<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410118/637205b09c7e80680e0b28cejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1118" height="531"/><figcaption>Kathmandu's dense settlement as seen from Halchok.</figcaption></figure>Owning a house is a mark of success in Nepal — much more so than elsewhere. And if that house is in Kathmandu Valley, then you have really made it.You might have a stable job and family, but unless you have a roof over your head that you own you are not settled by society standards. It could be a small house and the tiny plot, as long as it is yours.<a style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=15757#.YfSXGS2B2t8" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Owning a house</a> is part of our everyday conversation in households. There is always someone talking about how they are building their house, how there is no water coming out of an expensive bore well, how a neighbour built a multi-story structure and blocked out all the sunlight.Homes hold a special place in our society that very few other things can match and it is reflected in our numbers too.Nepal may lag in several economic and human development indicators, but when it comes to home ownership rates, it is far ahead of the rest. Some 85% of Nepali households live in homes they own. Proportinately, more people in Nepal own the houses they live in than in the US, UK, and Germany.Most other countries with higher home ownership rates than Nepal, such as Singapore and Russia, were able to achieve it due to their strong social housing programs. The fact that so many Nepali families own their <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=6200#.YfSXGS2B2t8" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">own houses</a> with little governmental support is remarkable. Nepalis prize homes as their most important investment.But even with this high home ownership rate, thousands of new houses are built every year, feeding <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-vanishing-land/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">the urban sprawl</a>. New apartments and housing projects come up to address demand.And yet, there are never enough houses to meet that growing demand. More and more cultivable agricultural land and green space are being turned into housing plots.Economically, it makes more sense for Nepalis to own their own house, even if it is at the very edge of the city. Unlike wealthier nations where buildings generally follow a standard national code for health and safety, most homes in Nepal function as isolated and self-sufficient units.Germany, for example, has laws that require housing units to have regular access to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/getting-our-shit-together/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">water and sewage</a>, Nepal has no such centralised directive. A house in a Berlin neighbourhood will have roughly the same level of access to water and garbage collection as the one next to it.A house in one Kathmandu neighbourhood may have a running water and sewage system, but only if the owner is able to drill for water and have a septic tank.In the US, if landlords build a house with cheap construction materials and endangers the lives of tenants, they can be taken to court and prosecuted. In Nepal tenants are completely dependent on the whims of the landlord.So, it makes sense that people would want to move into their own house where they can make their own choices rather than live under the tyranny of someone else.Even if the landlord is agreeable and the living environment acceptable, renting is not a long-term, financially sound solution. Given how the rents have soared in the cities, it makes more economic sense to build one’s own home.Houses in Nepal are not just places of shelter, but also of income. Owning a house doesn’t just save rental money it can also earn rental cash. In a country with very few mature investment opportunities, a home is a nest-egg. Many Nepali families sell off their homes in times of acute need: to send a family member abroad, pay hospital bills or marry off children.Homes become important at festival time, and Nepali culture places a lot of emphasis on communal gathering and cooking, all things that are more conducive in personally owned houses.Nepal has always had a <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/ground-reality-of-landlessness-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">historical home-ownership culture</a>. Until very recently, most of Nepal’s population lived in rural areas where land is plentiful and houses are built with local materials. There were few constraints on building and owning a home. Houses were within the reach of many people, creating a cultural legacy towards home ownership that has persisted.Ultimately, there is a universal and innate desire to own your own home.  In archaeological remains all over the world, we see human settlements created with a meticulous level of care.From the earliest cave paintings, humans have been decorating and creating a material environment. Building technology may have advanced, but this fundamental human desire to elevate personal space from a place of rest to one with meaning has not changed.Homes are where we spend the most time, they are where we create memories. They are an extension of ourselves. How they are built and look end up becoming a reflection of how we think, act and behave. That is why we seek to permanently own this extension.By owning our own house, we give ourselves more freedom. In the end, home is where the heart is, and who would not want to own their own heart?Avani Adhikari is a student of Economics and Urban Planning in Singapore.

Avani Adhikari

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Home is where the heart is

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111011114/636ccd339c7e80680e08bc62jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1627"/><figcaption>Photo: PRATIBHA TULADHAR</figcaption></figure>There is never a perfect time to have children because there is always something happening in your life. Either they are too young or too old, they are not financially stable enough or ready for the responsibilities or want to travel.No one else but the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/all-in-mind/the-choice-of-women-to-have-or-not-to-have-baby-should-be-respected,547" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">woman should decide when it is the right time</a> for her to have children. Sometimes, telling a woman that there is never a right time may end up in her having children at the wrong time, for the wrong reasons. Many of us know someone who decided to have a baby to save their marriage or due to societal pressure.“Women are born with a certain number of eggs and as women age, it is harder for women to conceive due to a decrease in the number considerably. Also, women may have a certain percentage of ‘abnormal’ eggs that when fertilised may result in miscarriages,” explains physician Sujan Rajbhandari Joshi. “It does become difficult for women to conceive after the age of 35, not saying that it is impossible or hopeless, but the probability of having a successful pregnancy is much higher at 25 or 30 compared to 35 or 40.”It is important to consider nature and biology when it comes to having children, although the magic of modern science has made many things possible. I know women who have had their first child at 40 and I know women who have been struggling to have children in their 20s— these experiences are subjective.Biologically speaking, a woman is physically healthy to bear children from her late teens to her early 20s. Fertility can also depend on age and genetics, so the sooner a woman can decide what she wants or does not want, the easier it is for her to work towards it.Preserving her fertility, or learning if she has any health issues such as polycystic ovarian syndrome, endometriosis or genetic history of reproductive issues, may affect her ability to get pregnant as discovered by many women. If you know you want children for sure but happen to be unsure when, it helps to know the best time to start <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/freezing-a-future-family-IVF-embryo-surrogacy,3881" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">freezing your eggs</a>.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kWqYSl-8tFQThere are ways of having children in the late 30s and 40s, but it may be more expensive and difficult because fertility treatments and <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/embryos-on-the-move,3162" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">In-Vitro Fertilisation</a> (IVF) may not always be successful. Another important factor is that if you have a male partner, his age will also affect his fertility and that may determine whether you can have kids.It is important to respect women’s privacy because some women may be trying to conceive without telling their family and friends, they may have suffered miscarriage or encountered unsuccessful IVF treatments. So telling them there is no right time, without even knowing what they have been through, would be cruel and hurtful. We can only plan and control so much about having a baby, the rest is up to chance.Also, it is important that you and your partner are on the same page about having and raising a baby, so you must consider if they want to be a parent too. The help and support of family do affect a woman’s ability to raise a child because affluent families have more resources to raise kids compared to someone from a low socioeconomic background.In Nepal, the pressure on women to have male children to continue to family lineage is just as great. Maya,32, is a successful working professional who has been married for five years. “I get pressure from my in-laws to have a child, preferably male. It makes me feel like everything I have done so far in life is inadequate. First it was the pressure to marry and now to have a child. Should I have a child for society if I have no desire to be a mother?” she questions.Are you willing to give up your spontaneous life of socialising to wake up in the middle of the night for a baby? Are you willing to give up the joys of being a mother to have a successful and happy career? There are sacrifices and losses on both sides and understanding what they entail would help a woman decide.If you did not want children for years and suddenly decide at 50 or 60 that you want to be a mother, you may be able to adopt a baby, but you must consider if it is in the best interest of the child. It is not enough to want to be a mother, but also important to be a good mother.Every decision related to having a baby has consequences. Factors, such as your age and fertility, financial stability, support of a partner, job, family, ambitions and how much are you willing to give up for what you want should be taken into account. This major decision can cause confusion and anxiety, and clash with other expectations.It is easy to allow society, parents, or your own biological clock to tell you that time is running out and feel guilt and shame for not wanting what a woman ‘should’ want. What other people say or what you read may influence your thoughts and views. But, you have to be honest with yourself, take the time to listen to your inner voice and do what you know is right for yourself.Anjana Rajbhandary writes this fortnightly Nepali Times column Life Time about socio-cultural issues, mental health and physical health.

