This is the 69th episode of Diaspora Diaries, a Nepali Times series in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working and studying abroad. <h2>Mahesh Chowdhury</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250710090736_a0eda4e463f347008c8198f1731e02bc1bbec70d404df85aa60b9289d94dc3d9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250710090736_a0eda4e463f347008c8198f1731e02bc1bbec70d404df85aa60b9289d94dc3d9" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="900" loading="lazy" alt="Mahesh Chowdhury"> </figure>  I am from Kanchanpur, headed to Gujarat where I work as an electrician. I came home for my vacation.&nbsp; I earn well there, above INR27,000 a month and my supervisor is entirely reliant on me. My father also worked in India back in the day as a driver. I was 15 when I first went to India 12 years ago, and had to do so given my family’s situation.&nbsp; I started at the bottom, but as I learnt work and gained experience, my earnings improved. I do not need to go to any other country like <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/migrants-returning-from-the-gulf-with-infertility">the Gulf </a>or Malaysia. One of my uncles insisted that I go to Malaysia but I said no. I am doing just fine in India, and I can keep <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/visit-nepal-again">visiting Nepal </a>as I please. I have built a house already with my savings. I do not have any trouble finding work in India as my contractor gets a lot of jobs which he delegates to me.&nbsp; I came home for two weeks to see my mother who is sick and to take her to the hospital.&nbsp; I don’t like the idea of going to third countries beyond India. When my great aunt died, I came for her last rites but her own son could not come home from Malaysia.&nbsp; <h2>Hem Raj Panta</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250710090740_a5576b924822900a451befb7e0bcc2b4d7dc8128b0d4c0162b49d2fd4c97acea.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250710090740_a5576b924822900a451befb7e0bcc2b4d7dc8128b0d4c0162b49d2fd4c97acea" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="900" loading="lazy" alt="Hem Raj Panta"> </figure>  I was born in Baitadi, and after completing Grade 10, tried my hand at <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-sets-ambitious-target-for-food-sufficiency">modern agriculture</a>. But this did not do well because I did not have access to markets, cold storage or roads.&nbsp; I moved to India to work in a garment factory. The monthly earning of INR7,000 barely helped cover our household expenses, and we had <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/near-debt-experience">outstanding loans</a>. So, I decided to go to Dubai, where I worked in garment and delivery for a monthly salary of Rs45,000.&nbsp; My brother was already working <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-malaysia-nepal-migrant-scam-nexus">in Malaysia</a>. In fact, we met in Kathmandu when he was returning from Malaysia and I was headed to Dubai. Later, I also worked in Malaysia at a company that manufactured vacuum parts. Although the earnings were good, I decided not to renew my contract. My parents were aging, and my son was growing up. I wanted to be around them.&nbsp; I attended the same school which my father went to in Baitadi. It was quite a distance from home and the only option was to rent a room near the school. My father was concerned that he could not prioritise his studies, and neither could he do the same for us.&nbsp; He did not want the same fate for his grandson, so I decided to break the cycle. I moved my son to Dhangadi where he now has access to better education. I drive a rickshaw that I bought with my Malaysia earnings. I earn enough in Nepal now to take care of my <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/state-sponsored-economic-crisis-ikcxxmnp">household expenses </a>and also enjoy the freedom of working on my own terms. Most of all I like eating at home with my family every day, unlike the food we ate in plastic bags when I was overseas. <h2>Ramesh Bhul</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250710090740_dff1594f36488152183f79696158cca9cc55219d252c14139b307ef9fae554b7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250710090740_dff1594f36488152183f79696158cca9cc55219d252c14139b307ef9fae554b7" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="900" loading="lazy" alt="Ramesh Bhul"> </figure>  I am going to rejoin my job as a household help in Rajasthan. I clean, cook and it has been five years since I worked there. I came home to Kanchanpur for almost a year to help with farmwork this time. I am going back to Rajasthan with my brother and his entire family who also work in the same house as me. My wife did not accompany me though.&nbsp; I first went to India when I was just 12, and am 23 now. My father passed, so household responsibilities fell on my shoulders at a young age. I would have liked to go to countries like Malaysia, Dubai and Qatar, but I cannot afford it. I have had to borrow money just to go to India. <h2>Lalmati Mahara</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250710090740_3607fd15b5ca081fb39fe7f102d72fb7b66e1b8b24767a9a00093a12874c0315.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20250710090740_3607fd15b5ca081fb39fe7f102d72fb7b66e1b8b24767a9a00093a12874c0315" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="900" loading="lazy" alt="Lalmati Mahara"> </figure>  My husband’s attempt to go overseas did not work out because he failed his pre-departure medical tests. We go back and forth between India and Nepal quite frequently.&nbsp; Before the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-marks-rice-planting-day">paddy planting season</a>, my husband and I were in Bangalore. I work as a household help and he works at a company. But as Bangalore is too far, we are now going to Delhi. He will work at a cooler company arranged by my brother-in-law and I will again find work as domestic help.&nbsp; My in-laws take care of our children, and we earn INR10-15,000 each. We will again come home during the harvest season. That is what life is like, we time our trips around the agriculture seasons.&nbsp; We have lived in many places across India. In Nepal, we cannot find work. That’s why we go, we come back, we work in the fields, and go back again. We do it for the kids. <h2>Prem Khadka</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250710090740_a4511b185792d04a90f1fd884c5ae3328773c412eb6efa7497bec34c8d2a4966.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20250710090740_a4511b185792d04a90f1fd884c5ae3328773c412eb6efa7497bec34c8d2a4966" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Prem Khadka"> </figure>  I am from Dadeldhura. There were no hospitals or roads in my village then. I studied till Grade 10, and I went to Delhi when I was 18. I worked in a canteen as a tea-boy, and slowly worked my way up. I had neither the skills nor the experience for anything beyond.&nbsp; Now I am a cook in Maharashtra, where I earn almost INR30,000 at a five-star hotel. For those with <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/after-quantity-nepals-education-needs-quality">good education</a> and experience, India offers opportunities. Because I had neither, it took a long time to get there.&nbsp; The starting phase in India can be very difficult because we have to learn skills and gain experience, but things get better. You also need good references to move ahead. It was the same with me. I have done it all: washed dishes, cut vegetables, worked in the boiling area and so on.&nbsp; You watch and learn to advance, you step up whenever there is an opportunity to earn the team’s trust and you gradually work your way up. There is no short cut, especially when you do not have references. Now I am happy with where I am at, and am glad I am a reference for many Nepalis who go there seeking opportunities.&nbsp; I come home twice a year and time it around<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/farm-subsidies-money-down-the-drain"> agriculture seasons </a>so I can help at home. I myself have not tried applying to five stars in Gulf countries but I have seen friends who despite having the practical skills got kicked out during interviews or got cheated by fraudulent recruiters.

