It is like any other evening in Kathmandu’s Gongabu neighbourhood. But at seven every day as the market starts to shut down, Sunita Pradhan Limbu steps out with a heavy bucket in one hand and a packet of plates in the other. Some 30 dogs wait outside, tails wagging furiously. They are used to Sunita appearing every evening, and encircle her. Sunita pours out the meal of rice and meat on each plate and the dogs gobble it all up. This has been Sunita’s routine for the past few years. She does not collect funds from anyone and buys food on her own to feed the community dogs out of affection for the animals, expecting nothing in return except love. “I’ve gotten back from them more than I could ever give them,” says Sunita, who started feeding the dogs during the Covid-19 lockdowns when she saw many pets abandoned on the streets by owners who returned to their hometowns. Sunita, 50, is a musician, and could not allow the dogs that were used to home and family not to be cared for. So she became their guardian. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/suburban-tales/one-more-to-remember">One more to remember</a>, Pratibha Tuladhar  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240802070820_03c83448f095ddb9a67dce15c814ff9e28617568927ac2cc8ea3643da02c13d5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20240802070820_03c83448f095ddb9a67dce15c814ff9e28617568927ac2cc8ea3643da02c13d5" data-rendition-name="original" width="1576" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="One dog at a time NT"> <figcaption>Photos: SUMAN NEPALI</figcaption> </figure>  Sunita’s maternal grandfather was a veterinarian, and she had grown up sharing his affection for animals, which left a mark on young Sunita. As a child, she grew up with a pet dog named Johnny. After her marriage in 1998, Sunita lived in Hong Kong with her husband. She came back to Nepal in 2014 to release her solo album Arohi. During that time, as she was running errands for the album launch, she came across a mother dog who was lying lifelessly, surrounded by her young pups. She did not do anything that day, but two days later when she went back to rescue the pups, it was too late. They were nowhere to be found. That day, Sunita made a promise to herself that she would care for other dogs in distress. “I remembered my childhood and was determined to revive my love for dogs and care for them,” she recalls. But caring for the neighbourhood dogs has forced her to drastically change her lifestyle. Sunita was an outgoing person, candid and lively with friends. Now she hardly has time to meet friends or go on a holiday. “I can no longer enjoy overnight stays or meet up with friends because I can’t stop thinking about my kids,” she says of her strays. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/must-love-dogs-js05baah">Must love dogs</a>, Benjamin Zimmerman  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240802070820_0c067d57596b5821e701dad779a99a7fd9117427fcc738f95c6f83711a879f06.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20240802070820_0c067d57596b5821e701dad779a99a7fd9117427fcc738f95c6f83711a879f06" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="One dog at a time NT"> </figure>  Her love for music has taken a hit too. She has had to invest in recording her songs, but cannot think of doing that now when the same money will buy food for the 60 or so dogs in her neighbourhood. Sunita also always has the door on the first floor of her house open in case the dogs need shelter. It is particularly useful on rainy nights and in winter. Dogs know where to go, and there is always a soft sack to sleep on. Apart from the stray dogs, Sunita also has nine pet dogs of her own that she rescued from the street after she found them injured. The first one was rescued by her daughter, much like young Sunita used to do with stray pups and kittens. Seeing Sunita spend her day and night caring for the dogs has also made her mother and family support her wholeheartedly. Initially, her neighbours complained that the dogs were littering their sidewalks. But her selfless love for the dogs has won them over too, so much so that her neighbours now also help keep a bowl of water and food for the strays. Everyday is now Kukur Tihar in this Gongabu neighbourhood. Says Sunita: “If you can, love and care for them. If you cannot do that, at least do not hate or beat them.” &nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/kalle-s-cross-continental-journey">Kalle's cross-continental journey</a>