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<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101136/636b74ef9c7e80680e0623bejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="910" height="607"/>Today is my 23rd day of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/a-nepali-in-beijing-during-coronavirus-scare/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">isolation in my apartment</a> in Shanghai, my 23rd day of living in solitude and not going outdoors, not speaking with anyone in person. This has been the longest silence of my life.When <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/why-nepal-must-watch-about-coronavirus-but-not-panic/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">the coronavirus</a> first struck China, I entered a deep panic, as did next to everyone I knew. After some days of cloistered existence, however, the crisis started to show us its instructive side. In Chinese, the word for ‘crisis’, 危机, is composed of two characters, one representing danger and the other representing opportunity. Like the union of Yin and Yang, everything has two sides: there is opportunity behind every crisis, but it takes courage and wisdom to see it.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/a-nepali-in-beijing-during-coronavirus-scare/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">A Nepali in Beijing during coronavirus scare</a>, Rastraraj BhandariOpportunity #1: To slow downChina has been on hyper mode for many years. GDP growth seems to be the single measure of success here and the country operates like a machine set at maximum speed. As an individual I am a part of that machine. I know it’s important to slow down to review and reflect, but I don’t have the courage to pull the brakes when the system around me is spinning crazily. This winter, the brakes of the system itself were pulled suddenly, by the coronavirus.The whole country ground to a halt. We had the longest holiday in history. Putting away anxieties about GDP growth and about climbing the social ladder, people stopped being cogs in a machine and returned to being human beings.My own experience has been that I have been able to ask myself what is truly important to me. I have started to read books not about productivity and how to get to the next level in my career, but about humanity and the meaning of life. No longer on autopilot, I have been able to step out of my programming and to live more consciously, to make more deliberate choices.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/why-nepal-must-watch-about-coronavirus-but-not-panic/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Why Nepal must watch Coronavirus, but not panic</a>, Sameer M DixitOpportunity #2: To bond with familyIn the busy modern lives we live here in urban China, each of us always has our own agenda to follow, our own bucket list of things to do, our own personal ambitions to fulfill. Spending time with our elders perhaps does not even make it into the top five of our priorities. But the coronavirus cleared that obstacle for us. It brought us the unexpected gift of precious time with our families, time that many of us had not realized we had been missing.The voice of one friend of mine trembled as she shared with me her feelings after getting to spend two weeks with her parents. My friend is 55 and her parents are in their nineties. “It’s the first time in my life that I have been with them like this and I had never before this imagined myself connecting with them so deeply,” she said, “No rushes, no agenda, no to-do list, just spending time with them, listening to them, teaching them to meditate, sharing my world with them, and understanding their fears and joys. It felt like a life gift.”For a younger friend the shut-down was an opportunity to get to know his grandparents. “Like most Chinese families, my parents moved out of their hometown to a big city when I was four years old. I haven’t been back for years, but this year I got to spend extra time with them, hearing their stories from when they were young. For the first time, I got to know their full names and came to see them as human beings and not simply as a ‘grandma’ abstraction.”For another young friend, the virus scare recalibrated her relationship with her parents. “I have been very independent since college and enjoy the freedom of being on my own after years of restrictions. I used to call my parents only once a month. But because of the coronavirus I could not go home to celebrate Chinese New Year with them, and I also worried for their safety. The coronavirus made me reflect on my relationship with my family. I realised that I wanted to be in touch and to know more about what is happening in my parents’ lives.”Many others have shared with me such stories of “first times” with their families. When things slowed down, we came to recognize our human need to connect and to share with the ones we love. The virus shed light on the things that we take for granted and reminded us of how precious they are.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/coronavirus-outbreak-may-curb-wildlife-trafficking/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Covid-19 outbreak may curb wildlife trafficking</a>, Sonia AwaleOpportunity #3: CommunityModern life has trained us to live in isolation: to compete rather than collaborate, to be independent rather than interdependent, individualistic rather than community-minded. The crisis has taught us the opposite. Instead of thinking about personal achievement, in this moment of shared difficulty we have thought about how we can connect with others and make things happen together.Though most people are keeping indoors, online communities have been more active than ever. Numerous WeChat groups were created overnight, offering free online coaching, counseling, meditation, and all manner of nurturing support. Various organisations provided recordings of talks aimed at helping people relieve anxiety. Some groups offered simple online fireside sharing, which was healing for people and helped them stay connected.Once again, the crisis reminded us that we were human beings, not robots. And that human beings have a deep longing for love, belonging and connection, that these things matter more to us than career advancement or material gain.The evolution of personal awareness and consciousness, as we have seen happen in many ways during the coronavirus scare, leads to our being able to contribute to creating a better world. This is why I see the crisis as having a huge silver lining. May it be instructive and teach us to start the new decade in a reflective, fresh, and new way. Stay strong, China.I would like to share a poem written this week by a friend:In the days I was kept indoorsI saw myself startTo smell the scents of a flower To feel the rhythm of rain dropsTo see the light of sunriseTo see beauty in every small thing in lifeAlso, I reminded myself to start To see the truth as it itTo grow myself inwardsTo make a difference with my presenceTo speak to my heartTo love,  truly and authentically.Marcia Chen is a business professional based in Shanghai.

