This is the 61st episode of Diaspora Diaries, a Nepali Times series in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working, studying abroad. I interrupted my Grade 11 education to go to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-malaysia-nepal-migrant-scam-nexus">Malaysia</a> to work as a security guard. During <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/uproar-over-maoist-war-anniversary-holiday">the Maoist era </a>the environment in my college was not conducive to studies. I stayed on in Malaysia for eight years.&nbsp; <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/high-risk-remittance?wptouch_preview_theme=enabled">Overseas earnings</a> helped me support my family and buy land, and more importantly, to spend on the treatment of my father’s heart condition. Our duty was 12 hours and we were on our feet all day checking in visitors and employees at the gate. Nights were slow and all we did was walk around with our <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/kathmandu-s-street-smart-dogs">dogs</a> and check every hour on our radios. Sometimes, the boys also sang <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/nepali-folk-songs-move-beyond-love-and-loss">dohori </a>over the radio as we passed the long nights.&nbsp; One memorable part of my security job was that we were each assigned a dog, and were also evaluated on how well we trained them. My dog’s name was Amy and I grew very fond of her over the years. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/must-love-dogs?fbclid=IwAR1WFHDdcYJoe29GVP03I9ojdftlNqmYiGU5RDfk9ytBxNo8oC35kutToy8_aem_AeAxkQFtD1IKZSXPX6eijBytfPIihI2PVfhxDqyfbN3ZlnybtV5e82Va9-Or_rSCXbk">Must love dogs</a>, Eliza Sthapit During drills, we wore protective clothes that prevented us from getting hurt if we were bitten, and as a lightweight, I was easily attacked and trampled. But I was sent home unexpectedly because I had encouraged new <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepali-overseas-workers-who-remain-behind">Nepali workers </a>to demand <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-welcomes-qatar-labour-reform">higher wages</a> since they were paid less than me for similar work. That felt unfair, but no one wants a foreign rabble rouser.&nbsp; For some time after being sent back abruptly, I felt bad because I was not mentally prepared to come home. I had planned to stay for another two years, and had made earning plans accordingly.&nbsp; For a year in Nepal, I studied for the EPS which was started in 2008. Going to Korea had not picked up strongly then. I saw my friends and villagers <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/long-wait-over-nepalis-return-to-korea">migrating to Korea</a> one by one, and decided to give it a try. In Korean language class, the teacher used to say “Anyhow कोरिया जौँ”, and all we wanted to do was get to Korea. We had to study hard and I gave it my all. I used to write the Korean names for every object so it was etched in my memory. Whether it was a phone or bucket or plate, it would have the Korean word for it and my walls and ceiling were full of Korean words. I passed.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/bringing-korea-s-prosperity-to-nepal?amp=1">Bringing Korea’s prosperity to Nepal</a> My migration to Korea was a bit dramatic. It was two days after <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/reviewing-lessons-of-the-2015-nepal-earthquake">the earthquake</a>, and we were at the EPS office in Gwarko for our documents and caps and tshirts. I did not get to properly shop for Korea. Even though I was unprepared for the trip, the frequent aftershocks and the closeness of death made me desperate to leave. I was relieved to get on the plane and escape. In Korea, I grew capsicum. The work was easy, except for a couple of months. Night duty as a security guard in Malaysia made it difficult to pass time, but in Korea, I was working around the clock and lost track of the hours. My wife and I studied in the same <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/languages-are-both-software-and-hardware">language school</a> in Nepal. She was assigned to a strawberry farm. We got married in Nepal a few years later, and wanted to work together.&nbsp; I found a new job in a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/pigs-fly-and-fish-climb-trees">pig farm</a>, where I asked my employer about the possibility of bringing my wife to the same company and he said that if he was happy with my work, he would hire her.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250321040312_24a4996cf7e2654637b707a52e1fe3e17932fb44991587b04a736b0328e43404.jpg" data-media-id="editor_13" data-image-id="20250321040312_24a4996cf7e2654637b707a52e1fe3e17932fb44991587b04a736b0328e43404" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="The meat of the story NT"> </figure>  That was enough incentive for me to work extra hard and I picked things up fast which made my employer happy. That’s <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/making-overseas-migration-better">how it is overseas</a>: things are easier if you win the confidence of your employer. They eventually hired my wife, with whom I worked together for two-and-a-half years. My employer increasingly relied on me while also investing heavily in our knowledge and growth.&nbsp; Every morning, he used to teach us about pig farming for an hour or two, which has been invaluable for us till today, covering a range of topics including raising piglets, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/why-is-there-vaccine-hesitancy-in-nepal">vaccination</a>, artificial insemination and how to breed them on rotation. He was full of good life advice, too, including for our post-return plans. In 2020, we decided to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/now-what">come back to Nepal</a>. By this point, I felt like I had learnt everything that I needed to know about pig farming. My wife and I wanted to run a pig farm in Nepal on a rotational system, something that is not practiced widely here which puts <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/farm-subsidies-money-down-the-drain">farmers at a financial disadvantage</a>. We returned to Nepal during<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-goes-into-lockdown-for-a-week"> the early stages of Covid</a>. It is strange how I left during an <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/earthquake-vacates-villages-in-nepal">earthquake</a> and returned five years later to another crisis. After eight months we started our Unnati Bangur Hamro Bangur Farm in Panauti. Just as things were picking up, we had to go through a devastating loss when the African swine fever hit Nepal. Back then, I was spending all my time in the hospital because my newborn had a heart condition, and four months after his birth, he passed.&nbsp; There was African swine flu detected in my farm, after which we had to shut it down for almost a year. These multiple losses took my wife and me to a dark place for months, before we had to gather ourselves up and restart work. Thankfully, things are going better now. This is the nature of business, you need to exercise patience. Things are not constant. Profit, loss. Supply, demand.&nbsp; Rates of meat have gone up now because many farmers exited the market after the swine fever. We were patient, and now get significantly better rates which has helped us recover. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/meat-money-and-the-middle-class">Meat, money, and the middle class</a> The meat available in regular meat shops is very different from what we offer because our pigs are fed quality feed, not waste, and are given proper vaccinations. We have good buyers like <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/bringing-korea-s-prosperity-to-nepal?amp=1">Hankook Meat Shop run by fellow Korean returnees</a> who look for quality produce.&nbsp; The challenge of working in Nepal is that there is no proper differentiation by quality of meat, and no traceability to the farms producing the meat which makes farmers less accountable for consumers’ health. It harms those &nbsp;practicing ethical farming. Manufacturing is more popular in Korea among Nepali EPS workers, but it is work in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/aid-rarely-aids-agriculture-in-nepal">the agriculture sector </a>that is more useful after return. I brought most of my equipment from Korea along with me.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/social-remittance">Social remittance</a>, Upasana Khadka&nbsp; When we returned for good, our suitcases had no personal items like chocolates or electronics, they were full of farming equipment like vaccine guns and pig tooth nippers. &nbsp; Even now, I tell my friends in Korea to bring me farm equipment when they come home on breaks, and that I will buy them the usual blankets and chocolates to gift to their families in Nepal itself. &nbsp;&nbsp;

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The meat of the story

This is the 60th episode of Diaspora Diaries, a Nepali Times series in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working, studying abroad. <h2>Dil Bahadur Tamang</h2> I come from a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-s-class-divide-widens">middle-class family</a>, and my father did all he could to make sure we had a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/after-quantity-nepals-education-needs-quality">proper education</a>. I really wanted to be an engineer, but was not that good in studies and my father could not afford to pay for college. So I joined Korean language classes instead. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/long-wait-over-nepalis-return-to-korea">In Korea</a>, I was blown away by the infrastructure and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/development-destruction-yt3t1yhu">development</a>. But once I entered my company premises, it was a different story. It was a smelly place with piles of trash.&nbsp; This was not the standard ‘foreign company’ of my imagination. I had been placed with a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/everest-garbage-caravan">plastic recycling</a> company, and worked three years there before it went bankrupt. I switched to a welding company. Korea taught me the value of work and time, and more importantly, just how much of a difference being within a system can make. &nbsp; <h2>Prabin Shrestha</h2> I randomly came across an acquaintance who was a Korea returnee and jokingly told him that I also wanted to go. He talked about a new Government-to-Government (G2G) scheme called EPS, and told me I should give it a shot. It would be cheaper and more rewarding, but I had to pass a language test. My first <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/speaking-the-language-of-overseas-work">job in Korea</a> was drying animal leather, but a year later I moved to a plastic company before returning to Nepal to start my own <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/biodegradable-plastic-launched-in-nepal">plastic manufacturing </a>venture with Shahadev.&nbsp; Despite having skills and experience, I quickly realised that it was difficult to remain competitive with 18 hours of daily power cuts. We were afraid of losing our <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/from-retail-to-selling-chiya?fbclid=IwAR3lAnpyoOKTvyb9ekXulEcPzzZCfBmLYLZq950Bv6ElccPHVPM2175ABeI">hard earned money</a>.&nbsp; So Shahadev and I decided to remigrate and joined our previous company in Korea. This time, the thought of “नेपाल गएर के गर्ने?” kept gnawing at me. The skills and experience I acquired in Korea were not usable back home, where my heart was. &nbsp; I used to go to a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/not-easy-for-nepal-to-buffalo-meat-to-china">meat</a> shop nearby, where the shopkeeper, an elderly woman, was nice to me. We used to chat, and I wondered if I could start something similar in Nepal: a well-organised meat shop.&nbsp; My friend and I started <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-qatar-job-mirage">applying for jobs</a> in the meat sector. We wanted to work at a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/pigs-fly-and-fish-climb-trees">pig farm</a>, but got jobs in a meat processing plant. <h2>Shahadev Gurung</h2> We were the first lot that went to Korea under the EPS scheme. Korea had a good image in our community, a place where <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/12-full-opinion/let-s-listen-to-nepal-s-young-changemakers">young Nepalis</a> could make something of themselves.&nbsp; Prabin and I went on the same flight, we worked in the same plastic company, and changed to the same meat processing company. We thought it would be easy, and would be simply cutting meat like we did back home. But there everything had to be cut just right. It was a new experience and initially felt complicated. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/meat-money-and-the-middle-class">Meat, money, and the middle class</a>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250321040328_c7da4ee896e7fb140795e60e9b1b60a7e13446d9cd2914ed980071c4d5addcce.jpg" data-media-id="editor_13" data-image-id="20250321040328_c7da4ee896e7fb140795e60e9b1b60a7e13446d9cd2914ed980071c4d5addcce" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Bringing Korea's prosperity to Nepal NT"> <figcaption>BACK HOME: (Left to right) Dil Bahadur Tamang making a pitch at the RIN program. Prabin Shrestha at his shop in Nepal. Sahadev Gurung cutting meat surgically.</figcaption> </figure>  <h2>Prabin Shrestha</h2> Our employer told us that he had started with nothing, and made a lot of money selling meat. With just a knife and focus on hygiene, you can do a lot if you put your mind to it, he used to tell us.&nbsp; It was like surgery. Every part mattered. Knowing that these skills could be an <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/the-new-equaliser">investment back home</a>, we were keen to learn everything about cutting meat perfectly.&nbsp; After work, we used to take home the bones to assemble a skeleton so we could learn about all the parts. We would memorise the names and familiarise ourselves with the right angle of the knife to slice them with. We were so obsessed we learnt in 2.5 months what took others six months. Our employer gave us raises. <h2>Dil Bahadur Tamang</h2> After we <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/returning-to-nepal-has-its-rewards">returned to Nepal</a>, we started Hankook Meat Mart. I have known my co-founder Prabin Shrestha for 25 years, he is like family to me. We studied together, went to Korea together. Even before we left Nepal, we knew that we would one day run a business together. Returning from Korea, we studied the market for months before launching the business, visiting meat shops and talking to people.&nbsp; We learnt that oversupply of meat reduced the price and put quality farmers at a disadvantage. Even when we found cheaper suppliers, we set a floor price for our meat suppliers who were picked based on whether they fed the pigs proper feed and not waste, and if the animals were 6-8 months old.&nbsp; We also realised that pork meat parts are not separated but mashed together. Hygiene and quality also fluctuated. Consumers get good meat one day and the next day the same shop sold meat that was difficult even to chew.&nbsp; Imported meat was available, but costly. Our niche was going to be quality, premium meat.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250321040328_90757fa0c57e4e8254e764f556f528d382a0b4e8cb75caa3fe0a2cb52c8e77ce.jpg" data-media-id="editor_16" data-image-id="20250321040328_90757fa0c57e4e8254e764f556f528d382a0b4e8cb75caa3fe0a2cb52c8e77ce" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="900" loading="lazy" alt="Bringing Korea's prosperity to Nepal NT"> <figcaption>Hankook Meat Mart stood second in the Returnee Innovators Showcase that was organised by The Bridge International and funded by KOICA.</figcaption> </figure>  <h2>Shahadev Gurung</h2> The three of us work well together even after all these years. There is a strong trust between us. Each of us individually carry out our duties well. That I think is what has worked for us to help us endure this long partnership. The skills we learnt in Korea have stayed with us, and we are still reaping the benefits. Current EPS workers engaged in the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/aid-rarely-aids-agriculture-in-nepal">agriculture sector </a>can benefit here as the skills can be used, but you have to be willing to work hard in Nepal just like you do <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/grass-is-greener-overseas-for-nepals-doctors">overseas</a>.&nbsp; You cannot slow down just because you are in Nepal. It is also helpful to think about your return while overseas, that makes transitioning to Nepal much easier. <h2>Prabin Shrestha</h2> Korea for me was like a university where I learnt a lot. When I came home, my suitcase was full of knives, aprons for meat processing.&nbsp; There are so many things that we can learn <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-hard-working-students-overseas">overseas</a>, small things that would make our lives easier here. All I learnt was to cut meat. But we have created jobs for 30-40 people, while being close to family. We don’t have to dream very big. I enjoy working in Nepal. I saw many cottage industries that started small in Korea that I found inspiring so we bring machines from Korea and run shops that &nbsp;make rice cakes and kimchi. We are opening a new branch, and a small Korean restaurant. My former boss who visited us in Nepal is thrilled with our progress and even gifted us a meat slicer. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/overseas-job-seeker-now-creates-jobs-in-nepal">Overseas job-seeker now creates jobs in Nepal</a>, Mahesh Sah Working in Nepal is not always easy, of course, the trick is to try to find happiness even in those tough moments. That makes life easier. This kind of hustle can scare some people and dissuade many but we have to build the appetite for it because one day, these experiences will become part of our story, our journey. &nbsp;