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One dog at a time

Love for dogs is somewhat inherited. Humans have probably evolved to develop a special kind of gene that makes them predisposed to love dogs. And as canines evolved, dogs probably have bonding with humans in their DNA too. That could be why I have always felt an instant connection with a dog, I am sure I was born with it. I also feel that instant connection with fellow dog lovers than with anyone else. I was born in a family where dogs were tremendously loved and cared for. My mother’s two biggest gifts to me are a) a kind heart, and b) love for all animals, especially dogs. Read Also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/kathmandu-s-street-smart-dogs">Kathmandu’s street-smart dogs</a>, Sonia Awale I grew up hearing her story of the time when I was 6 and was bitten near my eye by my uncle’s dog. I needed to get stitches. Even today, she says she fails to understand why that never stopped me from loving dogs, and why I was never scared of them even after that traumatic event in my childhood. As a child, my favourite memory is going out for walks with my mother when she fed biscuits to stray pups along the way. We knew the dogs all along the alleys outside the house. It is a practice I have inherited. As soon as we walked out of the house, we would be trailed by neighbourhood dogs wagging their tails wildly in anticipation. They used to follow up right to the little corner store. And what grateful creatures God of Dogs created, the love and loyalty they show in exchange of one small treat or a little rub on their head.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20231112031136_7c8cc7593d5acf3f399ddd31b1cecb2f69b6b13093459444fcc3efe57c415c93.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20231112031136_7c8cc7593d5acf3f399ddd31b1cecb2f69b6b13093459444fcc3efe57c415c93" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1366" loading="lazy" alt="must love dogs"><figcaption>PHOTO: SUMAN NEPALI</figcaption></figure>  So, when I say I love dogs, I am a bit biased. I have more affection for the strays on the road, the breed now recognised as a distinct species and which Nepalis fondly call bhusyaha kukur. My love for stray mutts and pups has led me to rescue a few, my four-legged girls. Many of these furry friends have since then found their way to my heart. Some are abandoned, others are community canines whom I feed snacks. Read Also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/kukur-biralo-tihar">Kukur Biralo Tihar</a>, Monika Deupala Each of them has a unique personality, each has a unique story to tell. Beyond their limitations of not having a home, they all enjoy and value their life in the streets and between struggling to protect their territory to finding food, they are also surrounded by humans who love them, feed them, give them a belly rub. And it is heart-warming to see them walking around proudly with marigold garlands, foreheads red with vermilion on <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/kukur-biralo-tihar">Kukur Tihar</a> (which this year falls on 12 November). This festival, which is unique to Nepal, is an equaliser because it forces us to embrace purebred pets at home equally with the strays outside. The sad part, of course, is that the dogs we worship in the morning are scared out of their wits in the evening when the firecrackers start going off. Many strays and pets are so spooked they run away and are lost during Tihar. We have to be more mindful of this. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/microchipping-nepals-dogs/">Microchipping Nepal’s dogs</a>, Aria Shree Parasai From living in the moment to loving selflessly to never complaining to never stopping to being happy, we humans have a lot to learn from dogs. My hope is that we all continue this celebration all year round, that we find ways to rehome stray dogs, that we stop buying and start rescuing. For someone who has rescued dogs myself, I can tell you there is nothing as liberating as this act of humanity. And the rewards that you receive in return is immeasurable. We can all take action by not buying another dog for our home, and who knows, the next rescue you make is the one who will rescue you.