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India Bound

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022120710124/639057299c7e80680e0ce143jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1080" height="720"/><figcaption>Coach Lekhnath Lamsal with his volleyball team in Pokhara after his return from Qatar.</figcaption></figure>This is the 19th instalment of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/diaspora-diaries-1/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/diaspora-diaries-1/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1667462176137000&amp;usg=AOvVaw2dJwfp-y2h_cWMn9Bj77nK">Diaspora Diaries</a>, a regular series in Nepali Times with stories of Nepalis living and working abroad. For most people life is a continuous transition from one stage to another. Not for me.I am in my mid-40s, currently pursuing a bachelor’s degree with students who are my son’s age. My life is a series of seemingly random vignettes strung together in no particular order. Yet, in retrospect, they have collectively shaped who I am today.As a school student in Pokhara, I suffered from a bone disease that caused body ache, restricted my mobility and caused recurrent fever. After expensive visits to hospitals, I finally landed a good doctor in Delhi who cured me. Had there been a delay in treatment, he said, and I would not have been so lucky.His last words before discharging me from hospital still rings in my ears:  “Forget you were ever sick. You are young and have your whole life ahead of you. From now on, bring out your inner courage and zest for life.” And I did.When I started Grade 11, I felt like I had been given an empty slate to start a new life. I was finally free of pain, and anything was possible.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022120710124/6390572b9c7e80680e0ce144jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="732" height="762">I developed a love for sports, especially volleyball, which I was surprisingly good at. Standing tall at 1.88m, I was the best spiker and was known for my ability to jump high. My interest in studies decreased as my love of the game increased. The cheers of supporters made me feel formidable. On the volleyball court, I was king.I was getting noticed and had started to build a fan base. The chief of Pokhara police recruited me, and I got even better at the game with practice and training. Before long, I was in the national team playing in different tournaments, including the South Asian Games.My salary was low, and I couldn’t even afford to buy new shoes when they wore out. A pair of sports shoes cost more than my entire month’s pay.  Life was getting unaffordable, and I had responsibilities to provide for my family. Which is why I had to take the difficult decision to leave for overseas work, just like everyone else. I was passionate about volleyball, but there was no future and security in it.This is the reality of Nepal. Whether you are a national player or not, all roads eventually lead to the Gulf or Malaysia.In 2002, I got on a plane for Qatar where I was to work as a security guard. My wife was pregnant back in Pokhara with my daughter, our second child. This was a time when there were not as many Nepalis in Qatar.I eventually spent 14 years in Qatar, my new home. During that time, I was promoted five times, and ultimately became a branch manager overseeing other security guards in the company. My starting salary was 900 QAR but by the time I left, it was 7,000 QAR ($1,900).I was luckier than most Nepalis. I knew that because I had taken bodies of migrant workers to hospital, or watched construction workers struggle in the extreme heat for low wages in Qatar.I also managed to find time to play volleyball in tournaments organised by the Qatar Volleyball Association between various nationalities. There were moments when cheers from fellow Nepalis gave me an adrenaline rush and a powerful feeling.I was lucky enough to go home frequently, every two years initially and once a year after my last couple of promotions. But then my daughter Alisha became ill, and I had to rush back to Nepal. <figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022120710124/6390572e9c7e80680e0ce145jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="540" height="960"><figcaption>Lekhnath Lamsal at a volleyball tournament while he was working in Qatar for 14 years.</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022120710124/6390572f9c7e80680e0ce146jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1440" height="1920"><figcaption>Lamsal with his daughter, who died at 16 while undergoing treatment for cancer.</figcaption></figure>She, too, was having chronic body aches and it was hard for her to move. I had to find out what was wrong, and nip it in the bud. It reminded me of similar symptoms I had as a child, and recovering in a hospital in India. Except in my daughter’s case, doctors found a tumour.I could not extend my one-month emergency leave. My wife stayed back in the village with our two sons while I took my daughter to hospital in Kathmandu. Doctors removed her tumour, after which she had to go through several rounds of aggressive chemotherapy.My savings from the job in Qatar made it possible for me to afford to pay her medical bills which had racked up to almost Rs6 million. Friends who had known me through volleyball across the world as well as colleagues in Qatar pitched in, donating Rs1.7 million. This generosity brought enormous relief at a time when I was feeling lowest.My daughter kept her spirits up throughout her struggle. Once, she told me that she was not going to make it and had a premonition that the end was near. Her body was unable to handle the painful side effects of chemotherapy. I could feel her slipping away.The image of her looking frail and small in the ventilator is etched in my heart. It is painful when I remember how we communicated with each other through eyes blurred with tears, as she tried to make a few feeble gestures and I struggled to mumble words of comfort. I was not ready to say goodbye.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022120710124/639057329c7e80680e0ce147jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="853"><figcaption>Lekhnath Lamsal back in Nepal, where he has enrolled at age 42 in a bachelor’s program in a college where he is also a part-time coach.</figcaption></figure>Ten days after she had shared with me her premonition, Alisha passed away. She was just 16 which her whole life ahead her. It has been four years now.I am too old now to play volley professionally, although I play in tournaments for 40+ year olds here and there. I have no interest in going back to Qatar because I will have to start from scratch.So I picked up where I had left off, and recently joined a bachelor’s program in sports management at Gandaki College, while working as a volleyball trainer on the side. I hoped to improve things for players so they would not have to struggle as much as I did.Players, who should be at the centre in Nepal, are nowhere in the priority list. Like everything else in Nepal, sports governance has been infiltrated by politics and vested interests.Although I am two decades late, I realise the importance of education and a degree. My class mates are half my age, and I switch back and forth between being their guardian figure and friend.I study hard and am a grade topper in my cohort. But university homework does not relieve me from my household responsibilities, I am up by four am every morning taking care of household chores, including tending to our cow and buffalo.Translated from a conversation with the author. <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/diaspora-diaries-3/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/diaspora-diaries-3/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1667462176137000&amp;usg=AOvVaw3A3GJLtuseTTIMh0KZ3_i5">Diaspora Diaries</a> is a regular column in Nepali Times providing a platform for Nepalis to share their experiences of living, working, studying abroad.Authentic and original entries can be sent to <a href="mailto:editors@nepalitimes.com" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">editors@nepalitimes.com</a> with Diaspora Diaries in the subject line.Read more:  <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/speaking-the-language-of-overseas-work/">Speaking the language of overseas work</a>

Work hard, play hard

<img width="800" height="533" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111414110/63723bd09c7e80680e0c95e4jpeg.jpg" alt=""/>Dasain is a time for Nepali families to get together. Kathmandu’s population drops by half as people head back to their home districts, and flights to and within Nepal are full during the festive season.But two years of Covid made travel difficult, and since then high air fares have discouraged many from <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/post-covid-rebound-for-nepals-airlines/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">flying</a>. Which is why virtual vermilion tika and Jamara barley shoots have become the norm.Maya Moktan has not been able to celebrate the festival with her family in Sindhupalchok for eight years because she is a nurse in Dubai. She only gets a few weeks of leave which does not coincide with <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/top-dasain-destinations/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Dasain</a>. But she has made the best of this by connecting with her family on video calls.“I have now celebrated one too many Dasains virtually,” Moktan told us in a video chat from Dubai. “I miss my family even more during this time and call them every day.”While still in Nepal, she and her family used to travel from Bhaktapur where they had settled to their hometown in Sindhupalchok district every Dasain. This annual ritual has now shifted to the mobile platform. Read Also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/dasain-2022/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Dasain 2022</a>“My dad pretends to put tika on me on the mobile camera and I act as if I received it on my forehead,” adds Moktan.Badri Dhital is working in Japan and has not been home for five years. He could not make it this year either. The time difference with Nepal means most days he is often unable to catch his family online, but he made sure to mark the Dasain via a video call.“Thank god for technology. This is the only thing that helps lessen the pain of separation,” the 27-year-old told us in a phone interview.Virtual platforms have dramatically changed the way the Nepali diaspora marks Dasain. With more than 300,000 Nepalis leaving the country every year for work, study or to settle abroad, there is now an increasing trend of digital Dasain.  An estimated 5 million Nepalis are in India or overseas, which is nearly 15% of the population. This year, 1.5 million people left Kathmandu for their hometowns during Dasain, many could not find bus or airline tickets in time. And this year heavy rains disrupted festival travel.Even for families living in Nepal, digital Dasain has become an option in case they cannot make it home. Many share Dasain photos on Facebook or social media platform group chats. As the number of TikTok users among Nepalis exceeds 50% and is catching up with Facebook, more and more Dasain videos are shared on that platform.But while online platforms have made Dasain easy for families to spread far and wide, there are concerns that they are eroding the unique culture and heritage tied with the festival. For example, there has been a dramatic drop in traditional kite flying or playing in the swing during the festival week.There are also fewer local Dasain carnivals which used to help in face-to-face social integration. But Nepalis do not have to wait Dasain anymore to take part in shopping — just about everything can be bought online, from food to clothes. What used to be carnivals are now Dasain schemes offered by brands and companies.“As we embrace technology, we have stopped meeting relatives and celebrating festivals in their true spirit. Our children want to do even less of that,” says Dipesh Ghimire, a professor at Tribhuvan University, adding that the trend is now equally prevalent in rural areas.He adds: “In fact, technology have made everything so accessible and cheap so that Dasain is no longer necessary for some people who are connected all the time with their relatives anyway.”Dasain celebrations of the past represented the society of yesteryear. If it is celebrated the same way today, it cannot reflect the understanding of people today, their consciousness and the world at large, adds Ghimire.Another culture expert Govind Tandon says digital platforms have made Dasain more accessible and significant without adding financial burden to families away from home. Digital Dasain has also lessened the craze of dakshina, the cash token given to younger relatives, for whom the pocket money is an added attraction of the festival. But even dakshina is going digital. Banks and digital wallets now offer schemes at Dasain. Last year, e-Sewa provided gifts worth Rs500 to 500 people who made transactions under their 'Dasain Digital Dakshina Abhiyan'.The campaign was so successful the developers extended it until Tihar and some 30,000 people used the platform amounting to transactions worth Rs70 million. Says Ashish Gautam of E-Sewa: “Digital Dakshina has made Dasain technology-friendly while also reducing the burden of printing new notes.”Now banks and digital micropayment platforms, as well as brothers and sisters, are gearing up for virtual Tihar which this year falls on 24-27 October.Translated from the <a href="https://www.himalkhabar.com/news/132446?fbclid=IwAR01IqRld3ZMnuDvn2BmJHGi0TOlnVNHhQzNB2XqIG-W1MbooU_58wTdSGQ">Nepali original</a> published in Himalkhabar monthly magazine.