Bringing Korea’s prosperity to Nepal

This is the 59th edition of Diaspora Diaries, a regular series in Nepali Times with stories of Nepalis living and working abroad. Growing up in Okhaldhunga, my sisters never went to school. I got a chance to take functional literacy classes and learned to read and write. This made me realise the importance of education, so I asked my father to send me to school. He agreed.&nbsp; I had to create this situation for myself. I was fortunate to get my father’s approval despite his initial reluctance because the trend back then was to<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/can-nepal-end-child-marriage-by-2030-gmx92qf3"> marry off daughters</a> after they reached 14 or 15. That was all he had known.&nbsp; Fortunately, my father did not insist on me marrying young. It helped that my brothers in Kathmandu were supportive.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250308030316_5d69794595d47468c9c3a3577cb39c3045aedf47dc758d9abd6cd512b231b2cd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250308030316_5d69794595d47468c9c3a3577cb39c3045aedf47dc758d9abd6cd512b231b2cd" data-rendition-name="original" width="966" height="1138" loading="lazy" alt="With family DD"> <figcaption>STEERING MY OWN LIFE: With my parents before leaving Nepal for the UAE in 2015. My father died soon after I left.</figcaption> </figure>  What was it about marrying young that did not appeal to me? I am not sure. But the thought of it used to make me anxious because conversations with my aunts back then made it seem like they had to give up on everything once they got married. There is no <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/from-slave-to-freedom-fighter">freedom</a> to do what one wants in life.&nbsp; For example, even when there were free all-women adult literacy classes in our village that many of my aunts were keen to join, their families did not approve. Some accepted life the way it was (“यस्तै त हो नि”). Others were sad about having to kill their ambitions.&nbsp; Marrying young felt too restrictive for me, I just was not ready for it. Instead, I came to Kathmandu after Grade 8 to join two of my brothers.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/how-the-climate-crisis-adds-to-child-marriage-in-nepal">How the climate crisis adds to child marriage in Nepal</a>, Sonam Lama Between working as a cook at an office and attending school, where I often had to miss my last class to make it to work on time, I somehow managed to pass my SLC. I then did odd jobs like work as a receptionist and later as a cashier at a Chinese restaurant. I also invested with my brother on Momo Palace, a restaurant that unfortunately did not succeed because there was not enough money to buy a refrigerator, and there were <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/how-they-kept-nepal-in-the-dark-ages">long power cuts in those days</a>. After finally getting married and having a child in 2010, I was a stay-at-home mom for a bit. After <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/lessons-not-learned-from-2015-o2etq6zu">the 2015 earthquake</a>, I left for the UAE leaving my son behind with my family.&nbsp; I first worked at a beauty parlour, waxing, straightening hair, threading. Many of my clients were Filipinas with whom I used to have engaging conversations. I asked for advice about career prospects, and they were generous with suggestions.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025030803034_9b84a14526f5ef61c634439d500f1b4c0dbc8126231e8d41f8463771ee9f697e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="2025030803034_9b84a14526f5ef61c634439d500f1b4c0dbc8126231e8d41f8463771ee9f697e" data-rendition-name="original" width="720" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Beauty parlour DD"> </figure>  &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250308030312_c85e454d376bdec42d2f9b1de794a111fbe756542f853c6efd44e031cb623d3d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20250308030312_c85e454d376bdec42d2f9b1de794a111fbe756542f853c6efd44e031cb623d3d" data-rendition-name="original" width="528" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="With mother DD"> <figcaption>With my mother in Dubai in 2017, when I worked in a beauty parlour, but passion was always to learn to drive.</figcaption> </figure>  I was always fascinated with driving. Back in Nepal, I used to be in awe of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/women-in-the-driving-seat">women who drove </a>six-wheelers. I used to wait for auto rickshaws driven by women, and had a deep sense of appreciation for what they did because they were <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/nepali-mountaineer-breaking-barriers,2708">breaking barriers</a>.&nbsp; My customers from the Philippines said they drove company cars or were chauffeurs for Emirati families. I was really interested, and used to call them up in the evenings to seek more advice.&nbsp; The work at the parlour was a necessity, I knew my interests were elsewhere. But the idea of driving on the busy streets was scary at first. But my customers assured me that it was difficult at first, but once you understood the rules, how the system worked, it was safe and driving was very doable.&nbsp; Initially, I faced challenges obtaining my driving license because back then the work visa category determined eligibility.&nbsp; For example, only those in the transport sector, in managerial positions and in security qualified for a license.&nbsp; It was disappointing, but I sought a job at a transportation company and worked as a school bus driver’s companion to manage children on their way to school and back, what we call a खलासी in Nepal.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-flying-doctor">Nepal’s flying doctor</a>, Kunda Dixit I enjoyed the job as <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/mixed-picture-for-nepal-s-children">the children </a>were friendly, and reminded me of my son of similar age back home.&nbsp; I worked there for a couple of years, even though the pay was 300 Dirhams less than my wages in the salon. But I was so committed to a driving job that I just wanted to get a toehold to obtain a UAE-license. I was the only woman in driving class, the others would be curious about where I was from and why I wanted to drive. I took the lessons seriously, and worked hard to study traffic rules. Such was my determination to obtain a license.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250308030316_f72b15112e7971eefdce49abc88c863d946bd3d6d55ec205631ac945de59b236.jpg" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20250308030316_f72b15112e7971eefdce49abc88c863d946bd3d6d55ec205631ac945de59b236" data-rendition-name="original" width="960" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="In UAE DD"> <figcaption>It was a proud moment when I took my son and mother around the UAE in my car in 2017. Wished my father was also there to see me.</figcaption> </figure>  I passed both theoretical and practical tests at one go, and bought a cheap car. My dream had been to drive my mother around, and in 2017, my mother and son came to Dubai, their first trip abroad.&nbsp; I was emotional back then because my father had died unexpectedly just a month after I left for the Emirates. He had asked me to buy him a touch phone, but he died before I even made my first pay check with which I planned to buy it for him.&nbsp; He would have loved to see me driving around Dubai. I took my mother around and also bought her a phone. What I could not do for my father, I did for her. My son was a bit distant at first, as we had been separated for two years. But by the time they were headed back to Nepal, he could not stop crying and clung on to me.&nbsp; Read also:<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/from-retail-to-selling-chiya"> From retail to selling chiya</a>, Gautam Guvaju I first started by driving a taxi. There were a few women driving taxis, including two Nepalis. Initially, it was difficult to find my way around Abu Dhabi. If I missed one turn, it could delay customers, and some who were regular on that route would create a fuss.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250308030316_be44085e095b54fca1089bd46303909b8ec1fa971c8ac463907c537a4cfa3911.jpg" data-media-id="editor_14" data-image-id="20250308030316_be44085e095b54fca1089bd46303909b8ec1fa971c8ac463907c537a4cfa3911" data-rendition-name="original" width="1080" height="1080" loading="lazy" alt="Abu Dhabi DD"> <figcaption>I drove a taxi around Abu Dhabi for five years, but always wanted to do more.</figcaption> </figure>  I wanted to avoid them complaining to my employer, so I would apologise and ask them to just pay their regular fare. Some agreed, others understood that I was a beginner and paid the full fare.&nbsp; I steadily got to know my way around, and drove taxis for five years. I used to read the local news quite a bit to stay informed about traffic law updates.&nbsp; One day, I read that there were women from the Philippines and African countries who were driving buses. I decided to get a bus license.&nbsp; When I first went to apply for it, they questioned me about why I wanted to drive a bus. I told them confidently that I could drive a bus, which was met with much surprise and amusement.&nbsp; I took the classes, the solo female student yet again. As the only woman in a group of 35 during the road test, I used to avoid the ‘ladies first’ offers because I wanted to see how others before me did so I could observe them.&nbsp; I was already a nervous driver, and I got even more nervous when they offered to let me go first. Eventually, I was one of the only seven who passed in the group of 35 drivers. Finding a job as a woman bus driver was somewhat tougher than getting the license. Abu Dhabi did not allow it due to the absence of policies for female bus drivers, so I had to look for a job in Dubai.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/three-toots-for-tootle">Three toots for Tootle</a>, Sonia Awale&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250308030324_d984dee93e0d168a9d049d92594c8882b7e876622972599bcacd3dbb0be978ad.jpg" data-media-id="editor_16" data-image-id="20250308030324_d984dee93e0d168a9d049d92594c8882b7e876622972599bcacd3dbb0be978ad" data-rendition-name="original" width="960" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Women;s day DD"> </figure>  I was thrilled when I was finally hired by a company that invested in my training as I taught myself the route. With my trainer's help, I used to draw a map of my route with the relevant stops. After the workday, I drove through the route in my car to make sure I was familiar with it. &nbsp; Since then, I have been driving a double-decker bus and taking tourists to old and modern Dubai.&nbsp; It is important to stay curious and keep pushing ourselves. I have invested a lot of money in getting a bus license, classes and other skills training, and I see it as an investment for my future.&nbsp; I don’t know what awaits me. I am 41 now, but want to keep trying new things, and refuse to let my age determine my drive. If I did, I would have stuck to my parlour job instead of taking risks and a pay cut.&nbsp; Many people choose to play it safe in life, but I have always believed in stepping outside my comfort zone and challenging what is considered appropriate work for women.&nbsp; That is what I tell <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/youth-led-feeding-campaign-spreads-across-nepalhttps://nepalitimes.com/here-now/youth-led-feeding-campaign-spreads-across-nepal">Nepali youth</a> who are considering <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/speaking-the-language-of-overseas-work">going abroad for work</a>: do not migrate empty-handed without any skills. Paper certificates do not hold much value if they do not translate into practical abilities. I enjoy my job driving the Big Bus. Earnings aside, it is rewarding to be appreciated by tourists who hop on. They want to take pictures, and ask me about myself. At traffic stops, people crossing the road sometimes wave at me.&nbsp; Such appreciation is like an extra bonus pay, and it motivates me even more. I feel proud to know that I am the first woman double decker bus driver in the tourism sector here.&nbsp; Nepalis in Dubai also shower me with a lot of affection. They tell me they have seen me on the news or on social media, and want to take selfies with me, smiling widely.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250308030332_b2d59d63c0ffff6d6e86e8bc6a7aa583881ab0dbb64ce0e8e253421aa3627436.jpg" data-media-id="editor_19" data-image-id="20250308030332_b2d59d63c0ffff6d6e86e8bc6a7aa583881ab0dbb64ce0e8e253421aa3627436" data-rendition-name="original" width="590" height="1020" loading="lazy" alt="Son DD"> <figcaption>My son on the top deck of my Big Bus when he visited Dubai recently.</figcaption> </figure>  My son tells me how his teachers and friends back home asked about me after seeing video interviews about my journey. It was a proud moment for me recently to drive my son around Dubai on the double decker.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/kalpanas-auto-autonomy">Kalpana's auto autonomy</a>, Maheshwor Acharya Diaspora Diaries is a Nepali Times collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working, studying abroad.

