed.
It makes me realise what a privilege it is to have such an abundance of urban green space so accessible back home.
As a new arrival to Nepal, it feels as if Kathmandu would benefit highly from investing in landscape architecture to help solve, plan and mitigate some pressing issues the city is facing.
With biodiversity diminishing, pollution increasing and natural disasters only getting worse, it feels like the time to get more landscape architects involved is now.
Note: Lukas will be sending a follow-up ‘Letter from Kathmandu’ in the second half of 2025. If you have any questions for Lukas, LAA - laaotearoa@nzila.co.nz - will happily relay them to him.