Digital Diaspora Dasain for Nepalis

<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101124/637209fe9c7e80680e0b5576jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="960" height="720"/>As a truck driver in Saudi Arabia, I am always on the move. That’s how it has been since 2011.Jeddah is almost 1,500km from Jubail, where I live. Places en route like Riyadh only allow trucks at certain hours of the day, so we take stops in between and wait. Including sleeping breaks, it takes us almost 36 hours one way to reach our destination.The road goes on and on and on. You feel like you have been driving forever, only to realise there is still 1,000km of asphalt left.It tests your patience. Fortunately, there are other Nepali drivers on the road.  The dreary driving is mutual so we keep each other company on the phone throughout our journey. When my phone is quiet for a bit, I get a call from a fellow long hauler who reminds me to stay awake. Then he tells me a joke.This is the camaraderie I share with my fellow gurus. Yes, just like back home in Nepal, we call drivers ‘guru’ here in the desert, too.In Nepal, trucks have funny or inspirational messages painted on their back. It is not allowed here. But some of us have managed to just write ‘Nepal’ on our trucks.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/in-the-minds-of-nepals-migrant-workers/">In the mind of Nepali migrant workers</a>, Upasana KhadkaDuring food stops, we pool our resources and cook together in our tiny makeshift kitchen in the truck. It is more fun and easier that way, but also saves us money. Of course, we always opt for dal, bhat and chicken curry.After doing this for 10 years, I have never got tired of the magical way the sand dunes on either side of the highway change their colours and textures. These are shades of reds and browns that I have never seen before.We get to the point from where there is another 600km more to go, and that is when I start feeling more upbeat. As we get closer to our destination, our mood starts to shift. By the time we have less than 50km left, we start honking at each other in celebration and there is a huge sense of relief and accomplishment even though we may have done the route many times.My first few trips were exciting. I had places to be, things to deliver. But it soon started feeling monotonous. Day turns into night, and into day again,  and you are driving along in that endless ribbon of road.Of late, I have started opting for shorter routes which are quicker and also better for my health. Now that I have worked in the company for many years, I have a say on my route preferences.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101124/63720a009c7e80680e0b5577jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="858" height="643">It is easy to get lost in thought on the road here in the Saudi desert. I ran away from my home at age 11 to India to be a domestic worker, taking care of my employer’s children who were older than me. Life has not been easy.Before driving these humongous trucks, I worked as an auto-rickshaw driver and then a personal driver in India for a pittance. My license in India was fake, since I was only 15. I shaved my chin so that my facial hair would grow, but it did not. When I was questioned about my youthful looks, I blamed my Nepali genes. The sahu employer bought it. Or maybe they just wanted someone sojho he could trust to work for cheap.The first time I came to Saudi Arabia after paying Rs70,000 to a manpower company, I <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/long-and-winding-road-home-to-nepal/">landed a terrible employer</a> and returned to Nepal prematurely after getting sick. But I knew I had to go overseas again -- what other option did I have?With my second child on the way, I was so desperate when I came to Saudi Arabia the second time that I thought to myself: “Even if things do not go any better and I die there, it will still be better for my family because they will at least get around15 lakhs from the Foreign Employment Board and insurance as compensation.”Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/migrant-worker-finds-farming-in-nepal-more-rewarding/">Migrant worker finds farming in Nepal more rewarding</a>, Naresh NewarThis time, though, I landed a good employer and have not looked back since. This coincided with my daughter’s birth -- and as they say, with her arrival so did Laxmi enter our house.Even with a good job, I again started feeling ill in Saudi Arabia just like I had the first time. I was always drowsy and weak, and it was difficult to muster the strength to even get through the day driving the truck.One of my Indian colleagues noticed this, told me, “For the next two weeks, drink four to six liters of water a day.” I did that and immediately started feeling better. It was a miracle, and something as simple as drinking lots of water. I did not know that I was severely dehydrated.My life could have taken a completely different turn had it not been for this small piece of advice from a colleague. I remember him with gratitude.I share my room with three other Nepalis. But even in the cramped space, we have managed to create our own individual corners. Our work and sleep schedules do not always match. But even when we are in the same room, we are all glued to our phones most of the time speaking to family, or reading news from Nepal.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101124/63720a039c7e80680e0b5578jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="902" height="676">Even though I have lived in Saudi Arabia for over a decade now, I have barely had any interaction with local people other than people at the airport. Just like in India, my supervisors in Saudi Arabia have all been Indians. My colleagues are either Nepalis or ajnabi foreigners. I speak mostly Hindi and Nepali, although I have picked up some basic Arabic.I think domestic workers here are the ones who learn to speak Arabic fastest since since they live with locals families and deal directly with them on a daily basis.Unlike <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/the-long-wait-before-flight/">many Nepalis</a>, my colleagues and I were lucky during Covid-19, as we had work. We continued to deliver goods from the port to nearby markets. Everything was shut down and the no-entry rules during certain hours in cities meant the roads were empty. We drove like kings.But soon, I tested positive. Again, unlike <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepali-migrants-again-caught-up-in-2nd-wave/">many Nepalis who even lost their lives in Saudi Arabia</a> during the pandemic, I was well taken care of. But when I was in isolation, my mother passed away in Nepal to a non-Covid related cause.I was trapped as I was Covid positive, but also because of the travel bans that had shut out the world. I mourned the loss of my mother in isolation. It was also painful that neither my brother nor me, both of us migrants in the Gulf, could be there for her final rites.Read also:  <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/his-last-journey-home-to-nepal/">His last journey home to Nepal</a>, Shankar DahalWe had made enough money to take care of her long-term illness that may have even extended her life by a few years. But we had failed to be there with her in the last moments. An uncle performed the funeral on our behalf.Perhaps it is that experience or because I recently turned 36 that during my dreary journeys on the road, that I have started longing for home more intensely. I want to spend time with my family now, it has been too long and my children are all grown up.How many more times must I call my wife to confirm that I have sent her money for that month's expenses, and that she should spend it wisely? Hemanta Rana captured it very well when he sang “चालिस काटेसी रमाउँला”. I am now nearing age 40 that he sings about, when we can start taking things easy after years of toil.My friends tell me there are better opportunities in places like Portugal for drivers like me, and I am tempted. But just for a moment. But I quickly decide against it. I want to be back home in Nepal soon, and make up for the time I have lost to be close to my family.Till then, म खाडीमै छु, म गाडी मै छु. Here I am still in the Gulf, still in my truck.   Translated from a conversation with a Nepali driver in Saudi Arabia. Diaspora Diaries is a regular column in Nepali Times providing a platform for Nepalis to share their experiences of living, working, studying abroad. Authentic and original entries can be sent to editors@nepalitimes.com with 'Diaspora Diaries' in the subject line.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/mindful-of-migrants-mental-health/">Mindful of migrants' mental health</a>, Upasana Khadka