A woman’s drive to push boundaries

This is the 58th edition of Diaspora Diaries, and a followup to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/diaspora-diaries-4-xprqcf4x">#4 in this series</a>, published in Nepali Times #1104, 25-31 March 2022. We recommend reading that piece, available online at our website, before this one. It has been three years since I returned to Nepal from Lebanon. I did not think I would make it out alive after 12 years working for a family that never paid me. I returned empty-handed, and it was my mother who supported me. Without her, I do not know what would have happened to me.&nbsp; For some time after returning, I did not do anything. But I finally &nbsp;gather myself together, and trained as a beautician. Perhaps it was the trauma of my experience overseas, but I was introverted and did not socialise much in class. No one knew what I had been through in Lebanon. My troubles were mine to keep. I did not share them with anyone. The training centre also offered us jobs and I tried working for a few months on facials, hair straightening. But the chemicals made my chest hurt, so I quit. I found it <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-art-of-healing">therapeutic</a> to cook, and started <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/youth-led-feeding-campaign-spreads-across-nepal">preparing meals for households</a>. I cook the morning and evening meals for a family. Sometimes I cater home gatherings.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250228120224_f8cdc6a45443f90875dd91b71323e5eda2948cce753a39108ea140b64c1069f2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250228120224_f8cdc6a45443f90875dd91b71323e5eda2948cce753a39108ea140b64c1069f2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="Enslaved Nepali migrant worker rebuilds her life Diaspora Diaries NT"> <figcaption>Sajita Lama ponders her future in the tin hut where she cooks for a living.</figcaption> </figure>  These orders come mostly from referrals and word of mouth, and I can cook single-handedly for 40-50 people. Everyone has appreciated my food, which makes me happy. My specialty is <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/review/Thakkhola,328">Thakali food</a>. I learn <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/featured-videos/recipe-for-nepali-culinary-diversity">a lot of recipes</a> from <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/mobile-nepal-is-hooked-on-youtube">YouTube</a>. I have had no formal training, but I have a lot of experience from <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/who-is-up-for-a-quarantine-cooking-challenge">cooking</a> for the Lebanese family. It is just that the meals I prepared there were less oily and more bland. I listen to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/migrating-with-the-music-of-nepal">music </a>and try to enjoy cooking, but I often have flashbacks that take me back to those 12 years in Lebanon. How could they get away without paying me anything? All the toil amounted to nothing. Here, in Nepal, people pay me by the hour or sometimes on a daily basis. There are tips. Even though it is not a lot, at least I am paid here. It was so different in Lebanon. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/you-must-be-having-so-much-fun-there">“You must be having so much fun there!”</a> Sujata Dhungana I see migrant workers who have returned to Nepal with money they have saved which they invest. I came back with nothing. In fact, I barely made it back alive. But, I am trying to move on and I have made progress. I keep myself busy, and get paid for it, and this work allows me to socialise a bit with my customers.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250228120224_388d970a8354d7b83d46ec74e9dba4b96f095b29c70061732788f29531418521.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20250228120224_388d970a8354d7b83d46ec74e9dba4b96f095b29c70061732788f29531418521" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="Enslaved Nepali migrant worker rebuilds her life Diaspora Diaries NT"> </figure>  After returning from Lebanon I kept confusing Arabic and Nepali. By now, my Arabic has died. I weighed around 30kg when I came back and could not eat anything. Now I at least have an appetite even though I do not eat a lot. I try to forget everything about my <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-hard-working-students-overseas">overseas experience</a>, except an ongoing legal case for back payment of my wages. I still have not received my dues. I don’t know when or if I ever will. I have been assured that such legal cases take time and I will eventually get paid.&nbsp; I am now thinking of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/migration-not-a-wish-but-necessity-for-nepalis">migrating overseas </a>again, this time to work in a parlour or as a cook. Dubai, maybe. But with the case pending, I am hesitant to leave because what if I am needed here for official reasons pertaining to my case that require my presence? I cannot just leave and immediately come back. If I receive all my back pay, I may not even migrate. I will start a small खाजा घर, ideally an eatery near a bus park where it is busy and there is a good flow of people. I don’t have big aspirations, I will start small and expand step by step.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250228120224_16e754351fb2f593f8af1e37d9ccc7b7dd7e43b41905e68402c71709e2ffcd37.jpg" data-media-id="editor_13" data-image-id="20250228120224_16e754351fb2f593f8af1e37d9ccc7b7dd7e43b41905e68402c71709e2ffcd37" data-rendition-name="original" width="960" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Enslaved Nepali migrant worker rebuilds her life Diaspora Diaries NT"> <figcaption>Lama also runs a catering business through Instagram.</figcaption> </figure>  I can survive on what I am doing now. But that is it, I cannot do more. At this age, I have it in me to spend a few years overseas and return to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/why-invest-in-nepal">invest in</a> a business. But sometimes I fear another <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Surviving-trauma,2211">traumatic experience</a>. What if things go wrong again? I still have to confront the demons inside me. Then I think, just because it happened once it does not mean it will happen again. I mostly try not to think about my time in Lebanon. One of the daughters I took care of was two-and-half years old when I got to Beirut. The other was born while I was there and I took care of her from the very next day after her birth. By the time I left, they were both grown up. My mother keeps reminding me to keep looking ahead and forget what has happened. She reminds me that there is nothing I cannot achieve. My dream, which seems unrealistic now, is to own a house in Kathmandu. I will live on the second floor and on the first floor I will take care of the poorest, the sick, those without anyone to turn to for support.&nbsp; I will feed them and take care of them. It would give me so much joy. But I do not know if I will ever achieve this dream. To help others, you first have to be in a position to help yourself. &nbsp; <h2>Diaspora Diaries #4</h2> Excerpt from <a href="https://d1i1jdw69xsqx0.cloudfront.net/digitalhimalaya/collections/journals/nepalitimes/pdf/Nepali_Times_1104.pdf">Nepali Times, &nbsp;#1104, 25-31 March 2022</a> I first came to Lebanon when I was 18 years old. I lived in the country for 12 years as a domestic worker. Of the 12 years, I was only paid my salary for 1 year and 9 months.&nbsp; My case is unique because unlike others, I did not realise that I was being cheated through most of my stay there. I got along well with the family that I worked for. When they said they were saving up my wages in the bank, I believed them. Why would I not? They were like family, or so I thought. The idea of taking home a lump sum of money all at once was very appealing to me. After all, I had come to Lebanon to earn money to support my family back home in Nepal.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250228120220_9f914904869fb85ae3b5ecd700e2e09b759bef4e9b13018a213725b14dbe7525.jpg" data-media-id="editor_17" data-image-id="20250228120220_9f914904869fb85ae3b5ecd700e2e09b759bef4e9b13018a213725b14dbe7525" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="NT #1104"> </figure>  Now I realise that I was too trusting, and it was naive of me to believe that we were like family. They were just exploiting me, and trying to squeeze as much work from me as possible without paying for any of it. When I had first left Nepal in 2010, I had a 5 rupee note with me given to me by my sister-in-law. I kept that red bank note with me throughout my time in Lebanon. And that is all the money I brought home with me. I have now laminated the 5 rupee note. I will not forget this Nepali money because that is all I left with, and that is all I returned with. <div class="embed-block"><div><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 56.25%;"><iframe src="//cdn.iframe.ly/api/iframe?url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fembed%2FbrF-iDT5jy8%3Fsi%3DFJF63RjLdv1pzSNl&key=87ca3314a9fa775b5c3a7726100694b0" style="top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute; border: 0;" allowfullscreen scrolling="no" allow="accelerometer *; clipboard-write *; encrypted-media *; gyroscope *; picture-in-picture *; web-share *;"></iframe></div></div>Watch this video prepared by the activist group This is Lebanon of Sajita Lama’s homecoming in 2022 at Kathmandu airport, and interviews with her Lebanese employers. Parts of this video may be distressing to some viewers.</div> Diaspora Diaries is a Nepali Times collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working, studying abroad.

Enslaved Nepali migrant worker rebuilds her life

This is the 57th edition of Diaspora Diaries, a regular column about migration in Nepali Times. I worked overseas for 16 years in Qatar, Dubai and Seychelles in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/good-housekeeping">housekeeping</a>. I have even been involved in the pre-opening of seven 5-star properties abroad. In 1996, I had to pay Rs35,000 to the recruiter for my Qatar job. Back then that was a lot of money, which my family could not afford. No one was able to help, perhaps because I could not convince them that I would pay them back.&nbsp; Eventually, it was my father’s friend who sold his buffalo to loan the money. I vividly remember that kind gesture. Had he not helped, I probably would not be where I am today.&nbsp; Everyone faces challenges in life, but there are very few who are pillars of support during tough times. I told my father from Qatar to let his friend pick the buffalo of his choice to repay him. I had flown out of Kathmandu, all excited, wearing a suit and tie. But the minute I got off the plane in Doha, the heat hit me and the coat came off, and the tie-knot was loosened. I immediately started thinking that I had made a mistake to go there.&nbsp; But I was lucky to get a job indoors in a hotel that had good facilities, not like many Nepalis who had to toil in the heat. I was one of the first cohorts, the first Nepali, at the Sheraton in Doha.&nbsp; Within a couple of years, there were 76 Nepalis working at the hotel. As test hires, we left a good impression on management and won their trust, which subsequently opened doors for more Nepalis.&nbsp; To be born as a Nepali means to be born to work hard and struggle. And that is what I did all those years abroad. I also wanted to advance in my career by earning a higher salary, get promoted. Now, what (अब के?) was the question I often pondered.&nbsp; While working as an attendant, I took up cross-training in my free time which prepared me for my role as a supervisor. This made me ready for the position when the right time came. I was promoted in the following years in hotels across &nbsp;<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/migrants-returning-from-the-gulf-with-infertility">the Gulf</a>. The highlight was to get a chance to serve <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/preserving-king-birendra-s-family-home">King Birendra</a> and his family who stayed at Doha Sheraton on their way back to Nepal from the UK in 1999. The royal couple chatted with us casually and asked us about our wages and job facilities, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/speaking-the-language-of-overseas-work">life overseas</a> and families back home. It felt like they were our guardians. I was in Dubai when I learnt of the royal massacre in 2001, and the memories of serving our king and queen three years previously came rushing back.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025021407020_32adfd3afeff2491991abfc83adeffcb3dbb2b5cc329a5bcfa798641a0db33ff.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2025021407020_32adfd3afeff2491991abfc83adeffcb3dbb2b5cc329a5bcfa798641a0db33ff" data-rendition-name="original" width="720" height="540" loading="lazy" alt="Now, what DD 57 NT"> </figure>  When I first went to Qatar, I was raw clay, but I fell into the right hands that shaped me into a beautiful vase. The training I received along with colleagues from over a hundred nationalities gave me exposure and helped me grow. This is not just my story but the story of many <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/overseas-job-seeker-now-creates-jobs-in-nepal">migrants who have returned to Nepal</a>, to use the skills we gained abroad. With my savings I could build a brick house, afford better food and clothes, and invest in cars. &nbsp;These are tangible benefits. But as you earn more, your needs grow. Had I known better, I would have invested more wisely. But the skills I learnt enabled me to run Sankalpa, a facilities management business in Nepal that specialises in cleaning jobs, and provides employment to 85 workers. I had dreamt of starting something like this, but there were always reasons to postpone taking the leap.&nbsp; I was abroad for financial reasons, and there were personal challenges such as deaths in the family. But I finally decided to come back to Nepal 12 years ago and start this business.&nbsp; Initially, I had regrets about my decision to return. I had left behind a cushy Senior job with a handsome salary of AED7,500 ($2,000). After 16 years abroad, it was difficult adjusting to Nepal because working here requires you to knock at many doors, and you need connections. This can lead to much frustration, but even then I persevered. Now, I am happy with where I am at. Cleaning is not just magic, as it is often perceived; it is a science. Different chemicals and methods are required to clean various surfaces. We are raising awareness and creating demand for professional cleaning services across Nepal.&nbsp; It is important to invest in proper cleaning, not just for the longevity and cleanliness of marble, sofas, or carpets, but also for hygiene and health reasons. In my first year and a half, I did 24,000km on my bike in Kathmandu on marketing trips, knocking on door after door. It has not been easy but has its rewards, especially as I am able to provide jobs to over 80 workers.&nbsp; It is not like there are no opportunities in Nepal. There are. But it requires lots of discipline and patience, and you need to renew your energy every day. You have to have the faith that even if things don’t work out today, they will tomorrow. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/proud-to-give-back-to-nepal">Proud to give back to Nepal</a>, Prakash Katuwal&nbsp; When I was in Doha Sheraton, there was a Bangladeshi staff who at 60 years old was working at the company canteen to sustain his family back home. I remember my friend looking at him and commenting: “Our future.”&nbsp; In my mind, this stayed as a warning because I wanted to come home to my wife and children and did not want that future for myself. I had always planned to return home, the sooner the better. Sankalpa had been brewing in my head for a long time. I had to make it work here at all costs. Diaspora Diaries is a Nepali Times collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working, studying abroad.

Now, what?