Must love dogs

Every Day Is Dog Day

<figure><img width="718" height="525" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111124/636cd1cc9c7e80680e08f8d7jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>This photo of a community dog with an image of Prime Minister Oli went viral on social media. She was dragged around town by the All Nepal Free Student Union to protest the prime minister’s dissolution of the House. Photo: SOCIAL MEDIA</figcaption></figure>Among the many street protests that followed Prime Minister K P Oli’s <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepalis-outraged-by-pm-oli-move/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">dissolution of the Lower House</a> on 20 December was one by students in Charikot in which a she-dog bearing the portrait of the prime minister was dragged around town. The photo of the dog went viral on social media, drawing widespread anger and criticism. When animal rights activist Pramada Shah saw the images on the internet, she reacted instantly: “We have to rescue this dog.” Her team from Animal Nepal quickly traced the student leaders involved in the procession through Facebook posts, and spoke to them at length on the phone about the need to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/in-an-animal-farm/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">protect animals</a>, and not punish them for human actions. <figure><img width="1500" height="1125" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111124/636cd1cf9c7e80680e08f8d8jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Activists from Animal Nepal try to approach a traumatised Chari in Charikot last week. Photos: Animal Nepal</figcaption></figure>The debate went back and forth. The student leaders, Roshan Khadka and Bharat Shrestha first alleged that the opposition had taken pictures to make them look bad and that they had “only dragged the dog for like ten metres”. Then they argued that the idea was to show that <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/woof-of-fresh-air-for-street-dogs-in-kathmandu,4132" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">community dogs</a> are more faithful than the prime minister.“The reasoning was quite contradictory to the act of cruelty, but we were eventually able to seek their support in helping us rescue the dog,” explains Shah. “I said you can’t do this because you are responsible student leaders. They’ve committed to never hurt animals again for political reasons.”Nirmal Sharma, a lawyer who works with Animal Nepal arrived in Dolakha with his colleagues. It took them a while to find the dog who had gone into hiding after the traumatic experience. Students Khadka and Shrestha helped trace the dog, and she was brought to Kathmandu.  Animal Nepal named her ‘Chari’ after Charikot, and she was checked for wounds and diseases. Says Sharma: “She’s fine and now she lives at our office with other dogs.”Chari has started making friends with other mutts who live at the rescue home, but she is terrified of the leash. Says Shah: “Leashes scare her because she was traumatised. She’s a quiet dog, really scared and timid. Basically, they used an animal to give out a political message.” <figure><img width="1225" height="816" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111124/636cd1d29c7e80680e08f8d9jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Chari in her new home in Kathmandu, with friend Chhampi.</figcaption></figure>Shah finds it concerning that Nepali language is rife with analogies that equate negative human attributes to animals. “It’s something we need to get over. We got rid of gender bias in language, we need to make our language sensitive towards animals, too,” she says.Nepal’s laws provide animals little or no protection. The Muluki Ain enshrined protection of cows and bulls for religious reasons. “The Muluki Aparadh Samhita 2074, has a list of dos and don’ts in terms of crimes related to animals, but they have to be hinged on harm caused to humans to be punishable. Evidence is low when it comes to animals, so it’s usually hard to push for laws,” says Sharma.Pramada Shah believes <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/bhaktapurs-dog-catchers/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">animals</a> need legal protection, and her organisation has been pushing for it. She adds, “Once the law comes through maybe our animals will be treated better– but there’s a lot of work to do. But everything is dependent on politics.”Indeed, it was the same politics that made Chari a part of a street demonstration, and one that gave her nationwide fame at the cost of trauma.

Saving Chari

Fenerbahçe Beko won the Turkish Airlines EuroLeague finals in Abu Dhabi, held 23-25 May, defeating Monaco 81-70 in the final. Olympiacos, who defeated Panathinaikos 97-93, finished the series in third place. The Most Valuable Player (MVP) of the final match, Nigel Hayes-Davis from Fenerbahçe Beko, received a prize of 1,000,000 Miles&amp;Smiles from Turkish Airlines’ Chief Commercial Officer Ahmet Olmuştur. The carrier has been the title sponsor of the Turkish Airlines EuroLeague, a top tier tournament, since 2010.