Covid-19: Both danger and opportunity

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101112/636b6fce9c7e80680e060043jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2481" height="1656"/><figcaption>Amitabha Bagchi reeives the DSC prize 2019 from Pradeep Kumar Gyawali, Minister for Foreign Affairs, at Nepal Literature Festival in Pokhara in December 2019</figcaption></figure>There is not much to add about Amitabha Bagchi’s Half  The Night Is Gone that has not already been said. The winner of this year’s <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/2019-shortlist-announced-for-dsc-prize/">DSC Prize for South Asian Literature</a>, awarded at the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-and-international-literature-festival/">Nepal Literature Festival in Pokhara</a> last month, the book has been readily deemed the ‘Great Indian Novel’ of our time.Bagchi sets most of his novel in Delhi, with parts in Agra and Banaras. Writing in pre-independence times, Dilli’s rich lore and the old ganga jamuni tehzeeb of North India is woven beautifully into the novel – with intercuts of a harder, less forgiving modern-day shown in letters between chapters.Bagchi carefully constructs his plot – a long winded ambitious tale that tells the story of two families and their men sprawling across generations. This story is told by the fictional, award-winning Hindi novelist, Vishwanath, who takes breaks to pen letters to his brother, his dead son’s girlfriend and his estranged wife.Goswami Tulsidas’s Ramcharitmanas (an Awadhi retelling of Ramayana) undercuts the novel being written within the novel, with additional Sanskrit sloka, Hindi-Urdu couplets, and Qur’anic hadith referenced throughout, each with an English translation. Bagchi’s greatest feat is the way the quoted verses always add to the narrative, never distracting or pulling a reader away. As <a href="https://www.thehindu.com/books/waiting-for-the-monkeys-return-review-of-amitabha-bagchis-half-the-night-is-gone-by-shreevatsa-nevatia/article24714584.ece">The Hindu</a> put it, this is not an ‘Indian novel in English’, it is an Indian novel.The men Vishwanath writes about are deeply flawed and violent – they beat, rape and abandon their wives (stylistically depicted as ‘claiming their conjugal rights’) and yet, somehow, they are always portrayed as layered and interesting individuals. The writing is confusing, it is unclear if the framing of women as always youthful, inherently lustful and scheming is meant to highlight the predicament of women in Indian society or if Vishwanath is just a bad writer.Whatever the motivation, it is the novel's glaring fault. It is difficult to read  Omvati (She manages to get a name – something not every female character in the novel is granted) who is molested by her father in law, and as she stabs and wounds him in a ‘… a coruscating sweep that left her quivering. She felt arousal’.Later in the novel, her husband reaches for her and Omvati throws up again and again. In response, her husband beats and bribes her and ‘takes to visiting prostitutes’. There is never an effort to depict her inner feelings and trauma – only his frustration.Bagchi is a gifted storyteller, creating varied and interesting relationships between his characters both within their families and across them. Diwanchand, the younger son of Lala Motichand, is so devoted to Tulsida Ramcharitmanas, he leaves his inheritance, wife and child to dedicate his life to the work.Makhan Lal, Lala Motichand’s illegitimate child, is a Marx-loving schoolteacher who resents his father. Vishwanath is devastated by his son’s death in a road accident, and only in his grief does he begin to try and repair his relationships. It is only the caricatures of women that leave an unfortunate stain on the novel, a book that otherwise speaks to nostalgia, of interfaith harmony and complex family dynamics.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101116/636b6fd19c7e80680e060044jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="643">Half The Night Is GoneBy Amitabha BagchiJuggernaut, New Delhi, 2018320 pages    550 INRISBN:978-9386228703