This is the 56th edition of Diaspora Diaries, a regular column about migration in Nepali Times. <h2>Heera Tirwa</h2> I was just 13 when I married an India-born Nepali from Achham. &nbsp;An arranged marriage, I first saw my husband only at the wedding ceremony. I moved to India from Achham when I was so young that I associate my childhood with Mumbai instead of Nepal.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250110100124_fcc447c7d7436ff80312e71a4cfcdbaae9610dff932ec2398c57c75eb256fa19.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250110100124_fcc447c7d7436ff80312e71a4cfcdbaae9610dff932ec2398c57c75eb256fa19" data-rendition-name="original" width="5712" height="4284" loading="lazy" alt="Heera Tirwa"> </figure>  My father, also a watchman in Maharashtra, did not visit us when my children were born despite living just a 10-hour drive away. I had to accept the fact that my mother who was in Nepal would not visit me, but my father’s absence hurt. I wrote a letter reminding him that his responsibility as a father does not end simply because he married me off. Navigating new responsibilities at such a tender age far away from home, I needed his attention. My father then visited us and lifted my spirits. Years have passed, filled with both happy and sad moments. &nbsp;Access to education, health, jobs and road networks is better here. But the cost of living is high and making ends meet is difficult, especially in single-income households. That is why I also work full time at a company that makes nuts and bolts. We are so invested in our children’s education and future that we overlook all the hurdles in life. In the old days, someone’s departure from the village to Mumbai would draw a crowd, with people asking them to deliver letters and gifts to their loved ones. This flow of people between our villages and Mumbai ensured we were up to date with news including of childbirths, marriages and deaths on either side, despite the absence of phones and internet. I still cannot believe it took me 13 years to make my first trip back to Achham from Mumbai. It was a reunion filled with tears and embraces, especially with my mother, much like my departure years ago. <h2>Chandra Singh</h2> I grew up in Doti. My mother passed away when I was around four years old, so my five siblings and I pretty much raised ourselves. Even at that age, I took care of my younger siblings.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250110100128_a03c86a5cf2d7fd396d331b54114613fdd4350ec89aef8f0d150fb3ccb364369.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250110100128_a03c86a5cf2d7fd396d331b54114613fdd4350ec89aef8f0d150fb3ccb364369" data-rendition-name="original" width="5712" height="4284" loading="lazy" alt="Chandra Singh "> </figure>  I do not know exactly when I came to India from Doti, it must have been over 40 years ago. But I vividly remember weeping non-stop till I reached Dhangadi en route to Mumbai with my new family. The next time I visited Doti was years later, accompanied by my three children. My father-in-law worked as a watchman in Mumbai. My husband, who is no more, was born here and also worked as a watchman. &nbsp;Many Nepalis like my father-in-law who had permanent jobs moved their families to India. Housework including taking care of my grandchildren and elderly mother-in-law keeps me busy, but I continue to work as a part-time household help for an Indian family. I mop and wash dishes which provides me some spare cash to supplement my sons’ earnings. Back in our village in Nepal, one can rely on agriculture and livestock to sustain ourselves. There are social networks to lean on during difficult times. One can borrow or even beg. You won’t go hungry. Someone or the other will check on you. Here in the city, all you have is your hard work to rely on. You can eat only if you work hard. <h2>Kamala Tirwa</h2> I was a bright student growing up in Mahendranagar. I had completed Grade 9, and also taught adult literacy classes to women in my village, so they knew how to sign or to read letters.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250110100128_f98f1d4217aa5bc1e5d727d84a4a457ef9b8314dd0f4db497b8b78d07d03ae3e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250110100128_f98f1d4217aa5bc1e5d727d84a4a457ef9b8314dd0f4db497b8b78d07d03ae3e" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="3024" loading="lazy" alt="Tirwa"> </figure>  I also spread awareness against HIV stigmatisation.These engagements exposed me to a world beyond my four walls, expanding my knowledge as I interacted with diverse people, underwent training from organisations, and taught classes. It was also fulfilling as women showed up for the classes after finishing their household chores and participated intently. To complete SLC was a big deal in our village, especially for a girl, and I was so close. But my parents decided to marry me off to an India-born Nepali at 16. I knew of him as he sometimes visited from Mumbai during his vacations and played football with the village boys. My son, who is now in his twenties, is still a baby in my eyes. I was significantly younger than him when I got married. Yet, I was expected to know how to manage a household and fulfill my responsibilities as a wife, daughter-in-law and mother. We also did not have access to tv or internet back then. Children these days are so knowledgeable. We were living in the dark age and did as we were told. Even after all these years, a part of me regrets not completing my education despite being a good student. What was the point of being studious in my circumstances? I remind people to study hard because education is such a privilege. I am invested in my sons’ education. The elder one is now doing a bachelors in AI and data science. Just as my in-laws returned to Nepal after we settled down in Mumbai, we too are considering returning to Nepal after our children are settled. <h2>Suresh Singh</h2> I cannot believe it has been 34 years since I came to Mumbai. For most of us Nepalis, जन्मभुमी (land of birth) and कर्मभुमी (land of work) are two separate geographies. Like my father, I worked as a watchman. My grandfather, too, worked in Mumbai in a mill.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250110100128_d3ca3227f428b8711ab76f617deab6e74df2302f2715a6a489512f5fb2b51067.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250110100128_d3ca3227f428b8711ab76f617deab6e74df2302f2715a6a489512f5fb2b51067" data-rendition-name="original" width="5712" height="4284" loading="lazy" alt="Suresh Singh"> </figure>  I am now the Security Head, the highest position at my company. The city provides opportunities for those willing to seize them. In my case, I should have used the time outside my 8-hour shifts to complete my education or take skills-based training so I could be competitive in the labor market. The realisation that education is important came late to many of us. My wife was back in Achham, while I worked in Mumbai. She passed away when my son was just one-and-a-half years old. It was difficult to comprehend the news, and I rushed back. I forced authorities to let me on the flight from Tikapur. I was going to leave anyhow, even if it meant having to stand on top of the plane. Grief can make you act in strange ways. In my white clothes, shell-shocked and filled with raw emotions, I must have been quite the sight. They eventually provided me with a seat. My mother raised my son until he reached five, after which I brought him to Mumbai. As a single parent, I don’t think I was able to provide him the kind of guidance that is needed during children’s formative years. Work obligations to provide for him often took precedence. Thankfully, he grew up just fine. He recently left his secure banking career to start his venture in digital advertising. He does not have any memory of his mother. We don’t have a single photo of her.&nbsp; Diaspora Diaries is a Nepali Times collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working, studying abroad.

The tale of four Nepalis in Mumbai

This is the 55th edition of Diaspora Diaries, a regular column about migration in Nepali Times. Trying to escape being recruited by the Maoists, and running out of options in Nepal, I dropped out of school and paid Rs300,000 to a recruiter to take me to the UAE on a tourist visa.&nbsp; I was stranded there for two months, and just as my visa was about to expire, I landed a job in the warehouse of an American base in Afghanistan. Within three months, I got promoted to a Senior Supervisor which irked some of my colleagues who had been working there for seven years. I was already also feeling discriminated against by my Nepali colleagues, except one colleague from Taplejung who had a good heart. One day, a bomb exploded in a container with food items, killing nine people. I had enough and returned to Nepal. When you are so close to death, you reassess your life choices. In my 17 months in Afghanistan, I had earned close to Rs3 million which helped me buy land and build a house. In Kathmandu, I came across an ad in Kantipur for Korean language classes, and without even returning to Janakpur I enrolled. The EPS language test was just 58 days away, and there were people who had been preparing for the Korean language test for up to three years. The odds were stacked against me. I studied for the exam as though my life depended on it. I aced the mock exams. I ranked first out of 600 students, and this reminded me of my childhood when I was a class topper. It was the financial situation that had made me discontinue my studies. I managed to pass the exam, the only person out of the 36 living in our rented building. I went to Korea and worked in manufacturing. Three months into my stint, my father was diagnosed with a brain tumor, and I came home for a month to take care of him.&nbsp; Even if I did not have liquid cash, I knew I had a job waiting for me in Korea and could have borrowed money to take my father to India. My only priority was to keep my father alive. But the doctor said his case was terminal.&nbsp; He was discharged from hospital, and we brought him home. As I left for Korea, he could not speak properly but acknowledged that I was leaving and gestured his blessings. He died a week later. I was at work, and went to my room to grieve. I declined my employer’s offer to buy me a ticket home as I had already lost my father. I mourned for him for a week in my room. In the five years there, I repaid the loans I had taken for my father’s medical bills and even had some savings. I could have renewed my contract in Korea for another five years, but I decided against it.&nbsp; Of course, it was exhilarating to be paid Rs200,000 a month in my bank account, but I had worked for others all my life, and now that I had made some money, I wanted to do something on my own in Nepal. The technical skills I had accumulated working in a car company were not very applicable here. But I also learnt many other things in Korea like work ethic, respect for peers, and discipline. I bought a used machine that makes notebooks and set up Rudraksha, a notebook factory.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241226091228_1aede8148362860c9c16b65ceeaf8df6a1df02c61b5d6bce3180d6a547fa2f64.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20241226091228_1aede8148362860c9c16b65ceeaf8df6a1df02c61b5d6bce3180d6a547fa2f64" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspori Diaries 55"> </figure>  I hired a former worker from the same factory I had bought the machine from and he taught me how to operate it and about the stationery business. Seven years later, he is still working with me.&nbsp; It is in Korea that I learnt how bosses and staff work side-by-side and there is no task that is too big or small. I know that when I work with my staff, it makes them more proactive. I used to deliver the notebooks on my bike to shops all over my district and beyond. Later I diversified and took on dealership of brands like Natraj, Cello and Doms. This spread out my income sources naturally because it was related to my notebook factory . Things were going well until the pandemic hit and I suffered a huge loss. The notebooks in stock were all damaged. I was idle, so I became a dealer for Bikaji and expanded to other brands like Horlicks, Nestle, Dabur Nepal and Tokla tea. As things recovered, my brothers and I dabbled in a shoe factory. Other than instinctively knowing that there was a high demand for affordable shoes in our area, we did not have any prior knowledge or experience in this sector. It was a gamble and the upfront investments were high, but fortunately it has worked out well.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241226091228_d695759f66c03d08fda6ce25be00e122c01f18cd671e27640bc30392933c8d0f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20241226091228_d695759f66c03d08fda6ce25be00e122c01f18cd671e27640bc30392933c8d0f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspori Diaries 55"> </figure>  Our company, TNT, has good designs and finishing at affordable prices and it has attracted customers across Nepal. While there are challenges like fierce competition and high bank interest rates, we are doing quite well for ourselves.&nbsp; Across my portfolio, I am providing jobs to 122 workers. I first started with a Rs150 business as a kid selling plastic bags in a vegetable market for Rs1.25 each. I have come a long way since then. My work has given me recognition in my area, even though I tend to be quite introverted. My community members who have watched me since I was little tell me that I am a legend in the tea shops as someone who rose from nothing to be a successful entrepreneur.&nbsp; With my father’s salary as a teacher, we did not even have money to buy school uniforms. I value hard work and that is what I tell young people. When I am on someone’s payroll, I take ownership of the work. I do not let time dictate my work schedule.&nbsp; If I can stay an extra ten minutes to solve something, I do not leave it for tomorrow. Little things like this matter. For those of us without a strong family back-up, foreign employment can be beneficial. But I have also met a few people who were overseas who are still there.&nbsp; Their children are now also overseas. Those stories are a bit disheartening. I am not sure why things are that way. Perhaps people overspend and do not prioritise savings? I was one of the first workers in Korea from our Maithili community and I did not have many friends from the Tarai there. Towards the end of my stay there, I met a few here and there. Many from our villages opt for overseas employment opportunities where agents just hand over their visas at a price. I remind young people to be patient and take up language classes so they can benefit from higher paying jobs.&nbsp; Working hard has not stopped even now. I want to leave a legacy. Let’s see what the future holds. My next goal is to start a pen factory. &nbsp; Diaspora Diaries is a Nepali Times collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working, studying abroad.