Diaspora Diaries 3

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101120/637208829c7e80680e0b54edjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1656" height="1142"/><figcaption>Hom Nath Giri at his desk in a company in Kuwait City. PHOTO: Hom Nath Giri</figcaption></figure>I am not sure where to start telling you the story of the journey of my life.I come from a very simple family. My father’s job as a court messenger was to deliver legal letters and messages. His salary was not enough to support our family, so in 1994 he went to Saudi Arabia where he found a job as a gardener, working outdoor in the desert heat.We communicated in letters and if we did not hear from him for over two months, my mother would start crying. The letters my siblings and I wrote to him were formal, in a style they taught us in school. They all started with ‘Sri Pujaniya Baba, Shastang Dandawat’ (Respected father, I bow to you).In all his letters over the years, my father reminded us to do well in school. One of them said:“If I had studied, I would not have had to work here as a gardener. Even in Saudi Arabia, I would have got a much better job. I would have had opportunities for promotion. But there are no promotions for gardeners like me. This is why it is important that you study. I am working here to enable you to study hard.”When my father turned 50, I decided it was time to bring him back from Saudi Arabia. He had worked very hard for ten years, and it was my turn to step up.My father came back, passed on the foreign employment baton to me. In 2004, I left for Kuwait to work as a security guard. The heat was oppressive and the work was not easy. Over a dozen of my colleagues went back to Nepal one by one, either because they were caught sleeping during duty hours and got laid off, or because they just could not bear the heat.I stayed on, determined to keep working no matter how difficult it got. I was promoted many times in the past 17 years from Shift Supervisor to Patrolling Supervisor to Operation Supervisor. Then I became the Assistant Operation Manager, Operation Manager and I am now the Assistant Managing Director.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101120/637208859c7e80680e0b54eejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1870" height="1226"><figcaption>Giri with his father and mother when they visited him in Kuwait in 2018. His father toiled as a gardener in Saudi Arabia to support his family, he died a year after this picture was taken.</figcaption></figure>I grew up delivering newspapers around Pokhara starting at 3AM on a rusty, donated bike for Rs1,000 Rupees a month. I used to be  drenched in sweat and dizzy during my 12 hour shifts as a security guard when I first arrived in Kuwait.The odds were stacked against me. I would have laughed if someone had told me I would have the position I am holding today. But it wasn’t my education that helped me rise up the ranks. Little things like my English skills, integrity and work ethics did.Foreign employment worked for me. It gave me a platform. When we aspire to go overseas, we go after manpower agents. We plead with them to connect us with jobs, we call or message them desperately. But the minute we get on the plane, we start scolding them.If I met the manpower company owner who sent me to Kuwait, I would actually thank him. My success has meant that I have been able to lift my family back in Nepal out of poverty.I have brought my brother-in-law and his son also to Kuwait for jobs. I have connected people from my village to well-paying work here. My financial strength has spillover effects on those associated with me.Read also: <a style="font-size: medium; font-weight: 600; letter-spacing: normal; background-color: #ffffff;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/in-the-minds-of-nepals-migrant-workers/">In the mind of Nepali migrant workers</a>, Upasana KhadkaWas it the Nepal government that helped me? No. It was the recruitment agency that gave me this opportunity. They get all the blame, but never the credit for success stories like mine.Of course, they deserve to be punished when they cheat workers, especially when they promise the wrong job or pay. But it is also true that they have done more for many than what the government ever did.My father’s experience in Saudi Arabia ensured that our family had enough to eat and our basic needs were met, even though we had no savings. My Kuwait experience elevated my family even more. All because of foreign employment.Luck was on my side, I realise that. There are many like me who have done well. But I must say that a large majority of Nepalis come here and leave without making much progress in their salaries or positions.Hard work is key. So is having a vision and proper planning so you have specific goals to strive towards. Many of us do not get that kind of guidance so we do not know how to make use of available opportunities.Soft skills like computers and English proficiency are critical to make use of available opportunities of which there are plenty but not well exploited by Nepalis. How do we inculcate that drive to keep learning and bettering ourselves so we are given opportunities to rise?Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/the-year-of-migrant-workers/">The year of migrant workers</a>, EditorialI started as a security guard but I relied on people around me to help me learn how to use a computer. I still remember shouting with joy when I typed a paragraph in a Word document and my colleague got it printed.I have started getting comfortable with this lifestyle. After being stuck in Nepal for 8 months during the Covid-19 pandemic, I have changed my mind about returning anytime soon. I explored opportunities in the hotel and restaurant line back home but was unable to muster the courage to make an investment and start something on my own.For me, foreign employment is a secure option. I have seen many friends who returned to Nepal for good, used up all their savings in some unsuccessful venture and came right back to Kuwait. After so many years away, we do not have the network, contextual knowledge or the ability to deal with the corruption that defines every aspect of life in Nepal. The idea that honest work can help us succeed in Nepal feels a bit far-fetched at the moment.Of course you miss the little things like taking your children to school or playing with them. But having experienced both being the son of a migrant as well as a migrant father,  I can say the situation is much better now for transnational parenting.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101120/637208889c7e80680e0b54efjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1772" height="1280"><figcaption>Giri with his son when his family visited him before the pandemic. PHOTO: HOM NATH GIRI</figcaption></figure>When I was a boy, the postman used to come every Thursday as we waited for our father’s letters. Sometimes the letters would be stuck somewhere and we would receive all six on the same day after six months of radio silence and panic. Now I see my children every few months in person and talk to them every day.Despite being away from Nepal, I feel like I can contribute more from here than if I were back home. Whether during earthquake or Covid-19, we have sent a lot of support to Nepal including oxygen cylinders.There are many Nepalis who require help in the Gulf region, and I find myself spending a good chunk of my salary and time every month helping them. I am lucky that I can do that. I often get sentimental when I go back to my apartment after dealing with people who need help. I write poetry to get the weight off my chest.What was most distressing was having to walk out of Kathmandu airport once behind men who were pushing two coffins in luggage trolleys. The bodies had been repatriated in the same flight as mine. Later, I composed these lines:घर गाउँमा रुवाबासि पिर पठाएछ,सम्झनालाई अन्तिम चिनो तस्विर पठाएछ॥खुशि बोकी घर फिर्छु भन्थ्यो परदेशीले,कठै! आज बाकसभित्र शरिर पठाएछ॥He said he would come home and bring joy,But he brought back tears and grief.He sent a photograph as a parting gift.Alas! He sent his own body home in a box.That, too, is foreign employment.One of my favourite memories is when I brought my father to Kuwait in 2018. He came to my office and sat with pride behind my desk. He told me all those years of toil in Saudi Arabia had been well worth it.What I have achieved in my life is in large part due to the motivating letters our father wrote to us from Saudi Arabia. He sacrificed his life for us. We lost him last year, and I miss him every day.Translated from a conversation with Hom Nath Giri in Kuwait. Diaspora Diaries is a regular column in Nepali Times providing a platform for Nepalis to share their experiences of living, working, studying abroad. Authentic and original entries can be sent to <a href="mailto:editors@nepalitimes.com" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">editors@nepalitimes.com</a> with Diaspora Diaries in the subject line.  Read more:<a style="font-size: medium; letter-spacing: normal; background-color: #ffffff; font-weight: 600;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/diaspora-diaries-1/">Diaspora Diaries 1</a>, Nepali Times<a style="font-size: medium; letter-spacing: normal; background-color: #ffffff; font-weight: 600;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/the-days-of-international-migration/">The Days of International Migration</a>, Editorial

Diaspora Diaries  2

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410114/6372051a9c7e80680e0b289ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1883" height="1194"/><figcaption>Photo: PATTABI RAMAN</figcaption></figure>In this new fortnightly column, Diaspora Diaries, Nepali Times provides a platform for Nepalis to share their experiences of living, working, studying abroad. Authentic and original entries can be sent to <a href="mailto:editors@nepalitimes.com" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">editors@nepalitimes.com</a> with Diaspora Diaries in the subject line. It has not even been three months since I said my goodbyes to my family, but I am already back in Nepal from <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/human-rights-referees-blow-whistle-on-world-cup-fouls/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Qatar</a>.I was promised a job in housekeeping in a five star hotel, but ended up in a construction site where they wanted me to carry around heavy stuff all day. I paid over Rs100,000 for this job, including with loans and selling my sisters’ jewelry. But it was not what I signed up for.Even then, I had no choice but to accept my fate. But after a month of physical labour, I fell ill and realised I was not cut out for this work. My company never once asked about my <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/in-the-minds-of-nepals-migrant-workers/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">health</a> while I was in hospital, or recovering in my room.I wanted to come home, but my employer was unwilling to let me go, and ultimately I had to escape without letting them know. Employers have been known to file cases falsely accusing people like me of stealing so workers cannot leave the country.I only made it out because I had the support of some helpful Nepali brothers in <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/the-days-of-international-migration/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Qatar</a>. Not the embassy. Not the employer. Not the recruiter. Just some Nepalis with big hearts.They were generous with their advice about what to do, and provided me with taxi fare.  They pitched in for my ticket. They called me to remind me to keep my spirits high. Even now, in Kathmandu, my stay at this hotel has been financed by a fellow Nepali in Qatar.In a foreign land, just being Nepali bonds people together and people go out of their way to help strangers — it is an inexplicable kind of brotherhood that I will never be able to forget, or repay.Despite my bad luck, I have been lucky in many other ways. I am young, I sought help and help came spontaneously from many people. But I know it for a fact that there are many like me who have it even worse, are <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepali-migration-in-the-2020s/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">suffering silently, and struggling</a>.It is not bad for everyone. I know other Nepalis who have been in Qatar for years, and are happy with their jobs. It is like a lottery, and I was dealt a bad hand this time. The company I was posted in happened to be the worst of the lot.I have been lucky previously. I worked in <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/disproportionate-number-of-deaths-of-Nepali-workers-in-Malaysia,2812" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Malaysia</a> in a hotel for three years starting 2011, and earned $480 a month, which at the time was a huge amount for me. After returning, I worked in a hotel in Nepal. But I needed to earn more, and that would only happen if I found a job overseas again. I chose the Gulf this time, but was unlucky.As I sat in my room alone in Qatar when I was recovering and my roommates were at work, I used to reflect on many things, as I had so much time in my hand. You leave home for a few extra thousand rupees to a foreign land, but what all do you lose in the process?<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410114/6372051d9c7e80680e0b289bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="459">My work in Qatar required me to get up at 4AM for the bus that came to pick us up. We packed food that we cooked the previous night, but sometimes it went bad because there was no fridge at the construction site. You also cannot eat when you feel hungry, you can only eat when you are told to eat.I even had to ask my supervisor to go to the toilet at the construction site. Our work would end at around 6PM, but by the time we reached our camp, it would be 8PM. We would then have to cook dinner and our meal for the next day. By the time we were done and ready to wind down, it would be past midnight only to wake up at four the next day.It went on and on like this. We were moved three times in the short period I was there. You don’t have a say in any of this, you just do as told to do as they say.I remember looking at fancy buildings in the past and wishing I could work in those. But it took me a terrible overseas experience in Qatar to realize that it is the people inside those buildings that matter. A Nepali in what they call a wakala (small shop) was much happier than me.When I was recovering alone in my room desperate to come home, I told myself I would never consider migrating overseas again. That I would do something in Nepal itself. I cannot explain the rush I felt when I finally held my boarding card in my hand at Doha airport. It was a well-planned escape that could have gone terribly wrong.But reality hit soon after I came to Nepal. <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/workers-return-to-jobless-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Where are the jobs?</a> What will I do here? What will I earn? I have to feed my family, and have loans to repay. You make a lot of sacrifices for a job abroad — even your dignity at times. But we also need those jobs.I am sharing my story so others can learn about my experience. I prefer to remain anonymous. Besides my wife, no one in my family knows about what I faced abroad. I was in so much pain and stress, what is the point getting my ailing mother all worried?I am beginning a battle with my <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/a-few-good-agents/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">recruiter</a> to get back my money, and he has shown some willingness to cooperate. I might eventually have to go back overseas one day, and coming public with my story may hurt my chances since I will be viewed as a ‘troublemaker’.A fellow Nepali in Qatar who had not been paid for months was transferred and accused of being a ‘ring leader’ among camp workers — just because he asked the manager for overdue food allowance.That is our reality. They want the quiet ones. The ones who can be silenced.Translated from a conversation in Nepali.

