Salim Reshamwala

The scale of these bridges can be completely deceptive.

They are such a huge, not only like sort of physical material presence, but they are a visual presence in any Nepalese experience, right?

One really, really striking thing of working in this project, no one really thinks about braces like as something to think about.

But once you ask questions,

about breezes to people once you ask people to reflect about breezes my god they have stories there are a lot of songs there are a lot of poetry that people have written like you know it's always like you know i'm on this side you're on the other side and it's months and like will not meet for another three months i love that it's causing poetry and songs like this one

The morning sun beams off freshly tempered steel, giant metal arcs compress deep into the ground, suspended into the clouds like a single metal wing discarded between heaven and earth.

It sways back and forth.

That's Gaurab Subba, an MC and spoken word poet and friend of Nayan's.

Nayan was telling Gaurab about his trip, and he was inspired to start writing.

Curiosity lingers as they open the doors, but none take steps across the cable floors.

Make room, they say, for the mules that cross with heavy loads.

If they fall, what is not loved is not lost.

There's this reaching when you cross a bridge.

You have to trust that the bridge itself will hold you, but you're also trusting that the other side of the bridge, this often unknown place, will be worth the trip.

A little insurance couldn't hurt.

That's after the break.

We're back with our earlier poet, Strauber Mukaram, discussing a Nepali tradition around crossing bridges.

It is in our tradition to bow down and pay respect to the hills, to the rivers.

It is a manifestation of the harmony and an acknowledgement that life is only possible because of this coexistence with nature.

Even though we make the bridges, it is vital to our life and so we need to worship it.