Overseas job-seeker now creates jobs in Nepal

This is the 54th edition of Diaspora Diaries, a regular column about migration in Nepali Times. <h2>Kumar BK</h2> I have enjoyed playing the flute since I was a young boy. I used to play it in the forest while tending to my cattle or collecting firewood near my village in Khotang. But I am a self-taught musician, I have never played professionally. I know I am not as good as other professional flute players like those I often watch on YouTube. Reaching that skill level requires professional training. It took me a lot of practice to reach my present level. My learning was interrupted because of going overseas. Growing up, my father was always abroad: first in Malaysia and then Qatar. I stayed with my maternal uncle, and childhood was a constant struggle. I had to help my grandparents with the family business, so I only got to attend school thrice a week. Even then, I somehow passed Grade 12. My father returned for good, and in 2014 it was my turn to go and work in Malaysia. I did not manage to save much because of household expenses. My brother has health problems, and a lot of my savings went for his treatment. After three years in Malaysia, I went to Dubai in 2020. Because of a bad contract and Covid-19, things did not work out as I anticipated. During the lockdown I spent a few months in my room without work or pay. Eventually I did get a good job, but after two years my contract was not renewed because of slow business. I came home last year and am now headed to Qatar. Let’s see how things go this time. When my father was away, he used to write home once every few months. We received news of his well-being with much relief. Times have changed now.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241214021252_bd2e1b0d8050a884a0efe8ae78bd0d95053424b62ebe6d5bb5a086b07b4bcd8c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20241214021252_bd2e1b0d8050a884a0efe8ae78bd0d95053424b62ebe6d5bb5a086b07b4bcd8c" data-rendition-name="original" width="963" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Kumar BK DD 54"></figure>  With my father sending money, we were able to afford household expenses. Before my father left, we lived in a bamboo shed with a small room, but now we have a house and land. He lifted us to a state where we no longer have to worry about affording food or a roof on our heads. Other hardships remain. As a son of a migrant, there was always the expectation that he would bring us a mobile phone. It is only later after working overseas that I realised it is not so easy. My overseas experience did not lead to much progress. We had many unanticipated expenses that took precedence: someone falling ill, someone falling down and needing hospital care. Random expenses left few savings. I have now realised that it is difficult to make progress from migration alone if we do not have other ways to supplement our overseas earnings. If households back home can cover basic expenses like food, overseas earnings can be channeled to more productive investment to uplift the family. If remittance from one family member is the sole income source, then we migrate just to survive. Migrant workers like me have just one goal: to earn as much as possible in a limited timeframe. I am headed overseas again with the same thought. Back in my village, I look for a quiet, shaded spot in a nearby forest to play my flute by myself while tending to livestock. I am often away now, but my neighbours in the village say that when they hear the sound of a flute from the forest, they know I am home. I am taking my flute with me to Qatar. I will practice in my room in my free time. Playing it in my room will give me comfort. <h2>Deepak Darji</h2> I was very young when I lost my father. After that my mother also started falling ill. Before that, our family was doing just fine financially. My childhood was not easy because of her poor health and my father’s absence. School was not really a priority. I had to make sure my mother had the medicines keeping her alive. I had household chores like cooking. My mother often reminded me to go to school, but how could I? The responsibilities were on my shoulders from a young age. At least now, she is getting a cash grant from the government that has eased things a bit. Over the years, I have been doing odd jobs. Things are not easy and finding regular work is difficult in the village. As a musician, I am part of a पञ्चे बाजा troupe that plays at weddings and other rituals. If the event is far from where we live, we make about Rs4,000 and if close by, it can be up to Rs3,000. The frequency of events varies. Some months we have four or five, while at other times it is less. Over a decade ago, I went to Dubai but did not get to work or earn as planned despite spending almost Rs200,000 in fees. I had to rely on fellow villagers in Dubai for help, but they told me this was not a sustainable way to live overseas. They were right. I came home before the end of my contract, and was heavily in debt because I could not save enough to pay my recruitment loans. In fact, I had to borrow additional money to sustain myself while in Dubai.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241214021252_9c68e45a42623952ca8be0e97e8f45f10851f90e5ab33b3646ccbca962666f06.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20241214021252_9c68e45a42623952ca8be0e97e8f45f10851f90e5ab33b3646ccbca962666f06" data-rendition-name="original" width="720" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Deepak Darji"></figure>  After returning, I have migrated to various places in India including Shillong, Lucknow, Delhi and Mumbai to work in construction or hotels. I also did short term police duties during the election in Nepal, and the earnings helped while getting to serve the country. I have tried to go overseas again but the first failed experience left a deep scar in my psyche. It was difficult to trust people who said they would find me jobs. I also did not have the Rs300,000 fee they demanded for a job in the Gulf. For Malta they wanted up to Rs800,000. I could not afford such high costs. Now, I have six children to take care of along with my wife and mother. I was finally able to go overseas because the job did not require any recruitment fees. After all, we migrate in the hope that something will work out. Just about everyone is leaving from my village. The well-to-do ones go to Japan and Australia, and people like us to the Gulf. I am taking my shehnai oboe to Qatar to practice during breaks, or when I am bored. Eventually, I will have to come home and resume performing at events, so I cannot afford to get rusty. I had previously taken it to India as well and fellow Nepalis would sometimes ask me to play after a hard day’s work. Our house in the village is known as the ‘radio house’ because the radio is always on. When my grandfather was alive, people would come over to listen to farming programs and radio dramas. He used to encourage fellow villagers to adopt the farming practices that the radio programs talked about. Even today, the radio plays throughout the day, and if it ever stops, people are startled by the silence and say: “कस्तो सुनसान भयो”. Diaspora Diaries is a Nepali Times collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working, studying abroad.

Migrating with the music of Nepal

&nbsp;This is the 53rdedition of Diaspora Diaries, a regular column about migration in Nepali Times. I was the first migrant to the Gulf from my village of Chagariya of Dhanusha district. We had heard of people who had gone to Saudi Arabia from neighbouring villages and done well for themselves.&nbsp; There were five children to feed and raise, and we did not have much land. Foreign employment seemed like a good choice. After I left in 1992, many others from my village also became migrant workers, including relatives. I have vivid memories of the day I left home. The whole village showed up to drop me off at the bus station. It was like a wedding. My family members wept, they did not know if I would come back alive. There was so much uncertainty. Nowadays migrating has become so common that people come and go without anyone knowing.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024112410118_c15bcbb869d4335ebf5c6bc91ae754982453df2e180299b03eb3f198f8c7c327.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2024112410118_c15bcbb869d4335ebf5c6bc91ae754982453df2e180299b03eb3f198f8c7c327" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="2268" loading="lazy" alt="DD 53"> <figcaption>Ram Dhani Yadav with his family.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024112113110_19fd8eadc8fe5ea082dc8ad899dd19643daca0bc7638c1db6e7175a56b56e9dd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024112113110_19fd8eadc8fe5ea082dc8ad899dd19643daca0bc7638c1db6e7175a56b56e9dd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1768" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="DD 53"> </figure>  Getting on the plane was scary. I had a window seat and the flight attendant helped us with our seat belts and offered us food. I chose the vegetarian meal, and even though they offered beer, I stuck to Dew. Someone from the company was waiting for us at Dammam airport. And the heat! It burnt all the hair on my head. It was impossible without AC. But even in Nepal the heat is suffocating now, and it is hard working on the farm. Seems like we imported not just money, but also the heat from Saudi Arabia. After a couple of months as a labourer, I lost interest in the work. Luckily, I got a job as a company barber since I had experience. I cut the hair of fellow workers from Nepal, India, Pakistan, Korea and the Philippines.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024112410118_e8c60f57bd767053f067400da4fcf76514662d4bd418a011b72a30356a3633d8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2024112410118_e8c60f57bd767053f067400da4fcf76514662d4bd418a011b72a30356a3633d8" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="2268" loading="lazy" alt="DD 53"> <figcaption>Barbers' tools that Yadav used after he got a job as a company barber in Saudi Arabia.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024112410118_ff2a87da06735fa254b9a10e35fa5163527fbe939421b875150dd02b9adde17c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2024112410118_ff2a87da06735fa254b9a10e35fa5163527fbe939421b875150dd02b9adde17c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="DD 53"> <figcaption>Yadav with the mirrior he used for his side-job as a barber.</figcaption> </figure>  &nbsp;The workers did not have to pay, but if they liked it they gave me handsome tips, fruit juice or even a crate of canned Pepsi. I chatted in Hindi with the Indians and Pakistanis. Those working in scaffolding, welding or drivers earned more and tipped better. Low paid workers left less tips, but I did not mind. I worked in the company’s hair salon which had a fancy revolving chair and big mirror. For off hours and holidays, I had my own makeshift barber corner in camp as my side hustle. I bought my own mirror, hung it on a rod and my clients sat on a stool. I would also drop by one of the salons in the market to earn some extra cash on our days off. Times were different back then. There were no mobiles and my wife had to travel a long way to receive calls on a CDMA phone from Ram Dayal’s shop at a pre-arranged date and time. The calls were brief because they were expensive.&nbsp; We had more detailed communications through cassette tapes that we sent each other. Whenever I felt homesick, I listened to the voices of my wife and children over and over again – especially the girls who were always loud and chirpy.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024112113110_d91691006f5ab08532b5a2e76e737c2dfd9edcff175bd5617f9053a4269f17ce.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2024112113110_d91691006f5ab08532b5a2e76e737c2dfd9edcff175bd5617f9053a4269f17ce" data-rendition-name="original" width="2056" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="DD 53"> <figcaption>This is the cassette tape case Yadav had sent home from Saudi Arabia over three decades ago. His handwriting reads: Sender: Ram Dhani Yadav, Saudi Arab (Dammam) Receiver: Sita Devi Yadav, Ward No 3, Chagariya, Nepal </figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024112113114_86cc0ffc1a1df040656a31f8876f2d48cc50b6f1f96b4ee8840c2174fce45c98.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2024112113114_86cc0ffc1a1df040656a31f8876f2d48cc50b6f1f96b4ee8840c2174fce45c98" data-rendition-name="original" width="1791" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="DD 53"> </figure>  When I missed my family, I would play the tapes on a Sony that I bought for 60 riyal. When I was alone in my camp dorm, I would record whatever I wanted to tell my family, replay the recording and if it was good enough, I sent it to Nepal with some cash, wrapping it all in layers of cellotape. Every night before going to sleep, I would re-listen to the voices of my family. I kept the player close to my ears at a very low volume as I shared the room with four or five others. Even hearing about mundane everyday things from the village over and over again in the voices of my wife and daughters filled me with joy after work. One day, someone from management said I had a call from Nepal. It was news of my youngest son’s death, and that was a painful moment. He was just 18 months old. In a tape that followed, my family filled in the details: he had died of measles. I responded by recording my own feelings on tape and consoled them.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024112410118_9e698ea6b9c7d9806444eed194df1227249003ba5b8644557ebdcef549e7263e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="2024112410118_9e698ea6b9c7d9806444eed194df1227249003ba5b8644557ebdcef549e7263e" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="2268" loading="lazy" alt="DD 53"> <figcaption>Yadav now talks to his son, who is also overseas for work, through video calls on his mobile phone.</figcaption> </figure>  My company offered to send me home on mourning break for a month. What was the point? My son was already gone, so I could not bring him back. Instead, I grieved on my own in Saudi Arabia before I resumed work. The company was kind enough to pay me my basic wages. During my time overseas, I came home thrice. When I left for Saudi Arabia after my third vacation home, I wept as my mother was in poor health and paralysed. I just could not stay away, so three weeks later I returned to Nepal on a one-way ticket. I brought back my barbershop mirror, and it still hangs on my wall. <div class="embed-block"><div><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 56.25%;"><iframe src="//cdn.iframe.ly/api/iframe?url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fembed%2FDXX3kPW42oc%3Fsi%3DolveYQBO4UYjBKl&key=87ca3314a9fa775b5c3a7726100694b0" style="top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute; border: 0;" allowfullscreen scrolling="no" allow="accelerometer *; clipboard-write *; encrypted-media *; gyroscope *; picture-in-picture *; web-share *;"></iframe></div></div></div> <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/50-diaspora-diaries-in-nepali-times">Diaspora Diaries</a> is a regular column in Nepali Times in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working, studying abroad.

"The first migrant worker from my village"

I was born in Mumbai where my father worked as a watchman. When I was just four years old, my parents decided that it would be best if my mother went back to our home district of Achham in Nepal to take care of our house and farm. And off she went with my one-year-old brother. In her absence, we lived close to his workplace. He worked shifts, and was not always home when I returned from school. I learnt to cook for both of us at a young age, even though I do not consider myself a good cook.&nbsp; From childhood, I had this innate sense of responsibility and completed my homework or rote-learned for exams even when I was not under parental watch.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241101221140_2a8ae15dc440b94aff7a6146e7ce457bb21376cbd206d1ff503e9f83ea2a4334.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20241101221140_2a8ae15dc440b94aff7a6146e7ce457bb21376cbd206d1ff503e9f83ea2a4334" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 51 NT"> <figcaption>Bishwokarma was married at 15 to a 13-year-old girl also from Achham who, like him, was also born and raised in Mumbai.</figcaption> </figure>  Growing up around Nepali families in the neighbourhood, I picked up Nepali. Not having a mother figure around, I did not really know what I missed as it had always been that way. My mother and I communicated in letters that were about a paragraph-long without much substance other than basic pleasantries and updates from school. I was more accustomed to my father, with whom I shared a special bond. I married young at 15 to a 13-year old girl who was also born in Mumbai to migrants from Achham. My mother came to my wedding and it was the first time we met after she had left over a decade ago. My mother returned with my wife to Achham where my city grown wife learnt how to do village household chores. Unsurprisingly, she did not like it, but she stayed on for two years. While she was trained by my mother in Achham, I was continuing my school in Mumbai.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241101221140_dbb23b8a76397c7cd7b9b640455a6d0b274d7411e91032a34d118a33d1ac0069.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20241101221140_dbb23b8a76397c7cd7b9b640455a6d0b274d7411e91032a34d118a33d1ac0069" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 51 NT"> </figure>  After my wedding, I went to Achham for the first time ever. With no mental image of what it would look like, I did not know what to expect. Life in Nepal took some getting used to but with the visits I grew attached to Nepal and I got familiar with Nepali songs and movies via YouTube. My father eventually moved back to Nepal. My mother needed more help around the house to tend the fields. By then, I had settled down in Mumbai with my wife and four children and worked as a watchman, just like my father. My now-jobless father now depended on me. This put more financial pressure on me. I used to enjoy playing cricket growing up. But when household responsibilities start weighing on you from a young age, there is no space in life for hobbies and passions. By the time I was of age to discover and nurture my interests, I was already worrying about raising my children well.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241101221140_0ccd2cd0e243a5124f13047a2d7caad5df462b2e396745b0381393e385b76301.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20241101221140_0ccd2cd0e243a5124f13047a2d7caad5df462b2e396745b0381393e385b76301" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="900" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 51 NT"> </figure>  Life in Mumbai is fast-paced. Everyone is running around. My company closed down, and I lost my job. I then bought an autorickshaw, and my daily income varies between INR 700-1,500. I prefer this more than being a watchman, as there is more freedom. It is self-paced, and there is time to rest. There is no boss to order me around. My three sons work as a vegetable vendor, a real estate agent and a cinematographer, and my daughter is a nurse. They also take care of some of the household expenses. What I earn is just for my pocket money and to keep myself occupied. What would I do sitting around idly? If I had a traditional job, I would be retiring in three years after turning 60. But as an autorickshaw driver, there is no end at sight. I will retire when my body demands it.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241101221140_2f370b6e52af5460cfd7b4a4761a557baef3a3b2158cfdaa5ac3bb0bdcd0065b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20241101221140_2f370b6e52af5460cfd7b4a4761a557baef3a3b2158cfdaa5ac3bb0bdcd0065b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 51 NT"> </figure>  I don’t interact much with my customers as I have to keep my eye on the road at all times. Mumbai traffic is bad. Sometimes, customers hail three-wheelers like mine when the cars they have booked online do not arrive on time because of traffic. They have meetings to attend or flights to catch, and they are thankful when I stop to pick them up.&nbsp; Other than that, the interactions are quite limited. Most customers are glued to their phones. Some even bring out their laptops. My job is to ensure they reach their destinations. Three years ago, I received a call from Achham about my father’s heart attack. I was arranging my travel to Nepal, but he passed away that night. I still went to Achham for his last rites, and I cannot describe how difficult it was to make that long journey alone while grieving my father’s loss. As I changed buses and trains across India, all I could think about was my father.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024110203118_3da6e8d233ba52600ae4902d65ba754436340d577e6fce5e3c91f39a507866c3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2024110203118_3da6e8d233ba52600ae4902d65ba754436340d577e6fce5e3c91f39a507866c3" data-rendition-name="original" width="1700" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 51"> </figure>  We moved my mother to Gujarat where my brother works as a watchman as we did not want to leave her alone in Achham. Our house there is now empty.&nbsp; Just like I was close to my father who raised me, my brother is close to our mother. My brother and I have never spent more than a few days together because we were separated as children. I visit them in Gujarat once in a while. I have lived a simple and perhaps even a boring life. There have been enough hardships, but nothing that I have not been able to sort out on my own. I have not had to depend on others. God has been restrained in the way he sends me problems. We are all entangled in our own झमेला troubles. Translated from a conversation with the author. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/50-diaspora-diaries-in-nepali-times">Diaspora Diaries</a> is a regular column in Nepali Times in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working, studying abroad. The previous 50 columns can be accessed in this <a href="https://drive.google.com/file/d/1uR6pzwfR91KAezRODgDIz2FWI6m2xjPL/view">ebook</a>. Watch video of Harka Lal Bishwokarma <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rusYgB9B3rs">here</a>. <div class="embed-block"><iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/rusYgB9B3rs?si=-E3SnyAv00I3ZUm1" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" referrerpolicy="strict-origin-when-cross-origin" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>