Diaspora Diaries 1

<figure><img width="2342" height="1300" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181120/636be14f9c7e80680e083e3fjpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Countries with the highest numbers of Covid-19 cases, with ones where total cases rose last week (in red) and fell (in blue). Data: Johns Hopkins University</figcaption></figure>A second wave of Covid-19 cases in Europe and the explosive spread in the United States has raised the number of deaths from the pandemic in the Nepali diaspora, but experts say the toll may be higher than officially reported.
The Non-Resident Nepalese Association (NRNA) which keeps track of the impact of the pandemic among Nepalis living outside the country says new cases and fatalities have been reported in the past two weeks from United Kingdom, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-its-no-time-to-let-your-guard-down/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-its-no-time-to-let-your-guard-down/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1605582652845000&amp;usg=AFQjCNGGUewmszI26gfH8FVNzxRXYetJUA">the Untied States</a>, Spain, Austria, the Netherlands, Denmark, the Czech Republic, Germany, India, UAE, Qatar and Saudi Arabia.
The estimated total number of Nepalis abroad who tested positive for the virus crossed 46,000 on 14 November, with 293 deaths in countries from where figures were available, NRNA said. Nepalis have tested positive in 44 countries around the world, and fatalities have been reported from 18 of them.
More than 1,000 new cases were confirmed in the past two weeks, and eight more deaths of Nepalis were reported from India alone in the past week in Chennai and Maharastra states. The largest number of new cases has been reported from Romania, where 550 have tested positive in the past two weeks taking the total infected Nepalis to 9,714. Two of them are said to be in a critical state in hospital.
There are no exact figures for the numbers of Nepali migrant workers in Romania, but 4,325 arrived in 2019 alone, and reports say Nepalis form the largest number of people applying for work permits in 2020. Most had jobs in the hotel and restaurant business which have been hit hard by the Covid-19 crisis. One report said all 22 Nepalis working in an auto company in Bucharest had tested positive.
Of the Nepalis abroad who were infected, the Association said more than 41,000 had recovered — possibly indicating that most of them were younger Nepali immigrants in Europe and the Gulf region. However, the death rate is higher in the UK, where there is a large population of elderly Nepali Gurkha pensioners and their families, as well as the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/bhutan-refugee-to-coronavirus-care-giver/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/bhutan-refugee-to-coronavirus-care-giver/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1605582652845000&amp;usg=AFQjCNFO0eeE7nBEdNXf2caLanSPergQ6Q">United States</a>.
Many Nepalis in countries like the UK, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/himalayan-new-yorkers-tell-stories-of-covid-19/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/himalayan-new-yorkers-tell-stories-of-covid-19/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1605582652845000&amp;usg=AFQjCNED7YXzDUecpSHZ22qaLSzxnl4XnQ">US</a> and Israel are also <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/overseas-nepalis-on-the-covid-19-frontlines/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/overseas-nepalis-on-the-covid-19-frontlines/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1605582652846000&amp;usg=AFQjCNGsbjaQRwTJZuwsyoYH8EL2TSa5kg">at the frontlines </a>as caregivers or medical personnel, or work in jobs which require public interaction, and where they are at high risk.
“Nepalis abroad should take care during family gatherings, they should keep a distance and wear masks at all times,” says NRNA’s Health Committee coordinator, Sanjeeb Sapkota. 
Meanwhile in Nepal, the number of infected crossed 200,000 last week, even though the recovery rate is at 82% and 169,000 people are not infected any more. The total fatalities in Nepal increased by 6 on Sunday to reach 1,202.
Of the new infections, 807 were in Kathmandu Valley, and Saturday saw 1,477 testing positive. The numbers are slightly slower than the daily average for the past two weeks because testing clinics were closed for the Tihar holidays over the weekend.
Among those hospitalised with Covid-19 is Govinda KC, the activist surgeon who has for the past four years staged 19 hunger strikes demanding that the government reform medical education and make health care more accessible and affordable. Ironically, KC has been admitted to Teaching Hospital, where he has been treated in ICU in a critical state during his fasts.
The total number of active cases in Kathmandu is now 15,237, Bhaktapur has 1,252 and Lalitpur 2,315. Most are in home isolation, either because they have mild symptoms, because there are not enough beds in hospitals in the Valley, or because they cannot afford being admitted. 
On Sunday, 1,477 new cases were detected out of 6,476 PCR tests carried out, while 2,798 have made recoveries.

Nepali diaspora hit by Covid surge

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101116/636b70129c7e80680e06005bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="998"/><figcaption>Photo : GOPAL GADTAULA</figcaption></figure>Manoj Rai was a 17-year-old student in a school in Tashigang, Bhutan in 1990, when soldiers arrived at his dorm and took away all the Nepali books. They piled them high in the courtyard, and set them alight.A few days later, the boy decided to escape the army’s dragnet and without even returning home he went down to the border, where the Indian security forces were packing other Bhutanese like him into trucks and dumping them in eastern Nepal.Thousands of refugees from Bhutan lived under plastic sheets by the side of the Kankai River in Jhapa. Many fainted from trauma, culture shock and homesickness. On a single day, Manoj Rai remembers cremating 28 children who had died of epidemics.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/who-stands-with-bhutanese-refugees-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Who stands with Bhutanese refugees in Nepal?,</a> Bhuwan Gautam and T P Mishra“We refugees know very well the meaning of life,” Rai said with a faraway look in his eyes, at his home in Charlotte, North Carolina. He is among the nearly 95,000 refugees from Bhutan who have been resettled in the United States. Others have gone to New Zealand, Norway, UK, Australia, the Netherlands and Canada.Rai opted for resettlement after seeing no possibility of returning to Bhutan, and tried to convince as many of his compatriots as possible to take up the offer. Some were resolutely refusing to move, but he tried to convince them that being a citizen of a foreign country, rather than a refugee, could help them return to Bhutan one day. Many third-generation Bhutanese are now studying in the world’s top universities.Rai has always been interested in music, often taking his small band house-to-house during Dasain and Tihar in Nepal, performing songs of longing for home in Bhutan. Villagers used to give them rice, gundruk and vegetables, which the refugees cooked in the camps by the dusty river banks.“We were always hungry, but we had to eat to live. And music was a way to feed ourselves,” Manoj recalls. “And now, on the other side of the world from home, we are trying to preserve our culture.”Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Bhutanese-refugees-resettlement-program-ending-in-2018,4121" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The end of the road for Bhutan's refugees</a>,Jenna Kunze Soon, relief organisations like World Lutheran Foundation, Save the Children, the UN High Commission for Refugees and others came to the rescue of the refugees, settling them in seven camps<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101116/636b70159c7e80680e06005cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1050" height="738">in Jhapa and Morang, where 120,000 Bhutanese lived for more than 20 years, until resettlement.“We were floating like kites. We missed home, and slept in jute sacks on the sand,” remembers Manoj, who could not even go back to Bhutan when his mother died there. “That is my biggest regret -- that I was not there for my mother. There are many Bhutanese like me.”Manoj came to the US 8 years ago and recorded over 70 songs since then. He has also founded the charity Love and Sports, which supports Nepali art, culture and music with an annual gathering in which the best are honoured with awards.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/family-separation-bhutan-style/">Family separation, Bhutan-style</a>, Jamie PiotrowskiMany of Manoj’s Nepali songs are about Bhutan. The translated lyrics of one of them:‘In the lap of the Himalaya is our dear BhutanWe blossom as we live together as oneDon’t cry, mother, we will make you smileWe will decorate our motherland with flowers.’

