From Barrels to Springs: How Dotikhola’s Ecosystem Payment Model Could Quench Phuentsholing’s Thirst

From Barrels to Springs: How Dotikhola’s Ecosystem Payment Model Could Quench Phuentsholing’s Thirst

Every morning, long before he brews his first cup of tea, 68-year-old Sangay Dorji begins his day with a ritual of necessity—checking the yellow plastic barrels lined up on the back porch of his home in Phuentsholing. Once soldiers in his daily struggle for water, these barrels now stand like weary sentries, holding what little remains of the city’s most essential resource.

Some are half full. Most are nearly empty.

A retired army man and lifelong resident of this bustling border town, Sangay has watched Phuentsholing change with time. Commerce boomed. Roads widened. Buildings grew taller. But something vital dwindled—water. What was once a seasonal inconvenience has now become a year-round crisis.

“Earlier, we got water at least once a day. Now, sometimes weeks go by. You just stop expecting,” he says, tapping one of the empty barrels. “This is the only way we survive.”

Even during the rainy season, when Bhutan’s hills turn green and the rivers rage, taps in Phuentsholing remain silent. The city, home to over 26,000 residents, faces a paradox: a country rich in water, and yet a city parched.

But amid the despair, a quiet hope has begun to take root—Dotikhola’s Payment for Ecosystem Services (PES).

Sangay doesn’t know all the technicalities of PES. But he does understand one thing—that protecting the forests and water sources upstream might bring water back to his home.

“If it can bring even a little water,” he says with cautious optimism, “that would mean everything.”

He is not alone. Manishe Giri, manager of Hotel Ga Me Ga, echoes a similar frustration. Her business often struggles to host guests due to erratic water supply. Though the Thromde provides water through tankers, demand far outweighs supply.

“The waiting list is so long. Sometimes it takes days before our turn comes. Our tanks run dry. We lose customers,” she says.

“But if this new system brings regular water, I don’t think anyone will mind paying for it. All we want is certainty.”

A recent study titled “Exploration of Groundwater Potential Zones” by Monika Thapa, Kezang Yuden, and Saroj Acharya highlights the scale of the problem. Key areas—including the town core, Kabreytar, and Rinchending—experience severe shortages. Some households receive less than 750 liters per day, far below the basic requirement.

The underlying cause lies upstream.

“Over 70% of the Dotikhola watershed is degraded,” says Kaka, Deputy Chief Forestry Officer from Wangdue Forest Division.

“This degradation directly affects the quantity and quality of water flowing into Phuentsholing.”

But there is a solution, he insists—and it doesn’t lie in pipes or pumps.

Payment for Ecosystem Services (PES) flips the traditional model of water supply on its head. Instead of focusing solely on infrastructure, it pays local upstream communities to protect and restore the ecosystems that regulate water flow, such as forests, springs, and catchment areas.

“It’s about shared responsibility,” says Kaka.

“If the people upstream are supported to care for forests and manage waste, then the entire city benefits.”

Led on the ground by the Tarayana Foundation, the Dotikhola PES initiative is a collaborative effort involving Phuentsholing Thromde, WWF Bhutan, the Department of Forests and Park Services, and other stakeholders. It forms part of the IKI Living Landscape Project, funded by Germany’s International Climate Initiative (IKI).

At its heart is a simple yet powerful concept: pay the people who protect the environment.

An official from Tarayana explains the vision: “There are many threats to the Dotikhola catchment—lack of awareness, poor waste disposal, and climate variability. Through PES, communities will be compensated and trained to safeguard springs, manage waste, and protect forests.”

A total annual contribution of Nu 1.28 million from water users in Phuentsholing is proposed to fund these efforts.

This isn’t just conservation—it’s cooperation.

The plan includes a suite of nature-based solutions, such as spring-shed management to recharge groundwater and protect natural springs, plantation in degraded areas to restore forest cover and soil health, rainwater harvesting systems at strategic points, community guards to prevent illegal forest resource extraction, annual education programs on spring health and waste management and promotion of organic farming practices and bioengineering techniques to stabilize erosion-prone areas

Farmers in the watershed will also be encouraged to reduce chemical use and adopt soil-friendly land management.

Recognizing its long-term potential, Phuentsholing Thromde has expressed full support for the PES model. Thrompon Uttar Kumar Rai noted the importance of sustainable, incentive-based payments to ensure continuity and fairness.

“This is not just a temporary fix. It’s about building a system that works for both nature and people.”

Likewise, Phuentsholing Gewog Administration, which governs many of the upstream communities, is also on board. Gup Birkha Bdr Rai said the gewog would work to raise awareness and involve villagers in stewardship activities.

“We have to protect what protects us,” he said. “And it begins with our forests and springs.”

The urgency of protecting freshwater systems is not unique to Bhutan. A 2023 WWF report titled “The High Cost of Cheap Water” revealed that the economic value of water-related ecosystems globally is estimated at USD 58 trillion, nearly 60% of global GDP. Yet rivers and wetlands are vanishing—two-thirds of major rivers are no longer free-flowing, and wetlands are disappearing three times faster than forests.

Bhutan may be rich in water—with over 94,000 cubic meters per person per year—but access, not abundance, is the true challenge.

As the PES initiative slowly takes shape, back in his modest home tucked behind the hills, Sangay Dorji returns to his porch.

He waits. He stores. He hopes.

But this time, his hope is no longer in barrels. It’s in the hills, the springs, the trees—and the people who protect them.

If Dotikhola’s forest can breathe again, perhaps Phuentsholing, too, will one day drink freely.

 

This transformative story is supported by the Federal Ministry for the Environment, Nature Conservation and Nuclear Safety through WWF-Bhutan, with the Journalism Reporting Grant from JAB on the IKI Living Landscape Project: Securing High Conservation Values in Southwestern Bhutan.

Nidup Lhamo  from Phuentsholing