“I have lived a simple, boring life”

Nepal’s former king Gyanendra was greeted by flag-waving supporters as he arrived at Kathmandu Airport on Sunday afternoon from Pokhara after attending pro-monarchy rallies in various parts of the country. Gyanendra and his family were escorted from the airport by supporters to his residence at Nirmal Niwas, where his family has been living since 2008 when the Constituent Assembly abolished the monarchy. The 2015 Constitution then turned Nepal into a federal democratic republic. The deposed monarch had been on a two-month long tour of religious sites and local communities across western Nepal, ending in a two-week stay in Pokhara. After staying out of controversy, Gyanendra made a statement on Nepal’s Democracy Day last month in which he said he was willing to play a role in “saving the country”. There has been a surge of pro-monarchy posts and videos on social media, where the country’s previous kings have been glorified as being nationalists who were respected by the international community.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250309120340_07b324fee8d082ed3f8566544e24d45fcd600bbb122374fc39c7a94ce3d044f2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250309120340_07b324fee8d082ed3f8566544e24d45fcd600bbb122374fc39c7a94ce3d044f2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1914" height="1276" loading="lazy" alt="The ghost of monarchy returns to haunt Nepal NT"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250309120340_769f688f3a5eb3602f4c24c350ba1caa6965a171c079d783e28db0f746b810d0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250309120340_769f688f3a5eb3602f4c24c350ba1caa6965a171c079d783e28db0f746b810d0" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="The ghost of monarchy returns to haunt Nepal NT"> </figure>  Nepal’s monarchists, which include Gyanendra’s backers, several pro-monarchist parties and other anti-government figures, think <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/new-year-same-difference">public disillusionment </a>with the country’s ageing and ineffective leaders and institutions is at breaking point.&nbsp; There is also disappointment with elected leaders and technocrats from new parties like the Rastriya Swatantra Party (RSP), with its <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/rabi-s-detention-churns-nepali-politics">leader Rabi Lamichhane under investigation</a> for his alleged involvement in a scandal involving diverting funds from cooperatives. One of the staunchest backers of Gyanendra’s comeback as king is former BBC journalist Rabindra Mishra, who has been active on social media platforms posting videos and text extolling the monarchy. He has referenced recent street uprisings in Sri Lanka, Bangladesh, and Syria, cautioning Nepal’s mainstream leaders not to dismiss support for the monarchy. ‘Support for a return to monarchy is increasing even though the mainstream parties may dismiss it,’ wrote Mishra. ‘Like the leaders of Sri Lanka and Bangladesh, they should not try to suppress the voices on the streets.’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250309120340_d8758f6b7474c9f3aea3661ccd60955d8553971cb0d799039bbfd232aa1a0691.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250309120340_d8758f6b7474c9f3aea3661ccd60955d8553971cb0d799039bbfd232aa1a0691" data-rendition-name="original" width="1890" height="1260" loading="lazy" alt="The ghost of monarchy returns to haunt Nepal NT"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250309120340_63613759744c0fac33ff3eabc298079c3e525063882f4b3760954bbc0833b5cd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250309120340_63613759744c0fac33ff3eabc298079c3e525063882f4b3760954bbc0833b5cd" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="The ghost of monarchy returns to haunt Nepal NT"> </figure>  But for all their bluster, Nepal’s mainstream politicians who have rotated leadership of the country between themselves, seem worried about the crowds on the streets in support of the monarchy. The TikTok ban last year, which the government said was to ‘maintain social harmony’ was put into effect to prevent pro-monarchy groups from organising on the platform. The ban on TikTok has now been lifted, and supporters of the monarchy have mobilised platforms to fan nostalgia of the golden age of royalty, and to brand former kings Mahendra and Birendra as <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/a-past-foretold">nationalists who upheld Nepal’s sovereignty during the Cold War</a> and commanded respect worldwide. Archival video clips of Mahendra being received by President Eisenhower in 1960 and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/if-birendra-was-alive-nepal-could-still-be-a-monarchy">Birendra </a>by President Reagan in 1983 have been liked by thousands. Comments contrast this to the incompetence and poor standing of Nepal’s current prime ministers.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250309120340_7dab05f5703e17a82da73277f0b39bf178c1005e0758aa50077ffe1a037f4af6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250309120340_7dab05f5703e17a82da73277f0b39bf178c1005e0758aa50077ffe1a037f4af6" data-rendition-name="original" width="1810" height="1206" loading="lazy" alt="The ghost of monarchy returns to haunt Nepal NT"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250309120340_1ab38cdccfd076babd78579fa345520a7b2fa9c838322226a259540c8c290437.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20250309120340_1ab38cdccfd076babd78579fa345520a7b2fa9c838322226a259540c8c290437" data-rendition-name="original" width="1812" height="1206" loading="lazy" alt="The ghost of monarchy returns to haunt Nepal NT"> </figure>  While most of the people present at the demonstration included the older demographic, younger people have especially used social media to express their support for the monarchy. Young Nepalis, disillusioned with leaders who have been prime minister multiple times since the mid-1990s, are attracted to the idea of reinstating the monarchy as a form of anti-incumbent protest, but also because they have little to no memory of living under an authoritarian absolute monarchy. ‘Those who say the monarchy is paramount today are the ones who did not live through it in the past, and are dissatisfied with the current state of affairs,’ wrote Guna Raj Luitel, Chief Editor of Nagarik Daily, in an op-ed in the newspaper on Sunday.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250309120340_720d0059207b9918def39e983d9b5c114b6afb4e7ac0ed1dadd2cba2f20f9aa6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20250309120340_720d0059207b9918def39e983d9b5c114b6afb4e7ac0ed1dadd2cba2f20f9aa6" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="The ghost of monarchy returns to haunt Nepal NT"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250309120340_bfe50ebd413d1b177ebd02df5f837038d8a04c9d343afe39be1ebcde36db893a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20250309120340_bfe50ebd413d1b177ebd02df5f837038d8a04c9d343afe39be1ebcde36db893a" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="The ghost of monarchy returns to haunt Nepal NT"> </figure>  He added: ‘For those of us who have spent parts of our lives under the rule of the king… we have not yet forgotten those days, when the institution was unable to do any useful work, a disheartening period characterised by Nepalis being unable to speak freely.’ Commentators have especially been pointing to Gyanendra’s military coup in 2005 when he dissolved parliament, and tried to take the country back to the time of absolute monarchy, just like his father Mahendra did in 1960. Gyanendra became king after his brother and most of his family were killed in the royal palace massacre in 2001. Many Nepalis still seem to believe that Gyanendra was responsible, and some of this is reflected in comments on monarchist social media posts. As the monarchist rallies spread, Prime Minister K P Oli said last week that if Gyanendra really wanted power, he should form a political party and run in the next elections in 2027. Other leaders have urged the former king to honour the 2008 Constitutional Assembly decision to abolish the monarchy, as well as Nepal’s 2015 Constitution.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250309120340_978ef979c7774312ac00d3192803d974ea57ec45d704f89663b301f4f0cc9704.jpg" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20250309120340_978ef979c7774312ac00d3192803d974ea57ec45d704f89663b301f4f0cc9704" data-rendition-name="original" width="1832" height="1221" loading="lazy" alt="The ghost of monarchy returns to haunt Nepal NT"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250309120340_d11276de0161d258f135e8fba4d3eb37d0a9e579b06a4819c6609b4ecdbbe51e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_13" data-image-id="20250309120340_d11276de0161d258f135e8fba4d3eb37d0a9e579b06a4819c6609b4ecdbbe51e" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="The ghost of monarchy returns to haunt Nepal NT"> </figure>  &nbsp;In response, royalist leaders including Kamal Thapa, Rajendra Lingden, and Rabindra Mishra have responded that the monarchy is above the electoral system, calling for the reinstatement of a constitutional monarchy in which Gyanendra would be a figurehead. “There is no question of the king contesting an election, that is our job,” said RPP-Nepal chair Kamal Thapa in a tv interview. “The monarchy is a custodian of the nation, it is an institution above electoral politics.” However, there does seem to be a disagreement between hardline royalists who want a return to absolute monarchy in which Gyanendra would actually hold executive powers, and those who favour a ceremonial one. Gyanendra recently visited Bhutan, where he was given a royal welcome, and has made several trips to India where there is some support for reinstating Nepal as the world’s only Hindu kingdom.