Ex-refugee takes refuge in music

Many of us former Nepal Peace Corps volunteers (PCVs) would agree that our time in Nepal changed in significant but very different ways our perspectives on life if not the future paths we chose to follow. Of no one was this truer than Dorothy Mierow. Dorothy was born in 1920, in Colorado Springs. Her father Charles C Mierow was a classics scholar and Latin professor, who served for ten years as president of Colorado College.&nbsp; Dorothy developed an interest in animals as a child, graduated with a BA degree in natural history from Carlton College in 1942, a Master’s in biology from the University of Pittsburgh, and another Master’s in geography from the University of Minnesota.&nbsp; As a young woman, Dorothy traveled with her father throughout Europe, including a visit to ancient Greek ruins, and took a Magellan Tour by cruise ship around the world in 1958.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025071901074_0bad133ab22aada319e74bbad95d563e191371db291c08f373839fbd15440262.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2025071901074_0bad133ab22aada319e74bbad95d563e191371db291c08f373839fbd15440262" data-rendition-name="original" width="903" height="1178" loading="lazy" alt="How the Peace Corps changed a volunteer's life"> <figcaption>HOME AWAY FROM HOME: Dorothy Mierow as a college student in her native Colorado.</figcaption> </figure>  She was a college teacher during much of the 1940s, also teaching at a girls’ school in Hawaii. Then back to her native Colorado in 1953, where she became a curator and later director of the Colorado College Natural History Museum. She taught geography classes, and in her free time, Dorothy climbed 22 of Colorado’s 14,000-foot peaks. Traveling in India in 1960, Dorothy decided to spend two weeks in Nepal. In late 1961, she filled out an application to join the Peace Corps and specified that she wanted to go to Nepal, ‘because I admired the people so much when my father and I were there on our trip’.&nbsp; Dorothy reached Kathmandu in September 1962 as the first group of American Peace Corps volunteers in Nepal. She stood out from the others: one of the few women in that group, surely the oldest at age 41, a world traveler, and a woman who already had established a professional career.&nbsp; One doubts if Dorothy had had a husband and children whether she would ever have gone to work and spend much of the rest of her life in Nepal.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025071901078_68e84ade1ffb0f6c83c7f8fa5c1e7315b5f6c543217f96cde012e4d86f171515.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2025071901078_68e84ade1ffb0f6c83c7f8fa5c1e7315b5f6c543217f96cde012e4d86f171515" data-rendition-name="original" width="1259" height="910" loading="lazy" alt="How th Peace Corps changed a volunteer's life NT"> <figcaption>Pokhara Bazar in 1962.</figcaption> </figure>  The Peace Corps assigned Dorothy to teach geography at Tri-Chandra College. After the school closed in the winter due to lack of heating, USAID and the College of Education asked Dorothy to help train general science teachers.&nbsp; She taught for two months and became involved in a textbook-writing project, commenting: ‘I would like the children to know something about public health, conservation (the trees are going fast and so is the soil), and learn the names of some of their common birds, trees, and flowers. They are more impressed with electricity, airplanes, and cell structure.’ When a new college opened in Pokhara in 1963, Dorothy was transferred there and lived with a Nepali family. The college boasted 30 students and no permanent buildings.&nbsp; In October 1963, Dorothy wrote: ‘Pokhara is a town of almost 5,000 people … We are in a fertile valley surrounded by foothills … There is a small Mission Hospital … a Leper Hospital and Tibetan Refugee Camp started by the Red Cross and now run by the Swiss. With winter approaching, more Tibetans are appearing in town, often with pack horses or donkeys. Some have been carrying large boxes of powdered milk,donated (by USAID) to the camp from the airport … There is no electricity, and the transportation problems make many items scarce and expensive. I am really a sort of a museum. The landlord brings all kinds of people in to see how I live and count my shoes and dresses. They express amazement at my books, pictures, tin oven, Nepali dolls from Kathmandu, screened food shelves and curtained closet.’ The standard term for Peace Corps volunteers was two years, but Dorothy extended her term and was still at Prithvi Narayan College at the end of 1965, when she wrote that she had 20 Geography students in the first-year class and 6 in the second year preparing for the IA Examination. The college enrollment was 125 students, and the foundation for a new science building was being excavated.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025071901074_c6a80e5e0db0c705b2f8733c6d30dc0386fe3abbd2238ea9d947b7d746f94a29.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2025071901074_c6a80e5e0db0c705b2f8733c6d30dc0386fe3abbd2238ea9d947b7d746f94a29" data-rendition-name="original" width="902" height="605" loading="lazy" alt="How the Peace Corps changed a volunteer's life"> <figcaption>Mierow and friends at Phewa Lake.</figcaption> </figure>  Dorothy noted that she ate one meal a day at the (Shining Mission) Hospital but otherwise lived on dal-bhat, momo, and potato curry at local shops. However, she had developed a new passion: to build what she initially called the Pokhara Museum of the Himalaya. In commendable Peace Corps fashion, Dorothy always worked with Nepalis and respected the culture. ‘The greatest joy and satisfaction I have had has been from the building of a Museum-Library in memory of my parents … It has been possible to feel like a wealthy benefactor with the money saved by father for the family’s education and now available for the education of others… (Father) would have loved to be in on the founding of a new college and be able to plan a library. Several hundred of the books to be in the museum-library came from his collection and were carefully selected to be of use for students in Nepal…’&nbsp; ‘The museum part is to satisfy my own inclinations and was thought of when I found how little diversion there was for the people of Pokhara… It is part of the University requirements for the college that it should have a geography and biology museum. The museum building is small but adequate.&nbsp; I have tried to design it in harmony with Nepalese architecture and decorate it with some of the art of the best artists or woodcarvers… Posts holding up the porch roof are carved by Cottage Industries to represent different peoples of Nepal in typical costumes. The door was carved by a local wood carver and has typical birds of Nepal around it. Inside are 10 roof-support carvings designed by the retired Director of the National Museum in Kathmandu, Mr. C.M. Maskey.&nbsp; They were carved by the best wood carvers in Patan very skilfully. The building has three rooms: the library, the exhibition room, and a smaller workroom which can be used by our newly formed Woman’s Club as well as other groups or classes.’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025071901074_03d3359c65389d30a0134e9a4862778994121e7e833b7d28b18e06e36fc76ff8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2025071901074_03d3359c65389d30a0134e9a4862778994121e7e833b7d28b18e06e36fc76ff8" data-rendition-name="original" width="629" height="599" loading="lazy" alt="How the Peace Corps changed a volunteer's life"> <figcaption>Mierow with local women in Pokhara in 1969.</figcaption> </figure>  Dorothy promoted her project to influential Nepalis connected with organisations whose support she solicited: The Department of Archaeology, the Department of Agriculture, the Godavari Botanical Gardens; Tribhuvan University’s Science and Education Department, Nature Conservation Society.&nbsp; The museum was opened officially in early 1967. The Annapurna Natural History Museum, the building Dorothy designed and had constructed, is still open and features some exhibits which she created many years ago.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025071901074_54326a8a0685e980e782378076de2f5cd02d2426e9b0d94eed972d3dbe83af26.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2025071901074_54326a8a0685e980e782378076de2f5cd02d2426e9b0d94eed972d3dbe83af26" data-rendition-name="original" width="1333" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="How the Peace Corps changed a volunteer's life"> <figcaption>The Annapurna Natural History Museum.</figcaption> </figure>  Dorothy returned to America in 1967, but she longed for Nepal. In the spring of 1969, she again tried to enroll as a Peace Corps volunteer but was told that as she had spent more than four years, she would not be eligible for another assignment. Undeterred, she persuaded the college in Pokhara to invite her to return as a teacher.&nbsp; UNICEF and the Forestry Department sponsored Dorothy to prepare charts on trees, birds, animals and flowers in colour for distribution to the schools of Nepal. Dorothy, back in the Peace Corps, returned to Pokhara and the Museum in 1972. She formed a friendship with her former geography student from Sikles, Chandra Prasad Gurung, and in 1974, she brought Chandra to America, where he enrolled in Colorado College and studied cultural anthropology.&nbsp; Chandra subsequently earned his PhD in geography from the University of Hawaii and returned to Pokhara to become director of the Annapurna Conservation Area Project. Gurung actively promoted ecotourism, landscape conservation, and biodiversity conservation in Nepal. His life was cut short along with those of 23 other Nepalis and foreigners who perished in a helicopter crash near Taplejung in September 2006.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025071901074_322d3c3ac6f1b08ffa07c44a19998b937a7db9eb43527f7539cf6481e1546314.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2025071901074_322d3c3ac6f1b08ffa07c44a19998b937a7db9eb43527f7539cf6481e1546314" data-rendition-name="original" width="2500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="How the Peace Corps changed a volunteer's life"> <figcaption>Mierow's four books on Nepal and its biodiversity. </figcaption> </figure>  Dorothy worked with several well-known Nepalis to publish her paintings and photos in beautifully illustrated books. She and Hemanta Mishra of the National Parks and Wildlife Service wrote Wild Animals of Nepal (Ratna Pustak Bhandar, 1976). More than 400 photos Dorothy took on treks to the Everest region, Gosaikunda, Muktinath, Jumla and Rara Lake, as well as travels in the Tarai, appeared in Himalayan Flowers and Trees (Sahayogi Prakashan, 1978).&nbsp; The botanist Tirtha Bahadur Shrestha identified the species. Dorothy and Kesar Lall published This Beautiful Nepal (Sahayogi Press, 1981). Birds of the Central Himalayas (1988) contained Dorothy’s paintings of 250 species of birds found along the areas of the Kali Gandaki River, Pokhara, Chitwan and the central Tarai. Dorothy summed up her life and work in Nepal in Thirty Years in Pokhara (Pilgrims Book House, 1997). Dorothy returned to Pokhara and her adopted Gurung family several times during the 1980s and 1990s to celebrate festivals and meet old friends. Her final years were spent at her mountain cottage in Green Mountain Falls north of Colorado Springs. She died at the age of 79 in August, 2000. Nepal gave new meaning and purpose to Dorothy Mierow’s life. Daniel W Edwards was a Peace Corps volunteer in 1966 and is the author of several books on Nepal. The author thanks Special Collections, Tutt Library, Colorado College.