A nostalgic Hindustani novel

<figure><img width="960" height="720" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141152/636a5f779c7e80680e056e2ejpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Bandana Timalsina reaches out to touch her husband‘s face one last time before his cremation at Pashupati in August. Kedar Timalsina hung himself at a seafood factory in Busan where he worked. Photos: Ki Mindo/ The Seoul Shinmun</figcaption></figure>For many Nepalis, it is dream to find work in Korea where they expect to earn many times more than in Nepal. Yet, there is a dark side to the Korean Dream: between 2009 to 2018, there were 143 deaths of Nepali workers in South Korean soil, and of them 43 were suicides.The 31% suicide rate is much higher than workers from other nationalities. Among Burmese workers, there was a total of 51 deaths and 4 involved suicide, from 2011 to August 2019. Suicides rate is relatively low among Vietnamese migrant workers with zero suicide out of the 14 deaths from 2017 to August 2019.Most of these deaths involved E-9 non-professional employment visa holders who had been employed at farms and factories that suffer a chronic labour shortage. While these tragic deaths repeat every year, the South Korean government does not have a clue why so many migrant workers make such an extreme choice."Nepali migrant workers who come to South Korea under the employment permit system tend to be highly educated," notes Seo Seonyoung, a Sociology researcher at Yonsei University. “Their families have great expectation for them, but as soon in Korea they find themselves at the lowest rung of the workforce ladder. The unbearable stress could eventually force them to commit suicide." <figure><img width="960" height="720" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141152/636a5f7a9c7e80680e056e2fjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>A mother holds the photograph of her son, who suffered from depression while working in South Korea, and died after he returned. There have been 43 suicides by Nepali workers in Korea between 2009-2018.</figcaption></figure>There are growing voices calling for a systematic improvement to end the vicious cycle. The South Korean government has been trying to improve ties as part of its 'New Southern Policy' to balance its need for migrant workers to address the shortfall of workers.There are now 2.42 million migrant workers in Korea, and the number has nearly doubled in the past 10 years. Local farms and factories cannot function without migrant workforces.Hong Sung Soo, Law professor at Sookmyung Women's University says: "Discrimination and xenophobia towards migrants are not only inappropriate, but also not clever at all if we consider our industrial and demographic reality."Labour rights groups and health activists have been trying to find out why there is such a high suicide rate among Nepali migrant workers in farms and factories in South Korea."It is not just a single factor, there is a web of complex reasons that trap migrant workers towards the extreme choice," explains Jeong Young-seob, Co-director of the group, Migrants Act.A field survey in August of 141 migrant workers from Nepal by the Seoul Shinmun newspaper, Green Hospital and the Migrants Trade Union showed that there were four main factors: gap between expectation and reality of working in Korea, lack of exit, high expectations from loved ones back home, and ruined relationships in Nepal.Great Expectations = Great DisappointmentsTo aspiring Nepali migrant workers, South Korea is a land of opportunity, where they hope to earn five to eight times more than in a job back home. Even highly educated young Nepalis apply for an E-9 visa to South Korea. But when they arrive, they often struggle with harsh labour conditions and discrimination. Of the respondents in the survey, 28% cited a gap between the reality of their work and the expectations they had. Like Surendra, 28, who has been working in a mushroom farm for three years. He has a degree from Tribhuvan University.He says: "Before I came here, I was excited about earning Rs300,000 a month, but I had no idea about working and living conditions. Back home we rarely experience working for 12 hours without any real break. I was not even learning any skills, it was simple manual labour.”The survey showed that 45.6% of the respondents worked more than 52 hours a week, and 19% said they worked 60 hours a week, and only 26% said they had a normal 5-day work week.No ExitAfter working in South Korea for 16 months, Nepali migrant worker Shrestha, 27, jumped from the rooftop of his company dorm in June 2017. He had been suffering from insomnia as he struggled to adjust to alternate day and night shifts. His suicide note said: ‘I have been seeing doctors for health problems and sleep disorders. It did not improve. I wanted to quit and find another job but the company did not allow it. I wanted to go back to Nepal to recover, but the company said no.’ The survey showed that 71% of respondents had tried to find a new job, and 36% of them said this was because of long working hours and dangerous conditions.Migrant workers who come to South Korea under the employment permit system are allowed to change workplaces up to three times within a three-year period. But it requires permission from their employers.Hard WorkNo matter how harsh and hostile the work environment in Korea, returning to Nepal is not an option for most. It was not easy for them to come to Korea in the first place, and they carry the weight of their family's expectations on their shoulders."If migrant workers go back, the villagers would criticise them for forsaking a great opportunity, people will laugh at their failure and brand them weak. Caught between a rock and a hard place, many Nepali migrant workers commit suicide," explained Udaya Rai, the Nepali head of the Migrants Trade Union.Ruined RelationshipsWhat sustains migrant workers despite harsh working conditions in Korea is love of families back home. However, when their relationship collapses, it leads to great emotional stress. Tej Bahadur Gurung, 29, had two friends who committed suicide due to family or relationship problems.Kham Gurung, 45, recalled: "I had to deal with a family issue while I was working non-stop in Korea, but I couldn't afford to go back. That really tormented me."Naivety and lack of exposure to the outside world among Nepali youth who need better jobs to take care of their families creates a problem, says Kapil B Dahal of the Department of Anthropology at Tribhuvan University in Kathmandu.Dahal says there have been no systematic study of suicides among Nepali migrant workers in Korea, or elsewhere. The Korean Ministry of Justice keeps a record of the deaths of migrant workers by country, but does not have data on the cause of death."Nepali migrant workers in the Middle East and Europe also commit suicides, yet the Nepal government and politicians do not do anything. Nepali migrant workers make a great contribution to the country's economy, but their health is overlooked and their suicides are ignored," Dahal says.The Nepal Embassy in Seoul offers counseling services for migrant workers, but Udaya Rai of the Migrant Trade Union questioned its effectiveness. "They are not interested in addressing these deaths and suicides, they fear the South Korean government might slash the quota for Nepalis if we start to speak up. That is why they stay silent and hurriedly send bodies back to Nepal." <figure><img width="960" height="720" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141152/636a5f7d9c7e80680e056e30jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Wrapped in cardboard, the coffin containing the remains of Kedar Timalsina arrives at Kathmandu airport in September.</figcaption></figure>Kedar Timalsina, 28 A coffin was rolled out of the arrival area of Kathmandu airport recently. Inside was the body of Kedar Timalsina who hanged himself on 20 July in Busan inside the warehouse of the seafood processing factory where he worked."This paper doesn't say anything about why Kedar killed himself," family members at Kathmandu airport said, examining his death certificate from South Korean police.Kedar’s family could not understand why he would kill himself. It had been only 25 days since his wife Bandana gave birth to their first son. "I even heard Kedar threw a big party in Korea to celebrate the birth of the baby. Why would such a man kill himself? It doesn't make any sense," said Bandana’s brother. Kedar had an aging mother who just turned 60, and would need his care more than before.What further frustrates the grieving family is the silence and indifference from both their government and the Korean authorities. For the Nepal Embassy in Seoul its responsibility was over after shipping the coffin to Kathmandu. South Korean police never investigated surveillance camera footage at the factory, or forensics on Kedar’s phone. <figure><img width="960" height="720" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141152/636a5f809c7e80680e056e31jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Bandana Timalsina with her son in her lap at their home in Dong Kharka village in September. The baby was only 25 days old when her father Kedar Timalsina took his own life while working at a factory in South Korea. </figcaption></figure>According to South Korean police, Kedar’s co-worker had told them he had recently purchased some land in Nepal, which turned out to be a fraud. Kedar’s family says that is not true because the land he bought two years ago had nearly doubled in price. None of Kedar’s personal belongings were returned to his family, and Korean police said the Embassy had told them the family did not want them back. The family said the Embassy had never contacted them about his belongings."We are responsible for confirming the identity and death certificate in order to promptly return the body back to family in Nepal. The Embassy does not send back items unless they are important," the Embassy of Nepal replied when asked about it.At the cremation site in Pashupati, Bandana wept as she caressed her husband’s face for the last time. “What do I do with our baby?” she cried. It took four hours for the fire to consume Kedar’s body, and with it his ‘Korean Dream’. <figure><img width="960" height="720" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141152/636a5f829c7e80680e056e32jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Maiya Gurung looks at a picture of her daughter with her husband Bal Bahadur Gurung, who committed suicide by jumping off a bridge in Seoul in June. After failing to secure a new job, Gurung was facing deportation back to Nepal. </figcaption></figure>Bal Bahadur Gurung, 32 "He really loved the children. These kids remind me of my husband every time I see them," said Maiya Gurung, 28, wiping tears with a tissue under her shades.Maiya's husband Bal Bahadur Gurung jumped off the Wolleung Bridge in Seoul, on 12 June, and died instantly after being hit by a passing vehicle. CCTV footage showed Bal Bahadur walking nervously back-and-forth over the bridge several times, hesitating. He had become an ‘unregistered’ migrant two days ago, and feared deportation.Bal Bahadur entered South Korea with a proper work visa in October 2017. In March, he left the company and registered himself at the Ministry of Labor to find another job. Migrant workers automatically lose their right to stay in the country if they fail to secure employment within three months. Bal Bahadur went back to Nepal to spend a short time with his family then returned to Korea, but had no luck finding a job within the three month deadline.Maiya Gurung came to South Korea to take her husband’s remains. Her neighbours tell her that her husband looked so happy when he was visiting Pokhara two months before his suicide. Shocked by his youngest son’s tragic death, Bal Bahadur’s father, a former soldier, is suffering from amnesia.Maiya’s seven-year-old daughter asks her: “Did Daddy die?”“No,” she replies, “your father has gone abroad to work." Maiya Gurung weeps as she tells us later, “I want to die, too. But when I think of these poor children, I can't." <figure><img width="720" height="960" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141152/636a5f859c7e80680e056e33jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Dhan Raj Ghale’s hand-written suicide note in English. He took his own life eight years ago in Korea after an altercation with a Mongolian worker.</figcaption></figure>Dhan Raj Ghale, 40 ‘I am enocent. I have no mistake. Company cheating me. I am no crazy […] company take my signiture [...] please investigation please’ This is the note left by Dhan Raj Ghale’s hand-written suicide note in English before he hanged himself in 2011 while working at a futon factory in Daegu City. Dhan even had a plane ticket booked to go back to Nepal.Upon seeing a Korean reporter in August in Pokhara, Dhan’s wife Man Maya Ghale, 48, and Dhan’s younger brother Bhim Raj Ghale, 36, recalled the events of eight years ago.Bhim said his older brother was a hard-working man who loved his family more than anything else in the world. “After seeing the letters, I thought Dhan must have been bullied at work,” Bhim recalled.Dhan also left another short letter written in Nepali: ‘I’ve done nothing wrong. I once fought with another worker from Mongolia. I don’t know what that Mongolian guy told Korean people…’He also wrote twice to the manager of the company: ‘You don’t talk to me anymore. I don’t understand. Please tell me why.’ <figure><img width="960" height="720" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141152/636a5f879c7e80680e056e34jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Dhan Bahadur Ghale's brother Bhim with his suicide note at the family home in Pokhara in September.</figcaption></figure>The company, however, denied there was bullying, and that Dhan was never asked to sign any document. Dhan may have found Korea’s alternate day and night shifts difficult, and had been working night shifts for two months before his death. “My husband told me he could not sleep when he was working night shifts,” Man Maya recalled.Dhan’s daughter and son were ten and five at the time of their father’s death. Now they are in college and school. "I will never forgive those people who mistreated my father,” Dhan's son vows revenge, and the siblings have made joint promises to themselves they will never go overseas to work no matter what.Nevertheless, Man Maya and Bhim said they did not hate Koreans. “You see in South Korea, as well as in Nepal, there are good people and bad people. Sadly, my husband met bad people. I don’t want to blame all Koreans because of them. I just want those bad ones to be punished.”Some names have been changed.Ki Mindo is a reporter for The Seoul Shinmun key5088@seoul.or.kr These articles are reprinted under special arrangement with the Seoul Shinmun which published the <a href="https://www.seoul.co.kr/news/newsView.php?id=20191001500198">stories</a> in Korean on 23 September, 2019 as part of a Special Series titled 'The 2019 Migrant Report: Betrayed Korean Dreams'.More stories from Nepali Times on Nepalis in Korea:<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Korean-kafala-migrants-in-Korea,4025">Korea Kafala</a> by Om Astha Rai and Seulki Lee in Seoul<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Korea-treating-Nepali-migrant-workers-right,2813">Doing it the right way</a> by Seulki Lee<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/interview/interview-with-Korean-ambassador-Choi-Yong-Jin,2767">“Hope Nepal’s difficulties end soon” </a> Interview with Korean Ambassador hoe Yong Jin