The ghost of monarchy returns to haunt Nepal

Kathmandu was once a lake inhabited by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/snakes-on-plains">serpents</a>, until Manjushree visiting from present-day China saw a fluorescent lotus in the water. To reach it, the sage used his flaming sword to cut a gorge <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/from-the-nepali-press/dry-port-at-chobhar-faces-resistance">at Chobhar</a>, draining the lake and turning it into a fertile valley. The Manjushree Trail Race (MTR) is inspired by this legend. There are five categories along a near-circular route around the rim of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/bringing-silicon-valley-to-kathmandu-valley">Kathmandu Valley</a>: 10k, 30k, 50k, 100k, and one that is 100 miles that is 157.7km (map, right). The 100 miles category starts at 8AM on 14 March, and runners have 52 hours until noon on 16 March to complete it. Arjun Kulung Rai’s 26:52:56 is the current record, set in 2024. “<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=17327">The Manjushree legend</a> and the perfect loop make the race very meaningful, and I wanted to do it,” says participant Dong Sheng from the northern Chinese city of Harbin who started running in 2016 with 5k until he accomplished a 100 miler in 2022. “<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/first-edition-ultra-trail-kathmandu,1050">Running </a>is spiritual, as you are always trying to overcome what you could previously do.” Sheng is one of 131 international runners who have signed up for the Manjushree race, where there are a total of 502 participants this year, 94 of them women. The first edition of the race only had 7 runners total. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepali-trail-running-champions">Nepali trail running champions</a>, Preeti Khattri “A reason this race is popular is because it is a good mix of rural and accessible,” says Jimmy Oostrom, a Dutch runner. “Often, 100-milers are way out of the way. Here, the start is only a short drive after landing in Kathmandu.”&nbsp; The 100 mile and 50km are now qualifier races for the Asia Trail Masters, an international series of trail races based in Hong Kong. Last year, a Nepali team competed and won in the Asia Trail Master Championship series in Borneo. The 100-mile category starts and finishes at Single Tree on Nagarjun, other distances have different start and end points. On the winning team was Rashila Tamang, who is part of Trailmandu that implements logistics for the race, such as recruiting and training volunteers, and marking the route. “Nepal has great <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=9938">geography</a> for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/mira-rai-racing-to-help-other-runners">trail running</a>, but it is still very hard to make it your career,” says Tamang.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025031219034_98b83aa3d42c7d5e8a2ef2f80dc03512374413e31eb55441234cd075bea7e113.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="2025031219034_98b83aa3d42c7d5e8a2ef2f80dc03512374413e31eb55441234cd075bea7e113" data-rendition-name="original" width="1244" height="598" loading="lazy" alt="Manjushree Trail map "> </figure>  The MTR has a guidebook detailing the categories, route, checkpoints, rules and what is available at each stop.&nbsp; “If we say we’re going to start at 8, we’re going to start at 8,” says Narayan Acharya, the man behind naming the race ‘Manjushree’. “People tried to sign up after the deadline, we had to tell them no.” Acharya who builds <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/foundations-for-sustainable-buildings-in-nepal">traditional rammed earth houses</a> through his company Sustainable Future Nepal, has been long involved with promoting trail running in Nepal, and hailing from Jumla himself, mentored <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/run-sunmaya-run">Sunmaya Budha</a> also from Jumla, now a trail running star in and outside Nepal. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/sunmaya-budha-stays-in-the-running">Sunmaya Budha stays in the running</a>, Vishad Raj Onta&nbsp; The organisers are sponsoring up to 50 runners from <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/portrait-of-a-photographer-in-rural-nepal">rural Nepal</a> who may not afford the Rs6,000 entry fee to participate. “It is hard to get sponsors to give us money because Nepal is still a pretty small market,” says Oostrom, currently on crutches due to an ACL injury. “We also have to take the necessary precautions to make sure we can quickly help a runner in trouble.” The logistics of an ultra trail race are more complicated than a <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=1223">marathon</a>. Marking and maintaining the trail requires careful work, especially as signs often get lost. The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/the-steadfastness-of-a-long-distance-runner">long distances </a>also require runners to run through the night.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025031219030_19111e03939541b8980007437c89966dc7a8fd6246b8407440694503bf7890a3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_15" data-image-id="2025031219030_19111e03939541b8980007437c89966dc7a8fd6246b8407440694503bf7890a3" data-rendition-name="original" width="2250" height="1501" loading="lazy" alt="Manjushree Trail "> </figure>  A <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/business/buddha-air-gets-state-of-the-art-flight-tracking-system">live tracking system </a>would ensure a runner’s safety as well as prevent cheating, but for now organisers are relying on vigilant volunteers and fellow runners to find runners needing help. There are strict rules for the race, and breaking them can result in significant time penalties or even disqualification. Get food or drink assistance outside of the checkpoints and you get a penalty of 15 minutes. Miss any pieces of mandatory gear and an hour is added to your time. Take some sort of shortcut or cheat using a vehicle, and you are disqualified. There are dangers like cliffs <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/cantilever-trail-nepal">along the trail</a>, lightning on exposed ridges, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/disasters-in-nepal-come-in-waves">landslides caused by earthquakes</a>, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/trekking-to-save-nepals-snow-leopards">leopards</a>, and hornet swarms. Ultra running takes a massive toll on the body. The brain may shut off certain areas to be able to keep going, so volunteers watch runners carefully.&nbsp; “After mile 50, your body starts digesting itself,” says Oostrom.&nbsp; Alongside Acharya and Oostrom, the organising crew is made up of race director Ashish Mishra, and Jeevan Lama and Rashila Tamang from Trailmandu. “We can execute this race well because we are all passionate runners ourselves,” says Acharya. The team has taken measures to make the race safe and comfortable for female participants. ‘Run freely, speak openly, and wear what makes you feel comfortable in our races,’ says the guidebook. Prize money is the same for male and female winners, across categories.&nbsp; Lately, Nepal has been steadily building itself as a destination for<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/taking-the-high-line"> adventure sports </a>such as <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-pushes-mountain-bike-tourism">mountain biking</a> and trail running. And with the Manjushree race, enthusiasts have hopes to set the standard for other trail races in the country. Sheng has been part of big races in China. “The better the economy, and more money people have, the more they can get involved in such pursuits,” he says. “But I have to say, for the scale of this race, everything has been done very professionally.”&nbsp;

Around Kathmandu in 100 miles

Throughout human history, civilisations have been named after the rivers along which they flourished: Indus Valley, Nile, Tigris-Euphrates. Many of these cultures later collapsed, partly because they could not manage their water needs properly. Three recent books about Himalayan rivers look at their history and geography, and how they nourished civilisations downstream. The rivers gave birth to the world’s major religions, their waters and the mountains from which they sprang were revered. Mythology and geology converge in High Asia. Mt Kailash is holy to the Hindu, Jain, Buddhist and Bon faiths as the centre of the world and the abode of the gods. Indeed, from its vicinity emerge Asia’s great rivers: the Indus and Sutlej, Ganga and the Yarlung Tsangpo (Brahmaputra) and Karnali (Mapcha Tsangpo).&nbsp; Legend has it that Kathmandu Valley was once a primordial lake drained by Manjushree who cut a mountain with his flaming sword. There is scientific evidence that the paleo lake was indeed emptied in stages starting 40,000 years ago after a tsunami unleashed by a major earthquake epicentred in Langtang. The Bon faith describes the Tibetan Plateau being pushed up from a roiling primeval sea, confirming current evidence about the orogenesis of the Himalaya. In local lore, supernatural lha (animal deities) and lu (serpents, naga) moved from sea to land, just as the theory of evolution explains the emergence of early amphibians and land creatures. In <a href="https://www.routledge.com/Rivers-of-the-Asian-Highlands-From-Deep-Time-to-the-Climate-Crisis/Gamble-Tan-Xu-Beavis-Maurer-Pittock-Powers-Wasson/p/book/9781032490595?srsltid=AfmBOopjkpgcN1_7t1jTI_Z1_27yRthBTbdHA15OWcE9Ge3S409jhUX3">Rivers of the Asian Highlands: From Deep Time to the Climate Crisis</a>, Himalayan historian <a href="https://scholars.latrobe.edu.au/rgamble">Ruth Gamble</a> and co-authors begin by tracing the genesis of the Himalaya, citing evidence that the Tibetan Plateau pre-dated the collision of the Indian and Eurasian plates 50 million years ago. Asia’s main rivers co-emerged with the mountains, their waters cutting canyons through rocks as they were uplifted. The gigantic pileup acted as a moisture trap for the proto-monsoon, the rain and ice sculpting peaks as they rose. But so strong were tectonic forces that the uplift outpaced erosion on the Tibetan Plateau. These dynamic processes are still at work, but in many places across High Asia there is a new factor at play: modern infrastructure (like haphazard road-building in Nepal) is increasing erosion faster than the uplift rate.&nbsp; ‘This is an example of human action overcoming tectonics,’ write the authors in Rivers of the Asian Highlands, in which the chapters look at Himalayan rivers from a planetary scale, their socio-cultural histories, to present-day engineering to regulate them. An ongoing dam-building spree and anthropogenic climate breakdown combine to bring about the most rapid change the Himalaya and their rivers have seen for millions of years. One example is the Medog Hydropower Station being built on the Yarlung Tsangpo at a bend on the Brahmaputra before it enters India. The river drops 2,000m within a 50km stretch, the gradient allowing it to generate 60,000MW — the biggest single hydroelectric plant in the world. Gamble and the authors of Rivers of the Asian Highlands highlight the Gravitational Potential Energy (GPE) of the Himalaya that allows falling water to be converted into electricity. But GPE also unleashes landslides, rockfalls, avalanches, Glacial Lake Outburst Floods (GLOFs) and Landslide Lake Outburst Floods (LLOFs), the risks posed by them magnified by climate change and seismicity. <blockquote>The Asian Highlands’ abundance of Gravitational Potential Energy (GPE) can support the region’s energy transition, but it needs to be produced in much less hazardous and less environmentally and socially impactful ways. The best means of doing this is through off-river, pumped-storage hydropower stations that back up solar and wind energy generators. Smaller projects such as this would also involve less risky tunneling and displacement.</blockquote> Rivers of the Asian Highlands: From Deep Time to the Climate Crisis by Ruth Gamble, et al. There is geological evidence that megafloods on Himalayan rivers are more responsible than mass wasting in weathering down the mountains. One big LLOF, for example, could ‘move 1,000 times more sediment than would otherwise be transported over millions of years’. Permafrost melting in the Tibetan Plateau and inside moraines caused recent back-to-back GLOFs in Chamoli in the Indian Himalaya, Melamchi in Nepal, and the South Lhonak in Sikkim — all deadly disasters that together destroyed billions of dollars worth of infrastructure downstream. Rivers of the Asian Highlands travels from deep time to the present climate crisis, taking readers through neatly divided chapters titled Mountain Rivers, Climatic Rivers, Frozen Rivers, Living Rivers, Human Rivers, Territorializing Rivers, Agricultural and Pastoral Rivers, even NGOs and Rivers.&nbsp; Although the book’s title is about the ‘Asian highlands’, it <a href="https://www.himalmag.com/comment/eastern-himalaya-cradle-ethnogenesis">focuses mainly on the Dri Chu (Yangtse)</a> and Yarlung Tso (Brahmaputra). Readers looking for references to Nepal’s rivers will be disappointed, although there is quite a bit about Bhutan. This is surprising because 70% of the annual flow in the Ganga is from tributaries in Nepal, some of them rivers like Karnali, Arun or Bhote Kosi that traverse the Tibetan rimlands. As demand for water and energy grows in the large and increasingly affluent population of north India, and climate breakdown melts Himalayan glaciers, storing monsoon runoff on reservoirs in Nepal is going to be the geopolitical issue of the next decades.&nbsp; The chapter on NGOs and Rivers also fails to cite the work of Nepal’s civil society groups like the Alliance for Energy that built international solidarity in 1995 against the Arun III project on a river that starts in Tibet and flows into Nepal. Ultimately, the World Bank pulled out of the project and the Nepal government invested in smaller decentralised plants. Today, a cascade of power plants are being built by Indian companies on the Arun which do not seem to have taken into account the <a href="https://www.science.org/doi/10.1126/science.ads2659">2023 Sikkim GLOF</a> that swept away the $1 billion dollar Teesta III and destroyed other infrastructure. The World Bank itself is back with the Upper Arun project located directly below expanding glacial lakes in Tibet.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250222020256_f2b33e60e6b386308bdf59b58b59e116e90e2e4466a06200faf76fd851f53505.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250222020256_f2b33e60e6b386308bdf59b58b59e116e90e2e4466a06200faf76fd851f53505" data-rendition-name="original" width="5712" height="3213" loading="lazy" alt="Teesta"> <figcaption>The Super Trisuli project in Nepal has ruined the most scenic and ecologically sensitive part of the river to generate just 100MW of power. Photo: KUNDA DIXIT</figcaption> </figure>  Despite geographical gaps, Rivers of the Asian Highlands reads like an encyclopedia of Himalayan rivers. The authors look at them not in isolation but as interconnected systems which need a multidisciplinary approach to study the geological, religio-cultural, infrastructure, climate and ecosystem services aspects of catchments.&nbsp; Mt Kailash (Kang Rinpoche) is a case in point. It is fascinating to think that it was part of a mountain range even before the collision of the continents that formed the Himalaya, and was probably buried in ice 3km thick till 15,000 years ago during the Last Glacial Maximum.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025022203020_23c02ec4671f5c3c561fa6b450c1f209720a25794e067b9bb5db0f4649b1b6dc.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2025022203020_23c02ec4671f5c3c561fa6b450c1f209720a25794e067b9bb5db0f4649b1b6dc" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Mt Kailash"> <figcaption>Mt Kailash. Photo: NABIN BARAL</figcaption> </figure>  Lake Mansarovar and Mt Kailash are also the subject of the new Nepali language book छालबाटो (Road by the Waves) by environmental journalist <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-and-china-to-study-trans-himalayan-railway">Ramesh Bhushal</a> in which he walked, rafted and drove from the source of the Karnali in Tibet, right through 500km of western Nepal, and on to India <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/dancing-with-the-river">where the river meets the Ganga</a>. In his entourage is activist, <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/Comment/rivers-fighting-back,993">Megh Ale</a>, who is on a campaign to stop dams and infrastructure on <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/dams-and-dreams-a-journey-down-the-karnali">Nepal’s longest and only free-flowing river</a>. The book profiles his lonely upstream struggle to conserve the country’s rivers. “We worship rivers, but we don’t love them,” laments Ale. Bhushal’s book is as much about the landscape of this transboundary river as it is about the people he meets along the way, and their relationship with <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/climate-denial-in-the-himalaya">a river that most regard as a curse </a>keeping them poor because they believe it flows out of Rakshas Tal (Lagngar Tso) in Tibet, regarded as a lake of demons, unlike the sacred Mansarovar nearby. The expedition is out to prove that the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/a-karnali-portrait">Karnali River</a> actually starts in the mountains 50km southwest of the Mansarovar (Mapamyu Tso) at the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jQ9Za5QDkvY">Peacock Falls (Mapchu Khambap)</a>. The Indus is called Sengge (Lion), Sutlej is Langchen (elephant) and the Brahmaputra is Tamchok (horse), all starting within 60km of Mansarovar but flowing out in different directions. <blockquote>“I have visited hundreds of rivers around the world, but for some reason I have never seen a river as beautiful as the Karnali. One day I would like to visit its source.”</blockquote> River conservation activist Megh Ale quoted in छालबाटो by Ramesh Bhusal. But all this reverence for the mountains and rivers may not be enough to save the region from the impact of climate breakdown. Heat stress in the Subcontinent will coincide with a shortage of water in the coming decades.&nbsp; <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2018/12/01/opinion/himalayas-mountains-dams.html">Sunil Amrith</a> in his 2019 book, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-monsoon-and-nature-s-arithmetic">Unruly Waters: How Mountain Rivers and Monsoons Have Shaped South Asia’s History</a> takes a broader look at how geotectonics, geopolitics, colonialism and nationalism have determined the relations between human beings and rivers. The Himalayan water cycle starts from monsoon moisture that precipitates with orographic uplift along the mountains, atmospheric rivers unleash cloudbursts, ground water emerges from springs that join up to flow down to rivers and the ocean. The Third Pole is the biggest repository of fresh water stored as ice after the polar regions. But it is a hotspot both because of the climate crisis and geopolitical tensions, which impacts on river basin cooperation, early warning data sharing, and ultimately in mitigation of greenhouse gas emission and planning for new risks faced by infrastructure. After independence, India adopted the colonial extraction model for rivers. Inaugurating the Bhakra-Nangal Dam in 1953, Jawaharlal Nehru called it “a temple of &nbsp;modern India … worthy of worship’. Gamble also alludes to this in her book about the European attitude about rivers as a resource to be ‘enclosed, extracted, scrutinised, commodified’. <a href="https://dialogue.earth/en/water/review-unrully-waters/" target="_blank">Amrith</a> profiles the work of Sir Arthur Cotton who was building canals linking rivers in British India at about the same time his contemporaries like botanist <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/republic-of-nepal-s-animal-kingdom" target="_blank">Joseph Dalton-Hooker </a>were exploring the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/saving-kangchenjunga" target="_blank">Teesta and other rivers</a> in the Himalaya to catalogue new plant species. India's current National River Linking Project that would join 37 rivers with 9,000km of canals builds on Cotton’s early work. <blockquote>If there is one consistent lesson in Unruly Waters, it is that water management never has been, and can never be, a purely technical or a scientific question; neither can it be addressed on a purely national scale … the battle continues to understand the monsoons and mountain rivers that shape Asia.</blockquote> Unruly Waters: How Mountain Rivers and Monsoons Have Shaped South Asia’s History by Sunil Amrith And in Nepal, hydropower has become the holy grail as the government unveiled an Energy Development Roadmap to generate 28,500MW by 2035 at a cumulative cost of nearly $50billion. This means no river in Nepal will be left free-flowing. The Trisuli along the Prithvi Highway is being dammed for only 100MW of power, destroying the most scenic part of a river that has rapids famous internationally for white water rafters. Even before it was completed, the dam site suffered Rs200 million in damage in last September’s flood.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025022203020_d9610a11bccb593d32bf4d214479caa17dfbdd6cdfe5e8c38fdcb8eb752fc0ec.jpg" data-media-id="editor_18" data-image-id="2025022203020_d9610a11bccb593d32bf4d214479caa17dfbdd6cdfe5e8c38fdcb8eb752fc0ec" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="2268" loading="lazy" alt="Trisuli"> <figcaption>Boulders and sediment 80m deep were brought down by the Teesta after a GLOF destroyed the $1 billion Teesta III plant in Sikkim in 2023. Photo: KUNDA DIXIT</figcaption> </figure>  In Sikkim, there is strong <a href="https://india.mongabay.com/2025/02/political-stir-follows-expert-panels-approval-to-rebuild-teesta-dam-in-sikkim/">local opposition to rebuild Teesta III</a> but investors are looking at the huge economic windfall from the river as it drops from 5,000m below Kangchenjunga to 300m within 80km — one of the highest Gravitational Potential Energy of any river in the world. Besides Nepal and Bhutan, the ‘watersheds’ of the Himalaya are turning into ‘powersheds’ as India and China compete for hydro-hegemony. India is said to be planning to dam the Brahmaputra to offset the disruption caused by China’s Medog Dam upstream (see map, below).&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025022203024_37c60bd2a45a32cd23928c900615b6c7045b2e0265050c4761c3749361181999.png" data-media-id="editor_20" data-image-id="2025022203024_37c60bd2a45a32cd23928c900615b6c7045b2e0265050c4761c3749361181999" data-rendition-name="original" width="1918" height="668" loading="lazy" alt="Himalayan rivers map"> </figure>  The thread running through all three books is the need to recognise the ecosystem services that the inhabitants of High Asia provide by protecting our rivers. Not all rivers need to be monetised, conserving rivers and the cultures they retain protects a nation’s natural wealth into the future as the humans of High Asia try to survive climate breakdown. The highlands will be under even more pressure in the coming decades as people in the plains migrate en masse to higher latitudes or higher altitudes to escape deadly heat and ocean expansion.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025022203028_524a74bf65111db3826bfd246576329c45cd4bd0a48b15024b6a520582bbf05a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_21" data-image-id="2025022203028_524a74bf65111db3826bfd246576329c45cd4bd0a48b15024b6a520582bbf05a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="River of Asian Highlands cover"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025022203028_20c17a9b92b11c8bb33df5f2fc2781498464288533c310ccd61e1245e709d99c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_22" data-image-id="2025022203028_20c17a9b92b11c8bb33df5f2fc2781498464288533c310ccd61e1245e709d99c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Unruly waters cover"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250222030212_649cc2ba02e806da2b128fccaf5de2e5c830e10646ba0b43d56da39f65a70f9f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_23" data-image-id="20250222030212_649cc2ba02e806da2b128fccaf5de2e5c830e10646ba0b43d56da39f65a70f9f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Chaalbato cover"> </figure>