How the Peace Corps changed a volunteer’s life

· On the night of 15 May, two glacial lakes burst in Tharka in Humla and the debris flow washed away homes and bridges.&nbsp; · Last week, a slurry surge on the Kali Gandaki in Upper Mustang caused at least Rs15 million in damage, and was traced to a melting glacier. · Dozens are feared dead after <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/rasuwa-flood-likely-a-glof">an expanding glacial lake in Tibet overflowed</a>, sweeping down into Nepal and damaging four hydropower plants generating 230MW, nearly 8% of the country’s total grid supply.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250718060748_45225dc707c1e9c2968ca8dbf6e564e01e4eb6e2ff254fb8eb940cf62cdd910b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250718060748_45225dc707c1e9c2968ca8dbf6e564e01e4eb6e2ff254fb8eb940cf62cdd910b" data-rendition-name="original" width="2667" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Rasuwa flood"> <figcaption>Miteri friendship bridge connecting Nepal and China was swept away in the Rasuwa flood. Photo: PRAKASH CHANDRA TIMILSENA / NPL</figcaption> </figure>  And those are just in the past month. Climate scientists say Himalayan glacial lake outbursts are becoming more frequent and destructive, and a warning for Nepal not to put all its eggs in the hydropower basket.&nbsp; <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/when-it-rains-it-pours-ksqprbu3">Record precipitation last September</a> unleashed floods that killed 200 people, and temporarily slashed Nepal’s total generation capacity of 3,000MW by nearly half. The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-valley-suffers-quadruple-disaster">Melamchi flood of 2021</a> caused by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/the-not-so-permanent-frost">permafrost melting</a> on a glacier upstream nearly destroyed a $800 million water supply scheme, Nepal’s largest infrastructure project which four years later still has not resumed full operation. The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/sikkim-flood-is-warning-to-nepal">glacial lake overflow in Sikkim</a> caused by record rainfall in September 2023 that destroyed the $1.2 billion Chungthung Dam and caused catastrophic damage to infrastructure on the Teesta River. This was a warning to the cascade of hydropower plants on the Arun and Marsyangdi river basins.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250718060736_6f61797a6be308321e3bae26e55d2f64cba4b9e5eb262adacb9e92fb5f3c6152.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250718060736_6f61797a6be308321e3bae26e55d2f64cba4b9e5eb262adacb9e92fb5f3c6152" data-rendition-name="original" width="919" height="549" loading="lazy" alt="hydro disasters and hydropower plants"> </figure>  Nepal has set a target of generating an additional 28,500MW by 2035 -- out of the feasible 48,000MW -- but how viable is an energy strategy that is exposed to heightened risk due to climate breakdown? &nbsp; “As extreme weather events increase, we must design and build infrastructures respecting river flow and topography,” says former Energy Secretary Dwarika Nath Dhungel. “We must make the best use of our water resources, but not by letting excavators loose everywhere mining riverbeds and building haphazardly where we shouldn’t.”&nbsp; Although no project can be disaster-proof, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/climate-smarter-himalayan-infrastructure">climate smart design</a> can minimise damage from flash floods and landslides. Recent disasters have driven up insurance premiums for energy projects in Nepal, and smaller ones cannot even afford them. The 456MW Upper Tamakosi hydroelectric project which is still not fully functional after the September floods has claimed insurance worth Rs1.8 billion. The alternative to high risk high investment hydropower projects is <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/what-s-cooking-in-nepal-besides-politics">energy diversification</a> to other renewables such as solar, wind or biogas. Nepal gets annual sunlight of 300 days with 6-7 hours on average to total 50,000 terawatt-hours (TWh) per year.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250718060744_4acd452b4117180ca9bb5d3be839ff46dfd5464e4d507f5ad3704cef6253bc48.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20250718060744_4acd452b4117180ca9bb5d3be839ff46dfd5464e4d507f5ad3704cef6253bc48" data-rendition-name="original" width="1080" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="solar power"> <figcaption>Farmers in Tarai using solar powered water pump. Photo: GHAMPOWER</figcaption> </figure>  The Solar and Wind Energy Resource Assessment (SWERA) calculates that Nepal could source 3,000MW from wind energy alone, considering 10% of the area with more than 300W/m2 wind power density. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/people-power/decentralising-power-in-nepal">Solar energy</a> stations are cheaper and quicker to build, and would be an ideal alternative to reliance on hydropower.&nbsp; “There has been some investment in solar power, especially from the state sector,” says water expert Madhukar Upadhyay. “But there is an issue of land acquisition since the arrays need a lot of space. It is comparatively easier to get a permit to put up a hydropower plant on a river.” As for biogas, there is simply no incentive to build on past success with household level plants to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/more-bullshit">promote industrial-scale production</a>. Scaling up biogas by integrating it with urban biodegradable waste would still be a viable alternative to LPG.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250718060744_715d44afd5eb4ba8dafa209b0ad0f19400665797b5f078f5636821e600f96684.jpg" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20250718060744_715d44afd5eb4ba8dafa209b0ad0f19400665797b5f078f5636821e600f96684" data-rendition-name="original" width="1419" height="954" loading="lazy" alt="windmill"> <figcaption>A wind mill in Hapsikot in Nawalpur. Photo: WINPOWER NEPAL</figcaption> </figure>  Nepal’s public sphere is buzzing with excitement over the discovery of potentially 430 billion cubic metres of methane gas beneath Dailekh district that, if properly harnessed, would meet the country’s energy demand for the next 50 years. Even though a feasibility study is awaited, politicians from the prime minister down see this as a petro bonanza that will make Nepal rich. But drilling, storage and distribution of CNG in the country’s current kleptocratic state make that unlikely. If Nepal was to get rich solely on its hydro-energy potential, it could have done so in the past 50 years. Says Dhungel: “This is not exactly a new discovery, but it is premature to celebrate until its extraction is proven to be cost effective. And let us hope it does not get <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/balance-of-power">tangled in geopolitics</a>, since China is involved in the prospecting and drilling, which could make India uneasy.”&nbsp; The country suffers from the Dutch Disease curse even before its resource is fully exploited. And the same cronyism, corruption and rent-seeking structure cannot deliver the riches we expect from Dailekh’s methane discovery. Now, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/right-climate-for-nepal-s-energy-transition">with hydropower in jeopardy</a>, Nepal’s planners will have to evolve a new strategy for energy security into the future. But first, governance needs to be cleaned up with long-term strategic planning that takes climate risk into account. For example, do we need to mine fossil gas when there are renewable options? Will Dailekh take Nepal away from its climate commitments? Says Madhukar Upadhyay: “Nepal has always been resource rich and management poor. And the larger the resource, the bigger our management incapacity. It is a societal malaise.”&nbsp;

Nepal’s Resource Curse

चौतारा rest stops have long been an integral part of scenic touristic town of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/pokhara-six-decades-ago">Pokhara </a>but are now rarely seen as the city bursts at the seams. They say inhabitants of Pokhara saw a plane before they saw cars. Indeed, the grass airfield was built in the 1950s, while the Kathmandu highway 20 years later. Before roads, people walked to get around, pausing to rest or even nap under the shade of banyan-pipal trees. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/pokhara-s-desperation-and-hope">Pokhara airport’</a>s ‘terminal’ in those days was a shady chautara where passengers waited for their flights. The chautara bore silent witness to daily life, whether it was travellers seeking a brief respite from the summer heat or villagers gathering for a chat in the mornings and evenings. But with the roads came vehicles, and then houses started filling up spaces, even farmlands. Pokhara began transforming from a serene village to a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/pokhara-comes-alive-at-night">bustling city</a>.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250719010724_d101fa482441ce67afdf5bc4e4547b334e7662c1cf0a20e9d31a0e8dff66f04b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250719010724_d101fa482441ce67afdf5bc4e4547b334e7662c1cf0a20e9d31a0e8dff66f04b" data-rendition-name="original" width="2147" height="1581" loading="lazy" alt="Trees of life and living NT"> <figcaption>Photo: DURGA RANA MAGAR</figcaption> </figure>  The banyan-pipal trees were chopped down to make way for wider intersections and buildings. The once-iconic rest stops that carried Pokhara’s identity had all but vanished. “Building chautara was once considered a religious duty, which is why so many of them were constructed across Pokhara,” says archivist Sunil Ulak. <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=10927">Ekai Kawaguchi</a>, a Japanese Buddhist monk, who visited Nepal 120 years ago en route to Tibet, documented <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/no-visitors-in-pokhara-to-admire-view">the landscape of Pokhara</a> and its surroundings. In his book, Three Years in Tibet, he reflects on the natural beauty of the town and its shady trees. A chautara used to be surrounded by ponds, where shepherds would bring their cattle to drink from while they took a nap under the shade. The gentle rustling of leaves in the cool breeze lent a soothing melody as did the chirping of birds, while the insects took refuge in the branches and leaves. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/pokhara-800-years-ago">Pokhara 800 years ago</a>, Kunda Dixit This ‘nature’s breeze’, as botanist Kalyan Panta puts it, is now history due to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/cost-of-living-in-a-big-city">haphazard urbanisation</a>. “When the wind strikes against one leaf, it creates a domino effect and other leaves start waving as well,” he explains. There were 632 chautara in the city until 1977, and by 2000 the number had fallen to 278. But in some wards the number of trees fell from 55 in 1984 to only five now.&nbsp; The gradual loss of these resting places has meant habitat <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/between-existence-and-extinction-in-nepal">destruction of birds and insects</a>, it has also damaged the environment and natural beauty of the city.&nbsp; Researcher Jagannath Adhikari’s study showed that infrastructure projects ignored the environment, and concluded that that urbanisation in Pokhara was unsustainable.&nbsp; The destruction continues to this day. Recently, old chaurata in wards 6, 13 and 14 were cleared to make way for a sacrificial ritual. In fact, ward 6 got a permit from the local government to clear its remaining trees.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250719010724_cee1d4faf8376e7ba18b9c7012ea4215b7c3fbf7e0983b0c97005df5567d6de0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20250719010724_cee1d4faf8376e7ba18b9c7012ea4215b7c3fbf7e0983b0c97005df5567d6de0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Trees of life and living NT"> <figcaption>Photo: DURGA RANA MAGAR</figcaption> </figure>  But in wards 13 and 14, the Human Service Foundation cut down some 33 trees for which it is in a dispute with the metropolitan city as there is no unclear jurisdiction regarding who gives the permit. The Kaski Division Forest Office is currently investigating the matter. Elsewhere in ward 19, the ward office had launched ‘मेरो रूख, म काट्छु’ campaign due to an alleged chaos caused by monkeys in the area. The decision was rescinded after an all-around opposition.&nbsp; To be sure, there are policies in place to protect trees such as the Gandaki Province Forestry Act, 2080, and the Regulations, 2081. The province government also introduced an act in 2019 per which no tree, including pipal, silk cotton and other <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/suburban-tales/trees-trees?%2F">trees of natural and historical importance</a> shall be damaged, eroded or removed. But the local government, responsible for implementing the Act, is doing the opposite. “If this rapid rate of tree felling continues, neither trees nor chautara will survive for the future generation,” conservationist Ram Bahadur Poudel tells us, adding that old trees are being cleared under the pretext of pruning branches. Interestingly, Ulak notes that Pokhara-8 was called सिमलचौर in the past because there were so many majestic silk cotton trees, but there are very few left, if any, and hence altering the identity of a place. With modernisation, people have questioned the significance of chautara in this day and age. But they still have relevance. Urban centres in Pokhara and Kathmandu are much hotter than the outskirts because of the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/in-the-heat-of-the-moment-5xcycyot">urban heat island effect</a>. Says archivist Ulak: “While their original purpose was to provide rest, today they continue to play a crucial role in regulating temperature, beautifying the city, and preserving our environment.”

