In the alleys of ancient Patan, a fifth-generation goldsmith bends over silver filigree. In a Bhaktapur workshop, a master chisel creates the intricate pattern of a wooden window frame. And in a secluded studio overlooking the Boudhanath stupa, an artist meditatively applies gold strokes to a thangka canvas. These are not scenes from the past. They are the living, breathing soul of Nepal, embodied in art passed down through generations.

These products — pashmina shawls, singing bowls, ritual masks, hand-woven carpets — have long been the calling card of Nepal. But for the global buyer thirsting for authenticity, the path to these treasures is often thorny. It runs through dozens of middlemen, tourist shops with dubious quality, and online stores where “handmade” hides soulless stamping.

In this inefficient system, the biggest loser is the main creator: the Nepalese artisan. His unique talent and hours of painstaking work earn him only a fraction of the price paid by the end consumer in New York, London or Tokyo. A huge part of the added value is lost in the long chain of wholesalers, exporters and retailers.