Saving what is left of Himalayan rivers

Frustrated with revolving door <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-geopolitics-of-nepal-s-politics">politics</a> with the same <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/tried-tested-and-failed">tired, tested and failed </a>leaders, Nepal’s cybersphere is harking back to the good old days when we had strongmen rulers like <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/jung-bahadur-s-destitute-descendants">Jang Bahadur Rana </a>or <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/king-mahendra-didn-t-pay-hunting-bill-in-us">King Mahendra</a>. The<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/inside-story-of-nepal-s-rana-dynasty"> century-long Rana oligarchy</a> ended 74 years ago this week, and the Shah kings airbrushed <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-insect-that-changed-nepal-s-history">Nepal’s history</a> to downplay their achievements and glorify their own dynasty. After <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/if-birendra-was-alive-nepal-could-still-be-a-monarchy">the monarchy</a> was abolished in 2008, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/the-role-of-rituals-in-royalty">the Shah kings</a> were similarly vilified. But Nepali society is mature enough to realise that the truth is not all black and white. Jang Bahadur may have usurped power in a ruthless coup, but he was a geopolitical strategist way ahead of his time. Whatever you may say about King Mahendra’s efforts in quashing <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/is-democracy-too-expensive-for-nepal">democracy</a> and pushing a unitary state, he defended <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/guest-editorial/nepal-should-recognise-palestinian-sovereignty">Nepal’s sovereignty</a> and projected its international image right through the sensitive Cold War period. Jang Bahadur in England is a new Nepali language book by journalist Gajendra Budhathoki about the visit in 1850 by Nepal’s prime minister to England and France, the first by a South Asian potentate. He met Queen Victoria and by all accounts was able to establish Nepal’s presence on the world stage. Historians have long mulled why a devout Hindu like Jang Bahadur would want to break the taboo and cross the Black Waters. Budhathoki recounts the incident upon his arrival at Southampton on 2 May 1850, when British customs officials tried to check the belongings of the Nepali entourage. Furious, Jang Bahadur threatened to sail right back to France if they opened any of the bags. Jang had three main reasons for his trip. Essentially he was on a spy mission to assess <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/a-forgotten-gurkha-rebellion-e8z403ab">British military</a> might to decide if it was worthwhile for Nepal to try to militarily take back territory ceded to British India in the Sugauli Treaty of 1816. So, Jang asked his perplexed hosts to show him cannon factories, artillery and naval yards. He even visited Woolwich Arsenal (now the Royal Arsenal) not once, but three times.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/looking-back-at-the-1923-nepal-britain-treaty">Looking back at the 1923 Nepal-Britain Treaty</a>, Santa Gaha Magar Suitably impressed, Jang decided to be Britain’s BFF, and even rode down to Lucknow with 3,200 Nepali troops to rescue the British from the Sepoy Mutiny of 1857. As a reward, the British gave back the Tarai districts of Banke, Bardia, Kailali, and Kanchanpur (Naya Muluk). This close relationship continued with Jang’s descendants right till the time the British left India in 1947. Jang Bahadur was also fed up with the Governor General Lord Dalhousie in Calcutta who tended to bully Nepal, and wanted to build direct contacts with his bosses in London. The British told him Dalhousie was their man in India, and Jang should deal with him. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-way-we-were">Jang’s visit to France</a> does not get as much attention in the book, but he was also trying to gauge France’s strength and to see if its military was more powerful than Britain’s. At that time, France was Britain’s main rival and was trying to make inroads in India. At the Louvre, Jang Bahadur was drawn to exhibits reflecting French military prowess. Later, when he met Louis Napoleon III, he asked if he could see a parade of 900,000 troops to assess France’s military might.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/nepal-france-ties-in-photos">Nepal-France ties in photos</a>, Reeti KC Freshly returned from <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/a-long-way-to-europe">Europe</a>, an emboldened Jang Bahadur Rana led Nepal in a war against Tibet in 1855 which ended with the Treaty of Thapathali a year later. This was the third time Nepal and Tibet had fought, the first time being soon after <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/guest-editorial/Prithvi-Narayan-Shah-a-visionary-leader,1102">Prithvi Narayan Shah</a> in 1788.&nbsp; The Qing Dynasty came to the rescue of Tibet, and while both sides claimed victory, the Sino-Nepalese War ended essentially as a stalemate with the Treaty of Betrawati.&nbsp; All of this is detailed in Axel Michaels’ book, Nepal: A History from the Earliest Times to the Present which is a recent English translation of his German Kultur und Geschichte Nepals published in 2018.&nbsp; Michaels is a Professor of Classical Indology and Religious Studies at Heidelberg University, and writes that Nepal mattered little to China. Proof of this is that while both Nepal and Tibet agreed to accept the suzerainty of the Qing emperor following the war, Nepal managed to retain its autonomy but Beijing asserted its control over <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/business/himalaya-to-lhasa">Lhasa</a>. And despite a clause in the treaty which stated, ‘if a foreign power attacks Nepal, China shall support Nepal’, China never did so during the1814–16 war with the East India Company.&nbsp; This practice has continued to this day. Aside from token petroleum shipments, Beijing did not help out Nepal during the Indian Blockade of 2015. Even though Nepali leaders have tried to play India off against China, the two do not find Nepal important enough to fight over and prefer to leave it as a buffer state between them.&nbsp; In that sense, Britain also did not press home its victory after 1816 and left Nepal alone. The malarial jungles to the south, rugged Himalayan terrain and the lack of marketable products (except soldiers) may have persuaded the traders at the East Indian Company that it was not worth the effort. There is a lesson from history here for Nepal: the country must look out for itself, and this requires deft diplomacy to understand what our giant neighbours really want and leverage it for our gain. This may require strategies like the ones made by Jang Bahadur and King Mahendra after all. Michaels is not a fan of either the Rana or the Shah dynasties. He says that although the Rana era is characterised as ‘a century of tyranny’, the description holds true for the Shah period as well.&nbsp; Michaels does not mince his words about Gurkha recruitment into the British and Indian Armies (another legacy of the Sugauli Treaty). He calls the mercenaries ‘cheap labour’ and Pushpa Kamal Dahal ‘represents a continuation of the King-Brahmin alliance’. In fact, he goes at length to discuss how the Khas-Arya used ‘Hindu state’ to homogenise a country that couldn’t have been more diverse. But democracy has not served Nepal well either. Corruption, impunity and lack of transparency are rife. And so, Michaels asks if Nepal is a failed state. No it is not, but it is a fragile state. He leaves us with these parting words: ‘If Nepal succeeds in continuing down this road, preserving its ethnic and cultural diversity, leaving the ethnic populations with a certain degree of autonomy, while at the same time integrating them into political decision-making processes, and if it manages the reforms needed for land-ownership, labour, education, infrastructure, then the country can become a model for unity in diversity, even in the age of leveling globalisation.’&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250222070248_a32db0a1e39c4a3a5158af81bbcf927aeb96524bcbc6b41086a223685642b367.jpg" data-media-id="editor_17" data-image-id="20250222070248_a32db0a1e39c4a3a5158af81bbcf927aeb96524bcbc6b41086a223685642b367" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Jang Bahadur in England "> </figure>  &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250222070252_e2fa5309f10d36f963243c24ea06d7d354d3dfaf24c7ef283d70369fbeabd02e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_18" data-image-id="20250222070252_e2fa5309f10d36f963243c24ea06d7d354d3dfaf24c7ef283d70369fbeabd02e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal Book"> </figure>  &nbsp;

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