Turkish Basketball

While Nepal was hosting the Sagarmatha Sambaad international climate conference in Kathmandu this month, on Mt Everest it was pretty much business as usual.&nbsp; The signs of climate breakdown are all there: a river now runs through Base Camp in summer, the Khumbu Icefall is more unstable, and there are more &nbsp;frequent avalanches. When expeditions arrived in March, the mountains were bare: it had not snowed since September, but then blizzards dumped unseasonal snow in May. And despite climate worries, such is the pull of Himalayan mountaineering that the Everest Industry showed no signs of slowdown. More than 600 international climbers and their Nepali guides had made it to the summit of the world’s highest mountain. At one point there were an estimated 2,000 people in the tent city on the Khumbu Glacier. All the ropes and ladders on the Icefall came down on Thursday, marking the official end of the spring climbing season, and just in time to avoid a monsoon cyclone approaching from the Bay of Bengal. It has been an action-packed season. One factor could be that Everest fees will go up from September: each foreign climber needs to pay a $15,000 royalty, up from the present $11,000. The cost for a Nepali climber on the South Col route will also go up: from Rs75,000 to Rs150,000.&nbsp; The fee to climb Everest in autumn is $7,500 (up from $5,500), but most climbers still prefer spring. Winter permit fee (December-February) is only $3,750 per person and the mountain is now also open for monsoon (June-August) climbs, when the fee is ever lower at $2,750. The revised rule also makes it mandatory for every two climbers on an 8,000m peak to hire one Nepali mountain guide.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025053004050_67f856fe52714e4bdcf21ae7d45c6f18c82117b9d0a5f73ed1efa04c96de1046.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2025053004050_67f856fe52714e4bdcf21ae7d45c6f18c82117b9d0a5f73ed1efa04c96de1046" data-rendition-name="original" width="931" height="732" loading="lazy" alt="The Everest Industry graph 1"> </figure>  In addition, climbers also have to pay for porters and guides, equipment, Base Camp costs, Ice Fall and fixed rope team fees, so climbing Everest does not come cheap. But such is the draw of climbing the world’s highest peak that some say the increased fees will not diminish the crowds next year. The government has tried to spread expeditions out to other seasons and other 8,000ers, but with not much success. Earlier this year, Nepal unilaterally increased the number of 8,000m peaks to 14 by adding six more sub-summits to broaden the choice for climbers. Added were: Yalung Kang (8,505m), Yalung Kang West (8,077m) &nbsp;Kangchenjunga Central (8,473m), Kangchenjunga South (8,476m), Lhotse Middle (8,410m) and Lhotse Shar (8,400m).&nbsp; The announcement could go against the accepted topographic criteria that a stand alone peak has to be at least 300m higher than an adjoining prominence, and at more than 3km isolation from it. The UIAA (Union Internationale des Associations d'Alpinisme) still recognises only 14 mountains as eight-thousanders, and only eight of those are in Nepal, or on the border with China. Nepal’s revised mountaineering regulations also increased the insurance coverage of high-altitude workers to protect porters and high altitude guides who usually take more risks on the mountains. Rescue teams and clean-up campaigners to collect trash and remove bodies of dead climbers up to Camp IV of Mt Everest do not need permits.&nbsp; The Sagarmatha Pollution Control Committee is now using drones to fly down trash in 20kg sacks. Each climber is also required to bring down at least 6kg of waste and not just their own, but this rule is erratically enforced. With five fatalities on Everest and Lhotse, Spring 2025 had a historically low death toll. Another five climbers died on Annapurna, Kangchenjunga and Makalu.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025053004050_38681de22f0fefb6faa12b01755566d09c5064d0ff84e12ccc7b5d68ea9ba38a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2025053004050_38681de22f0fefb6faa12b01755566d09c5064d0ff84e12ccc7b5d68ea9ba38a" data-rendition-name="original" width="665" height="740" loading="lazy" alt="The Everest industry graph 2"> </figure>  Journalist Ben Ayers who ran the Everest Live social media channel from Everest Base Camp with daily updates credited the low death rate to dramatic rescues of climbers from the ‘Death Zone’ by their Nepali guides and longline helievacs — the visuals all uploaded on YouTube.&nbsp; “Ironically, this perception of safety is bringing more and more inexperienced climbers to the mountain, and they need more rescues,” Ayers said in one of his dispatches.