Dead end of the Korean Dream

<figure><img width="1400" height="934" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110811110/636a29569c7e80680e0458bejpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Photo: SONIA AWALE</figcaption></figure>I'm not sure how to tell my story. There is so much pain inside me that I never get to share … I am terrified to voice them.” Originally from Chapagaun, Rupa Maharjan used to travel to Patan every day for work. Born in a poor farming family, she never went to school. So, getting a job even as a daily wage worker at a metal craft factory in the city meant a lot. <img width="430" height="210" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110811110/636a29599c7e80680e0458bfjpeg.jpg" alt="">Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/3-4th-of-the-sky/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">3/4th of the sky</a>, Editorial<a style="font-weight: bold; letter-spacing: 0.01em; background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepals-better-halves/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepal's better halves</a>, Anil Chitrakar <a style="letter-spacing: 0.15px; background-color: #ffffff; outline: 0px; font-weight: 600;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/staying-alive/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Staying alive</a>, Sewa BhattaraiThis is also where she met Babu Ratna Maharjan. They were soon married and lived happily despite limited resources. But seven years later, Babu Ratna was diagnosed with brain tumour. His family had to sell a part of the ancestral land to pay for his treatment, but first they had to win a court battle against relatives.The money was soon gone, and so was Rupa’s husband. He was 30, she was 29 and her son Bishal was eight. She shared an old three-storey house in Kapinche Tole of Patan with her in-laws, two brothers-in-laws and their families. Half of Bishal’s school fees was sponsored by a monastery, but she had to work herself to the bone to pay the other half. Read also: <a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/a-house-for-the-nepali-family/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The house for the Nepali family</a>, Sewa Bhattarai<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/surviving-the-aftermath/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Surviving the aftermath</a>, Sonam Choeyki Lama<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/staying-positive/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Staying positive</a>, Sewa Bhattarai When earthquake struck on 25 April 2015, she and her son lost their home. But her husband’s oldest brother kindly decided to give her his share of the house, and with a Rs400,000 bank loan Rupa has started rebuilding. She was not eligible for the government’s reconstruction grant, as the design did not meet the standards set by the National Reconstruction Authority.Rupa is now 39, but her small, thin frame, tired eyes and wrinkled hands make her look frail. She shows a visitor around the building, which is still under construction four years after the earthquake. She shares a tiny bedroom with her son and the open kitchen is bare. “I will continue pushing myself for my son’s future, he is all I have got left, and I am all he has,” says Rupa. “I worry about being able to afford his higher studies because I still have to pay off my loans.” Rupa’s job at the metalcraft shop entails working with solvents to clean metal for gold plating, and this has given her allergies. The work is also not paying as much because Kathmandu’s handicraft industry is suffering due to cheap Chinese imports. Bishal is now 16 and will be taking his Secondary School Examination later this year. Unlike other boys his age at school who are exploring their interests and planning ahead for engineering and computer science studies, Bishal does not have big dreams and is considering to learn Chinese and become a tour guide."All I know is that I have to support my mom as soon as possible," says Bishal, who can barely bring himself to mention his father who could have guided him.  “My nephew has accepted the reality of our family and does not ever demand a thing,” said Rupa’s brother-in-law, Karma, 50. “I worry he won’t be able to continue his studies and that he will end up not having a choice in what does in life, just like us.”The next morning, it is just another day for Rupa Maharjan as she prepares a simple meal for her son before he goes off to attend extra tutorials to prepare for his exams. Then she is off to the workshop, where she will spend next eight hours bringing bronze figures of deities to life.

Sonia Awale

Making gods for a living

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110811110/636a29619c7e80680e0458c4jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="1078"/><figcaption>Photo: BIKRAM RAI</figcaption></figure>At 65, Ishwori Bhandari is a happy-go-lucky woman. She has no family, no obligations, and lives alone. She recently went to India to attend the Kumbha Mela with a hundred other devotees from Nepal, and says god has given her a good life.But ask her about her sorrows, and her eyes well up. “Don’t ask me about that, it hurts me deeply,” she says. “I must ignore it and look only to the positive so that I can live.”<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110811110/636a29649c7e80680e0458c5jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="430" height="210">Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/3-4th-of-the-sky/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">3/4th of the sky</a>, Editorial<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepals-better-halves/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepal's better halves</a>, Anil Chitrakar<a style="letter-spacing: 0.15px; background-color: #ffffff; outline: 0px; font-weight: 600;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/staying-alive/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Staying alive</a>, Sewa BhattaraiAfter her husband died 25 years ago, she fought a long legal battle for her husband’s share of ancestral property, but got only a small portion which she had to sell to pay the lawyers.Bhandari’s long and hard life was made worse by the 2015 earthquake. Her third brother-in-law helped her get joint ownership for the house she was living in. The earthquake destroyed that house, and she wanted to build a new one. But her brother-in-law died, and his wife refused to sign over the legal rights. Without it, Bhandari could not get the housing grant from the Nepal Reconstruction Authority (NRA).Read also:<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/a-house-for-the-nepali-family/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The house for the Nepali family</a>, Sewa Bhattarai<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/making-gods-for-a-living/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Making gods for a living</a>, Sonia Awale<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/surviving-the-aftermath/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Surviving the aftermath</a>, Sonam Choeyki LamaBhandari is among tens of thousands of single women who have been disenfranchised by a patriarchal system that gives men the advantage in property ownership.The earthquake made all this worse for single mothers and widows who needed land titles and house ownership certificates to get compensation. Single women like Ishwori Bhandari are particularly vulnerable because they cannot afford lawyers and have no family support.Four years after the earthquake, Bhandari lives in a small tin shed she has constructed beside her destroyed house. “It is very difficult to get through the winter and now the rains will come,” she says.Still, Bhandari calls herself fortunate to at least have a shed. She is much better off than the really poor earthquake survivors she has come across.“I saw one woman who did not even have a hut, she was living in a cave and could not walk,” says Bhandari, who helped the woman by referring her to social workers. “She blessed me, and it is because of that blessing I am able to live an independent life despite the misfortunes.”Bhandari suffered a heart attack after the strong aftershock on 12 May 2015 and is on expensive and lifelong medication. She had broken her left leg 20 years ago and walks with a limp because it swells from time to time.She says: “I don’t want to be a burden on anyone. I want to live long and help others. I just wish my shed was warmer and did not leak.”