Trees of life and living

Nepalis are living longer than ever. By 2028, the country is set to join the ranks of other <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepals-demographic-window-is-closing">ageing societies</a> around the world, and by 2054, 1 out of every 7 people in Nepal will be over 65. Life expectancy at birth has risen dramatically from just 55 in 1990 to 71 today, &nbsp;thanks to improvements in public health and access. But as more people live longer, the country must also prepare for a parallel rise in age-related illnesses and the complex social and medical needs that come with an <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/need-to-prepare-for-ageing-society,3624">ageing population</a>. Extended families have always acted as a safety net for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/home-sweet-home-for-older-nepalis">the elderly</a>, with children and grandchildren shouldering most caregiving duties. But with more than 1,600 <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/migration-not-a-wish-but-necessity-for-nepalis">Nepalis migrating </a>every day, older parents are left behind with no one to care for them. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/the-new-equaliser">Remittances</a> from migrating youth, which account for nearly a third of Nepal’s GDP, have kept the economy afloat. But money sent home cannot make up for the chronic departure of kin and caregivers, who are often the first to catch the signs and symptoms of disease in elders. In rural areas where over 85% of Nepal’s elderly live, the absence of this daily vigilance means early signs of illness often go unnoticed until they become debilitating. As a result, chronic conditions like hypertension, diabetes, and depression are left unmanaged.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250720130748_213f2c65f2638872e9ac0550a7ac251e4960c3726dc5c76215962a23ba71dff1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250720130748_213f2c65f2638872e9ac0550a7ac251e4960c3726dc5c76215962a23ba71dff1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1064" height="701" loading="lazy" alt="Smart ageing is Nepal’s next frontier"> </figure>  Geriatric medicine is largely absent from medical curricula and there is no national plan in place to manage cognitive decline, memory loss and confusion. These are often mistaken for signs of normal ageing, instead of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/dementia-brings-new-problem-that-families-have-little%20knowledge-of,2151">dementia</a>, delaying care until it is too late. The same pattern plays out with strokes, osteoarthritis, and vision problems — conditions that could be managed early but are instead allowed to spiral into <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/changing-disability-to-this-ability-h68f6sq2">disability</a>. Nepal is not ready for an older future. It needs a strategy for ‘smart ageing’ where the focus is not adding years to life, but enhancing years lived through the intelligent application of policy, infrastructure, and crucially, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/tech-and-transition-in-nepal">technology</a>. Many models of smart ageing, however, are sculpted around modern societies where independent living in later life is the norm. Furthermore, eroding traditional family care and an underdeveloped formal care system means there is a large gap that can’t simply be filled by copy-pasting from foreign models. Nepal must shape its own version of smart ageing. The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/healthcare-moving-from-hospitals-to-homes?%2F">tech boom</a> has led to homegrown digital healthcare apps such as Hamro Doctor, Cura Health, Jeevee and Health Yaad Ayo which offer teleconsultations, online appointments, and at-home test bookings. As <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/nepal-s-new-digital-landscape">smartphones and internet access</a> extend to the most rural fringes of the Nepali countryside, geography is no longer a barrier to the use of these digital tools. What limits their use is the lack of digital proficiency among the older generation. Others find the idea of turning to a device instead of a familiar, reassuring face unfathomable. That is why <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/addressing-nepals-digital-divide?ref=blog.togglecorp.com">digital literacy</a> efforts must be paired with guided human support to build trust alongside technical skill. Such a model of community-led digital mediation is already gaining traction elsewhere. In the UK, ‘digital health ambassadors’—often young people or even schoolchildren—are trained to co-design and advocate for online platforms that resonate with peers who might otherwise feel excluded from automated health services. A Nepali version could engage cohorts of nursing students, tech-savvy youngsters and returnee migrants to assist elders in navigating digital health platforms and troubleshooting problems, and most of all, normalising the idea of health apps being a reliable recourse.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250720130748_fcb94ab76e76b5574189757e88d76fccad4e115e78dd9eae92a3bd4c882c3431.png" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20250720130748_fcb94ab76e76b5574189757e88d76fccad4e115e78dd9eae92a3bd4c882c3431" data-rendition-name="original" width="2246" height="1590" loading="lazy" alt="Smart ageing is Nepal’s next frontier"> </figure>  Nepal’s own network of Female Community Health Volunteers (FCHVs), whose credibility is rooted in long-standing relationships across rural communities, could be similarly upskilled, their roles in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/target-2030-for-maternal-and-newborn-health">maternal and child health </a>expanded and repurposed to also include geriatric tech support. However, there is a limit to how much older adults can adapt to new technologies. So, Nepal should simultaneously invest in passive technologies—tools that monitor and act for the elderly, instead of demanding active use. That is where wearables and in-home smart health devices collectively known as 'gerontechnology' come in. Picture an 82-year-old in far-flung Rolpa, away from the facilities of an urban hospital. Installed in her home are low-cost motion sensors that monitor prolonged inactivity or signs of a fall, instantly triggering alerts to the nearest health post when necessary. On her wrist, a wearable bracelet continuously tracks her sleep, vital signs, oxygen saturation, and glucose levels. This data is encrypted and synced to a digital dashboard accessible by health staff at the local post. If the system flags an acute risk—such as a potential stroke or hypoglycemia—a nearby health worker is dispatched immediately to her home. If her readings over time indicate a trend toward a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/why-do-so-many-nepalis-have-high-blood-pressure">chronic condition</a> like diabetes, community health volunteers step in. They help schedule a virtual consultation with an endocrinologist in Butwal. Based on the advice received, she gets a prescription and picks up her medication from the local community pharmacy, along with a smart dispenser to ensure she sticks to her treatment plan without missing doses. This is not as far-fetched as it may sound. Many of the individual devices forming this connected medical system called an Internet of Medical Things (IoMT) already exist in Nepal as imported commercial products. What is missing is a stronger framework for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/business/public-health-partnership">public-private collaboration</a>: one where health tech companies continue developing locally adapted tools, and the government actively integrates these innovations into public health delivery. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/people-power/nepal-as-an-ai-power-bank">Nepal’s tech ecosystem</a> is maturing, but policymaking must evolve in tandem, especially when it affects an older generation largely resistant to change. The backlash against the recent mandate requiring National Identity Cards for accessing social security benefits revealed the pitfalls of imposing top-down reforms without adequate preparation or support for seniors. For Nepalis to age well, community caregivers, doctors, innovators, and above all, the state, must step in where families have stepped away. The goal is not to replicate traditional care, but to build a coordinated system of support that connects everyone through technology. The future is older for Nepal, let us be wiser too. The writers are pursuing their undergraduate studies in biomedical engineering at the Hong Kong Polytechnic University.