&nbsp; American expedition chronicler and summiteer Alan Arnette suspects there is a lot of under-reporting given that the jet stream and storms were lashing Everest even till late in the season. He told us: “I heard a lot about frostbite and rescues that were not made public. It’s become practically impossible to cover the details on Everest. All the teams report nice news, and they don’t talk about bad stuff to avoid hurting businesses.” Although trash on Nepal’s mountains makes headlines, what does not receive as much attention is the climate impact of so many expeditions. The Sagarmatha Sambaad conference sidestepped this issue, which is ironic given that the impact of climate breakdown is most evident on Himalayan peaks and their glaciers.&nbsp; <h2>Need for Speed</h2> The big stories this year have been about speed-running from their home cities to the top of Everest. Ukrainian entrepreneur Andrew Ushakov flew out of JFK on 15 May at 10:15AM Nepal time, and was on the summit 3 days, 23 hours, and 7 minutes later on 19 May at 9:22AM.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250601080640_1c5cc6fc991307861768f07037ed9d30930fb20f35dbb57dc31c9a92a9e1a885.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250601080640_1c5cc6fc991307861768f07037ed9d30930fb20f35dbb57dc31c9a92a9e1a885" data-rendition-name="original" width="1440" height="1800" loading="lazy" alt="The Everest Industry"> <figcaption>Andrew Ushakov at the summt. Photo: ELITE EXPED</figcaption> </figure>  “I could never find the time for the traditional 40-50 days of acclimatisation,” Ushakov explained matter-of-factly. His ‘Everest Sea-to-Summit’ climb was possible because he spent 400 hours in hypoxic sleep tents over the past four years in New York. However, Ushakov did use ropes already fixed, hired four Nepali guides, helicoptered to Base Camp, and used much more oxygen than an average climber. And after the climb, Ushakov was arrested at Kathmandu airport for being in possession of $20,000 of undeclared cash and spent a night in jail and fined $60,000.&nbsp; The other speedsters were Garth Miller, Alastair Cairns, Anthony Stazicker, and Kev Godlington, all former British Army commandos. They left London and summited five days later on 21 May, and flew right back. They also used hypoxic tents to simulate the thin air high on Everest.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250601080644_90c8dd5cc07b4b43f2989b1dc0c0650ab80f10ebb06680c25a6909c519957bd8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250601080644_90c8dd5cc07b4b43f2989b1dc0c0650ab80f10ebb06680c25a6909c519957bd8" data-rendition-name="original" width="810" height="668" loading="lazy" alt="The Everest Industry "> <figcaption>All four members of the Furtenbach team at the summit. Photo: Sandro Gromen-Hayes</figcaption> </figure>  But more controversial was their use of xenon gas therapy in a German hospital to ramp up the production of oxygen-carrying haemoglobins in their blood. Xenon is banned by the World Anti-Doping Agency for being performance enhancing in sports. Expedition leader Lukas Furtenbach said this rule does not apply to mountaineering, as it is not a regulated sport like swimming. Nepal has no rules about xenon, but the Department of Tourism said it was launching an ‘investigation’ to decide on future policy since it is difficult to ban xenon, but allow oxygen. The controversy has also divided the mountaineering community, with some climbers saying they just want to maximise their chances of survival. Spending less time on the mountain could make climbing safer by reducing avalanche risk. It would also mean less trash on the mountains, but it would reduce the income of Nepal’s expedition industry. It is also unclear how much of the success was due to xenon therapy and whether the ex-special forces were already in good physical shape.&nbsp; The need for speed hides the fact that climbing in the Himalaya is dangerous business, and climbers cannot sprint to the top just by huffing xenon. But ultra-fast climbs could be charged more, and the revenue generated can be used to establish state-of-the-art rescue operations, and increase pay and insurance for guides. Two other speed chasers this season were Swiss-Ecuadorian Karl Egloff and American Tyler Andrews, both on Everest without oxygen. Andrews choppered to Base Camp to catch a weather window, but turned back from 8,500m due to high winds. Heavy snow and wind also forced Egloff to descend from 7,000m. Slow and steady climbers like Anja Blacha from Germany did make it to the summit without oxygen, while Kami Rita Sherpa broke his own record with his 31st Everest summit as he led a 26-strong Indian Army group. There were 468 permits issued for foreign climbers from 48 expeditions to Everest this spring. Nepal’s other eight-thousanders together had only 17 expeditions. Nepal has more than 1,000 peaks above 6,000m, and has opened only 476 of them for climbing.&nbsp;