Staying positive

<figure><img width="1400" height="933" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110811110/636a295a9c7e80680e0458c0jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Photo: BIKRAM RAI</figcaption></figure>Pampha Nepali never learnt to read and write, and yet at age 50 uses a measurement tape to stitch blouses for her customers. It is that determination that led her to start building a house in Sitapaila two years after the earthquake, even though she had no money for it.Nepali lost her husband 17 years ago when her children were very young. She continued to live in their home, even though her in-laws tried to drive her out. She and the two children now live in a small plot even though her father-in-law refused to pass the property in her name, fearing she might run away with another man if he did.  <img width="430" height="210" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110811110/636a295d9c7e80680e0458c1jpeg.jpg" alt="">Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/3-4th-of-the-sky/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">3/4th of the sky</a>, Editorial<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepals-better-halves/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepal's better halves</a>, Anil Chitrakar<a style="letter-spacing: 0.15px; background-color: #ffffff; outline: 0px; font-weight: 600;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/staying-alive/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Staying alive</a>, Sewa Bhattarai When the earthquake destroyed their home, Pampha Nepali and her children built a little tin shed in the corner of the property and lived there for two years. She toiled in her tailoring shop 12 hours a day, never taking a break, to feed and educate her children.Ideally, Nepali would have signed an agreement with the NRA and got money from the government to build her home. But since the land deeds were not in her name, she was unable to do so. Instead, she took loans from friends and started construction. The money kept running out, and it took her 15 months for the structure, which still lacks a proper roof. Read also: <a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/making-gods-for-a-living/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Making gods for a living</a>, Sonia Awale<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/surviving-the-aftermath/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Surviving the aftermath</a>, Sonam Choeyki Lama<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/staying-positive/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Staying positive</a>, Sewa Bhattarai The family has a house to live in, but Pampha Nepali is now starting to worry about paying her loans. Her son just passed Grade 12 and decided to stop studying and start working to help out with expenses. Nepali also worries what will happen to the house when she is no longer around. Everyone knows that the land belongs to my husband and it is mine by right. So I have stayed there by force of will, even though my in-laws continue to ostracise me,” she says. “But I still don’t have the deeds, and they could throw out my children when I am gone.”

A house for the Nepali family

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aE07W6QOG6A&amp;feature=youtu.beIt has been four years, but for <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/2000-widows-of-Nepal-earthquake-need-special-attention,2503" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nanmaiju Prajapati</a> it seems like yesterday. She was preparing lunch for her family when their home in Sankhu on the northeastern edge of Kathmandu Valley started shaking violently.It was just before noon on Saturday 25 April, 2015. Prajapati immediately realised it was an earthquake and shouted at everyone to get out of the building.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110811110/636a295d9c7e80680e0458c2jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="430" height="210"/>Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/3-4th-of-the-sky/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">3/4th of the sky</a>, Editorial<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepals-better-halves/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepal's better halves</a>, Anil Chitrakar<a style="letter-spacing: 0.15px; background-color: #ffffff; outline: 0px; font-weight: 600;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/staying-alive/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Staying alive</a>, Sewa BhattaraiShe was hit by falling bricks, but made it out. The rest of her family could not leave on time. Her husband, daughter, son-in-law and their two children were all killed. Only her son, Suraj, survived.There was a big roar as buildings in her neighbourhood collapsed in clouds of yellow dust. People were screaming, and there was a fearsome grinding sound from beneath the earth.Read also:<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/a-house-for-the-nepali-family/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The house for the Nepali family</a>, Sewa Bhattarai<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/making-gods-for-a-living/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Making gods for a living</a>, Sonia Awale<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/staying-positive/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Staying positive</a>, Sewa BhattaraiPrajapati is now 50, and looked surprisingly composed as she recounted the horror of that day while she knitted a woolen sweater. After living for three years in a tin hut, she has managed to start rebuilding her house.Without her husband, no income, and having lost her land titles and other documents, it was a struggle to rebuild. But she sold her land, and with savings from her knitting work, she managed to put up concrete columns for her future home.“The government hasn’t given us much, so I had to put this together myself,” she says, gesturing at the unfinished first floor that is incomplete even after one year.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110811110/636a295f9c7e80680e0458c3jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="783">Prajapati says she is reminded of the impermanence of existence by the tragedy. “What do we do with money? We have to leave it all behind when we go, still we need money to survive and to rebuild,” she adds, knitting away.She has tried to get her surviving daughter-in-law, Anita, to also knit to augment the family income, but she says she doesn’t know how to. “Do I knit, or do I take care of the baby?” asks Anita.Prajapati says her son is sick, and cannot work. The house is incomplete but the money is finished and she has to earn by knitting. She says: “I have to do everything around here.”But as the memory of the earthquake and the death and destruction it caused begins to fade, and Nanmaiju Prajati starts coming to terms with the loss, another generation of the family is being raised. It is the baby that gives her hope for the future.