The Everest Industry

While Nepal marked <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/mt-everest-pvt-ltd">Mt Everest</a> Day on 29 May, on the other side of the planet in the US state of Colorado dozens of Nepalis who have climbed the world’s highest peak multiple times were busy working as chefs and Uber drivers. Among them is Nima Doma Sherpa, who climbed Mt Everest in 2019 after her husband Tshering Wangchu was among 16 crushed by an avalanche on <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/on-thin-ice-in-the-khumbu">the Khumbu Icefall</a> five years earlier. A large serac broke off the West Shoulder of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-everest-industry">Mt Everest </a>and fell directly on a group of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/more-porters-sick-on-everest-trail">porters and guides</a> making their way up the Icefall at 5,800m. Their bodies were flown by helicopter to Khumjung where Tshering Wangchu was born. He was excited about climbing Mt Everest for the first time.&nbsp; In Khumjung, Nima Doma felt like her own life had also ended. This was the kind of news Sherpa wives, mothers and sisters dreaded every <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/peak-climbing-season-2025-s4abrxny">mountaineering season</a>. She stayed home for more than two years grieving, but ultimately gathered up all her emotional strength to take care of her 6-year-old son and 3-year-old daughter. Nima had grown up in Khumjung hearing <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/stories-of-nepal-s-summiteers">tales of adventure on the mountains </a>from their father, Ang Chubi Sherpa who had climbed Everest in 1993. He used to bring her and her sisters and brother European chocolates after every expedition, and used to tell them that the chocolate bars grew on the mountains. “It was only after we got older did we realise that he told us that chocolates grew in the mountains so we would not worry about him putting himself in harm's way,” Nima Doma recalled with a faraway look at her home in Boulder this week. Nima went to the school that <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/commemorating-edmund-hillary-in-nepal,4145">Edmund Hillary</a> opened in Khumjung till Grade 8, and then dropped out to help in the kitchen and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/when-yaks-go-so-does-culture">tend yaks</a>. She was married off to Tshering Wangchu, who was also a high altitude guide. When Tshering went on expeditions, Nima also started working as a porter from Namche to Base Camp. It was perhaps her father’s tales of mountains of chocolates that had always attracted her to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/knowing-our-mountains-43v4iyvo">the peaks</a>. After her husband was killed ten years ago this month, being a widow with children was not easy for Nima Doma. But she was not alone: there were at least 200 single mothers in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/khumbu-since-1950-jaww4qn0">the Khumbu</a>, and 20 of them just in Khumjung whose husbands had been killed in <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/tragic-start-to-himalayan-spring-nepal,3695">mountaineering accidents</a>. Some were not even 20 years old, and had children growing up without fathers. But there were also women in the 50s whose husbands had been killed in the 1980s. Nima found sponsors for her children’s education, and moved to Kathmandu. In the capital, Sherpa widows used to meet to help each other. Some of them had joined the Nepal Mountaineering Association (NMA) training for rock and ice climbing. “I decided that it was no use sitting home and crying anymore, after meeting other single mothers I felt less alone,” remembers Nima, who joined the Juniper Foundation and enrolled in an NMA training camp in Manang. There she climbed Chulu East (6,584m) and met Furadiki Sherpa, whose rope-fixing husband had also been <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/on-mt-everest-s-70th-records-and-fatalities">killed on Everest</a> in 2013. They set themselves the goal of climbing Everest one day, and started a fund-raising drive.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250530090544_621be0724b9182c8e3594b2c562a71ec32ac01d985a71d0cf31646de9d51e15a.png" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20250530090544_621be0724b9182c8e3594b2c562a71ec32ac01d985a71d0cf31646de9d51e15a" data-rendition-name="original" width="2678" height="1274" loading="lazy" alt="Everest summiteers find new life in the US"> </figure>  “We decided we had to overcome society’s stigma of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/widows-personal-happiness-comes-last-in-face-of-social-financial-hardships,1855">widowhood</a> and prove that <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/remembering-junko-tabei">women could also climb mountains</a>,” Nima said, adding that she was inspired by Nepal’s first woman Everest summiteer Pasang Lhamu Sherpa, who died during her descent in 1993. Nima Doma and Furdiki climbed the technically-difficult Ama Dablam (6,812m) and then arrived at Everest Base Camp in April 2019 as part of their Two Widows Expedition with the motto, ‘So Can We’. While climbing up the Icefall Nima passed the spot where her husband had been killed. It was a jumble of constantly-shifting ice blocks bigger than houses. She closed her eyes and said a prayer. “I remember thinking, this is so difficult and dangerous. This is what my husband had to do to support our family,” Nima Doma said. “I was determined to fulfil my husband’s dream of climbing Chomolungma, and to prove to ourselves that we two women could do it.” It was 23 May 2019 when <a href="https://www.reuters.com/article/world/two-sherpa-widows-scale-everest-and-smash-stigma-idUSKCN1SU0MV/" target="_blank">Nima and Furdiki stepped on the summit</a> and looked over into Tibet, and down at Tengboche Monastery to the south.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250530090544_6b822582b5d88ba5e972db084f184690b40653c6efd9901b2dd082ffba2a263b.png" data-media-id="editor_16" data-image-id="20250530090544_6b822582b5d88ba5e972db084f184690b40653c6efd9901b2dd082ffba2a263b" data-rendition-name="original" width="2700" height="1522" loading="lazy" alt="Everest summiteers find new life in the US"> </figure>  Nima Doma hugged Furdiki, took off her mask and wept. But for the first time in five years, it was not from grief but relief — relief for being free of all the sadness and sacrifices and for fulfilling her husband’s dream. They had found <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/life-after-death">life after death</a>. “I felt this immense joy to be on top of the world, it was indescribable,” Nima Doma said, “I have wept only twice in my life. Once when my husband died, and once there on top of Everest.” The tears had frozen on Nima Doma’s cheeks, as she and Furdiki headed back down the mountain.

Everest summiteers find new life in the US

Chinese EV company Dongfeng Nammi has exported 12,000 units of the JF-S3 to over 40 countries, doing especially well in Norway, Latvia, the Czech Republic, and the Netherlands. It is also setting up production facilities in South America and Southeast Asia.&nbsp;

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