Surviving the aftermath

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

Turkish Basketball

Thousands of Nepali students dreaming of an American education have been forced to look elsewhere as the Trump administration’s visa restrictions make their future uncertain.
The US was long considered a top destination for higher studies, making Nepal the 10th biggest country of origin for international students in America.&nbsp;
However, that number has seen a significant decline with the total for Nepali students now at 16,482. Some 8,000 Nepali students obtained no-objection certificates to study in the US from the Ministry of Education in the past year.&nbsp;
India, Australia, Canada, South Korea, United Kingdom and Japan are the other popular destinations for Nepali students. There are no clear numbers for Nepalis going to India, but a slight decline was noted this year after the deaths of two female students.
The US State Department has issued a circular to its embassies not to issue new visas to applicants until further notice. US Secretary of State Marco Rubio in the directive stated that the department planned to expand the screening of applicants' social media.&nbsp;
While new applicants are barred including those applying for visitor visas, students with scheduled interviews are allowed to proceed.
“Many of our students are affected by the new restrictions, but those who had applied for student visas earlier have got interview dates,” one Kathmandu-based college counsellor told us.
Meanwhile, even foreign students with spotless records already in the US have not been spared, as visa scrutiny intensifies under the new policy. In a move that underscores the growing sense of insecurity, many US colleges advised international students to carry their passports and documents at all times, even when traveling locally.
“Me and my friends did not go home this summer because we were not sure we would be allowed back, so we just went to Niagara Falls,” said a Nepali undergrad in Ohio, who like many interviewed for this report did not want her name used for fear of repercussion.
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Nepali students have adopted a cautious stance, with many choosing not to return home during summer vacation due to fear of visa revocations as well as travel bans. Meanwhile, over 7,000 Nepalis with Temporary Protected Status (TPS) will have to come back to Nepal by 5 August or face deportation. Thirty-seven were flown back to Kathmandu on Omni Air last week.
“The US is one of the most sought-after destinations for higher education, and the ban will definitely impact bright students,” says Narottam Aryal of the King’s College in Kathmandu.
Indeed, Nepali undergraduates admitted into Ivy League colleges for the 2025 academic year have been asked to look for alternatives. The entire Fulbright Foreign Scholarships Board resigned on Wednesday citing interference from the Trump administration on the selection of this year’s cohort. Some Nepali students already on Fulbright scholarships have noted disruptions, delays and even cancellation of stipends.&nbsp;
The student visa restrictions were initially just for foreign students admitted to Harvard University, but it was later extended to all Chinese students and now to all students. Universities like Columbia which actively recruit foreign students, face sharp enrolment declines, threatening their financial stability and diversity.
An Indian female PhD candidate at Columbia University had her visa revoked by the US State Department, and said she was targeted on the basis of her social media posts on Israeli military attacks in Gaza. Social media vetting of political activism has raised concerns about privacy and freedom of expression in a country where such rights were a given.
Many students have been informed via email that their visas have been revoked for getting speeding or parking tickets, but even others with no criminal record have been affected. The fear of deportation looms large amongst international students, including those from Nepal.&nbsp;
For most Nepalis who migrate to the US for education, the journey is a high-stakes investment. They come largely from middle-class families, often rely on a patchwork of scholarships, work-study programs, loans, or even the sale of family assets to afford fees.
Most Nepali students pursue STEM subjects which offer extended Optional Practical Training (OPT) periods that help fund their education. But with the US backsliding on education and humanitarian matters, countries like the UK and Canada are becoming more attractive despite their own recent stricter controls on student visas.&nbsp;
The UK universities saw a 63% rise in Nepali students’ admissions in 2024. Japan is another popular destination with 64,816 Nepali students enrolled as of 2024.
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Already, China, Hong Kong and Malaysia are poised to benefit from the increased scrutiny of US student visas. Several Hong Kong universities are offering unconditional admission to affected students, while Malaysian institutions are targeting previously US-bound Asian students. China and India have 330,000 and 280,000 students respectively in America, but the numbers for China have seen a sharp drop in the past year.
Elsewhere, branch campuses of American institutions such as NYU in Abu Dhabi, Georgetown in Dubai and Northwestern in Doha are getting more admission applications, and universities in the Gulf region are expanding infrastructure to accommodate those who would otherwise have gone to the US.&nbsp;
Even educational institutions in Nepal are hopeful that the US visa restrictions can be an opportunity to at least keep Nepali undergrads in Nepal, and also attract foreign students from the region.&nbsp;
“Many students might choose to complete their undergraduate degree here in Nepal and then move abroad for their Master’s degree later,” says Aryal of King’s College. “There was a need for quality higher education in Nepal anyway in terms of innovation and opportunities, so this could be the time to reduce our dependence on other countries.”
Nepal’s strategic position between India and China makes it sensitive to US policy shifts. India, a key ally, is also under US scrutiny for potential student travel restrictions. Chinese universities are already offering more scholarships to Nepali talent to capitalise on the US retreat.
American universities have challenged student visa restrictions in the courts. A federal court in Boston revoked the blanket ban on Harvard, and the State Department has ordered the resumption of processing student and exchange visitor visas.&nbsp;
Some are still hoping that President Trump will backtrack on the student visa restrictions, just like he has done with many of his more drastic executive orders.
Even so, the visa see-saw and longer-term uncertainties about living in the United States and its education system means students across the world are making alternative plans.
Says Aryal: “Policies of foreign countries change according to their needs, so excessive dependence was never a good idea. We should work to create different opportunities and choices of higher education within Nepal, so students are retained.” &nbsp;

America no longer prime destination for Nepali students

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

The Everest Industry

That winter day in January 1664 marked an exceptional event in the reign of King Pratap Malla of Kathmandu. It was 15 Paush 784 of the Nepal Sambat and for the first time, a historical event was being immortalised on canvas for generations to come.&nbsp; The occasion was the grand Tuladaan ceremony of the King’s youngest son Chakrabartendra Malla from his wife Anantapriya, an Indian princess from Cooch Behar in present-day Assam.&nbsp; During the ritual, the prince was weighed against gold, silver, pearls, and other precious stones, which were then offered to Goddess Taleju Bhavani, the guardian deity of the Malla dynasty.&nbsp; The 170 x120cm painting captures the time of King Pratap Malla in all its splendour and is more than a personal tribute to his son: it is a significant visual historical document. It was evidently completed five years later in 1669, and could be considered a photographic record, with retrospective recreation of the event by the unknown artist. A Tuladaan ceremony is performed to purify one’s karma, quell impending bad luck, or as an act of charity and devotion. Chakrabartendra Malla was not well, and the ritual was performed in hopes of restoring his health. King Pratap Malla had arranged for each of his sons to take turns ruling Kathmandu so they got administrative experience. But Chakrabartendra died just two days after assuming power in 1670 (790 NS). This painting is considered the earliest known example in which the composition is dominated by an architectural landscape: the Taleju Temple. Given the stylistic features such as side-profile facial depictions and the rendering of human forms, it is believed that the Nepali artist was trained by a Rajput master.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250615040624_ddad3bc27a327e3f9926c8473287e4f14b53081296c295049009f327a4d97051.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250615040624_ddad3bc27a327e3f9926c8473287e4f14b53081296c295049009f327a4d97051" data-rendition-name="original" width="3248" height="4395" loading="lazy" alt="Tuladaan NT"> </figure>  During that era, there were regular exchanges of artists between Northern India and Kathmandu Valley. The painting is also a melding of Nepali, Tibetan, Mughal, and Rajput art styles of the time. Pratap Malla could have been inspired by a painting of Mughal Emperor Jahangir’s Tuladaan ceremony for his son Khurram in 1607. The Mallas and Mughals shared cordial relations, which is reflected in the cultural influences seen in the art and attire of the period.&nbsp; The clothing of the Malla ruling class, in particular, features colourful tunics, turbans, and jewelry that display strong Rajput and Mughal stylistic elements. The musicians in the upper tier are also dressed in Indian-style clothing, while the ensemble on the lower steps wear local attire, notably without turbans. Their hairstyles also differ, with the lower group wearing their hair tied in a bun at the front. This national treasure is currently in storage at the Collège de France in Paris, and has never been publicly displayed. Nepal’s art scholars like Gautam Vajracharya, Pratap Aditya Pal and Anne Vergati have written about this iconic paubha in the past, but the only detailed study is from the perspective of music history by researcher Richard Widdess who had access to high resolution copies of the original.&nbsp; Widdess from the Department of Music at the School of Oriental and African Studies (SOAS) in London describes the paubha as the most significant and richly detailed documentation of music in Nepali art. He identifies distinct musical ensembles on the terraces of the temple, and remarkably most of them are actively used today. One of them reflects the Mughal naqqārakhāna model — a loud outdoor ensemble typically composed of kettledrums, trumpets, and cymbals, traditionally performed from the gateway of the emperor’s palace to announce his entrances and exits. The depiction of such an ensemble in the tulādāna painting is likely the earliest known representation of a complete naqqārakhāna in Nepal — considered the forerunner of the panche baja, the traditional Nepali ensemble. On the stepped pyramid base of the temple are two groups of musicians playing local instruments: dhimey, bhushya, and dha. They are unmistakably Newar musicians, wearing short skirts and short-sleeved tops, with bare heads and legs—clearly distinguished as local performers.&nbsp; Higher still on the temple pyramid are musicians of apparently higher status, positioned close to the king, and his courtiers, possibly professional court musicians from India, well-versed in rāga and tāla. A dāphā group is also clearly depicted, identifiable by their characteristic instruments.&nbsp; Dāphā bhajan is likely the oldest surviving tradition of Newar devotional singing, and this paubha is the oldest visual record of it. Pratap Malla himself is believed to have composed songs that continue to be performed by dāphā groups throughout Kathmandu till today.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025061211064_d67636730cdc0ec778c02494817aca0b99654f2950d0fae4b95499a61faf7ef3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2025061211064_d67636730cdc0ec778c02494817aca0b99654f2950d0fae4b95499a61faf7ef3" data-rendition-name="original" width="596" height="768" loading="lazy" alt="Priceless paubha in Paris NT"> </figure>  The artist’s thorough attention to musical detail may be attributed to King Pratap Malla’s own deep interest in music. His inscriptions on this painting and elsewhere proclaim his mastery of all branches of knowledge, including music. He is also known as the author of dance dramas and poems, penning his name as Kavindra (king of poets). Some noteworthy elements of new art techniques stand out: for example, the roof of the temple is filled with realistically rendered white doves, pigeons, and crows. This is a rare feature in paubha, where animals and birds are stylised, mythological forms. This remarkably talented unknown artist has managed to also render an orthographic projection: the front and side view of Nepal’s first architectural paubha. The Taleju Temple, with its staggering multi-tiered structure and numerous steps and platforms, is masterfully translated into layers within the painting. This represents a significant artistic achievement of the time, especially considering that dimensional perspectives had not started in deity-based paubha.&nbsp; The artist has also made a meticulous effort to capture architectural details such as the toran (ornamental arch) and temple struts with impressive precision. There are flickering lamps along the steps and some people carrying what appear to be oil pots.&nbsp; It is a full moon night and the dark sky is adorned with all the gods and goddesses, who are depicted as blessing the ceremony while seated on stylised thangka clouds. There is a lot happening in this painting, with people engaged in various activities. The artist has also rendered a forest backdrop behind the temple, complete with deer, trees, and flowers. Could there have once been a royal garden behind the Taleju Temple?&nbsp; More details and clarity can only be achieved if we are able to view the original or a high-resolution scanned version of the artwork. Many countries proudly display art depicting historical events in their national museums with great reverence. France, for example, has The Coronation of Emperor Napoleon and Empress Joséphine by Jacques-Louis David (1808–1822), along with numerous paintings of the Napoleonic Wars. Many were commissioned by Napoleon himself for future generations to remember.&nbsp; For Nepal, the equivalent is the Tuladaan paubha which is a visual record capturing a historic moment involving one of Kathmandu’s greatest kings, on the very day the event took place. Sadly, we await the day when this masterpiece is displayed, shared in high resolution for detailed study, or more rightfully — repatriated to its homeland, where it truly belongs. &nbsp; Shaguni Singh Sakya is the Director of the Museum of Nepali Arts (MoNA) at Kathmandu Guest House in Thamel. <h2>Gods homeward bound</h2> The Nepal Heritage Recovery Campaign and Nepal’s Department of Archaeology are convening the first international conference on the Recovery of Cultural Heritage from 16-18 June in Patan. The conference will address urgent issues of theft, illicit trafficking, the campaign to repatriate looted cultural artifacts, and explore how the return of sacred antiquities contributes to justice, healing, and reconciliation for communities and nations affected by cultural loss. American art crime professor Erin L Thompson and Saubhagya Pradhananga of the Department of Archaeology will deliver the keynote. Meanwhile, author and Nepali Times publisher Kunda Dixit will lead a conversation on Illicit Trafficking: Public Opinion and Role of Media with Erin Thompson, Amr Al Azm, associate professor of Middle East History and Anthropology at Shawnee State University in Ohio, as well as Bradley J Gordon, a lawyer based in Phnom Penh. There will be sessions looking at repatriation perspectives from Cambodia, India, Vietnam, China and Poland, international frameworks for repatriation, emerging digital technologies in the repatriation of cultural heritage, cultural property agreements, museums as well as trends in the art market, and heritage diplomacy and the role of media.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025061211068_59cfccfa8f5d73bfe8b4c5811a7f53abc09ea04e8cb7c638933d62e5283efdf6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2025061211068_59cfccfa8f5d73bfe8b4c5811a7f53abc09ea04e8cb7c638933d62e5283efdf6" data-rendition-name="original" width="1080" height="1350" loading="lazy" alt="Heritage recovery NT"> </figure>  <h2> </h2> Some of the other highlights include James K. Reap, a professor in the Master of Historic Preservation Program at the University of Georgia who has a session on the US response to illicit trafficking. Art historian Lea Saint-Raymond is taking on “Gods at Auction: The Market for Himalayan Artefacts”, while lecturer of criminology at the University of Glasgow Emiline Smith is delving into transformative approaches to heritage ownership and repatriation. Helena Arose of Antiquities Coalition and Melina Antoniadis of NOSTOS Strategies that specialise on the return home of cultural heritage as well as Hao Liu of International Cultural Heritage Law at the School of Law at Shandong University are some of the others attending. The Nepal Heritage Recovery Campaign was set up in 2020 to develop a coordinated movement to reclaim Nepal’s stolen gods and goddesses, with an aim to ensure that recovered items are returned to their original shrines, niches or sanctums. Ahead of the conference opening organisers have arranged for a film screening of Loot &amp; Return: 4 Documentaries at YalaMaya Kendra in Patan Dhoka between 14-15 June. Following the conference is a multimedia exhibition titled Absent Gods: Nepal’s Lost Heritage from 31 July to 4 August at Patan Museum.