Nepal had just welcomed an all time high 1.2 million visitors in 2019 and was aiming to bring 2 million tourists the following year. Come March 2020 and everything ground to a halt. Thousands of Nepalis lost incomes, and faced an uncertain future. While foreign tourists have returned to Nepal after three years, tourism entrepreneurs now must consider how best to safeguard the sector from future crises. Covid-19 wasn’t the last of the pandemics, and now there are more conflicts and disasters. One solution is a shift to a sustainable and inclusive model through community-based homestay tourism, which is already spreading across Nepal.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230701050728_22ed6aac00eae7f5a4d4084ee827df1ce74afc6ce7be68c8305a6069cd6c77ad.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20230701050728_22ed6aac00eae7f5a4d4084ee827df1ce74afc6ce7be68c8305a6069cd6c77ad" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Homestays in Butwal Nepal"> <figcaption>The city of Butwal seen from a hillside, a short hike from a new homestay.</figcaption> </figure>  Homestays in Nepal allow visitors to pay for living in family homes rather than in guest houses or hotels, and to eat whatever the family eats, rather than ordering off a standardised menu. But there is significant diversity in the types of homestays available, ranging from simple rooms in traditional village homes to multi-room outbuildings with attached bathrooms and wifi. Homestays can be privately run by individual families or belong to a community homestay program, in which neighbours form a governing committee and agree to rotate hosting duties between households and contribute a share of profits to local development funds. Community homestays started to proliferate just a decade ago with support from government bodies and travel enterprises such as the <a href="https://www.communityhomestay.com/">Community Homestay Network</a>. According to Krishna Chaudhary of the Homestay Federation of Nepal, as of summer 2022 there were around 6,500 registered homestays across 1,500 villages in the country. Saroj Tamang opened his homestay in Gre village of Rasuwa district shortly before the first Covid lockdown, and believes many tourists prefer staying in village homes over large guest houses so that they can experience local culture. “It’s more fun for them to stay with families, here the tourists can live how our grandfathers lived,” says Tamang who had no guests at all during the pandemic but is optimistic for the future of homestays and the benefits to his village. “Development will come with the tourists. The town will be clean, we will share the benefits, and income would stay here in Gre.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230701050720_896404d078b748c24ea30a57f74fd8a51b50ce7005317ae9879e2a2fbb0bf100.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20230701050720_896404d078b748c24ea30a57f74fd8a51b50ce7005317ae9879e2a2fbb0bf100" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Homestays in Rasuwa Nepal"> <figcaption>The view from a homestay in Gre, overlooking the Trishuli valley with Langtang Himal in the distance.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230701050720_e7f24c567dfdaa8339fc72d2b87fb98e045f9ea726ab53575a9773992a4cec12.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20230701050720_e7f24c567dfdaa8339fc72d2b87fb98e045f9ea726ab53575a9773992a4cec12" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Homestays in Rasuwa Nepal"> <figcaption>The dining area of Pema Homestay in Gre village, Rasuwa, featuring prayer flags and traditional Tamang window carvings.</figcaption> </figure>  Profit-sharing and collective investment by homestay operators now allow development of local tourism infrastructure such as community halls for cultural performances, signposts, and footpaths. The homestay business is by definition integrated into home and family life, so homestays have lower operating costs than hotels and are thus more resilient to economic shocks. The economic impact of the lockdown may therefore not have been felt as harshly for village homestays as they were for hotels. “In the homestay sector, we own our houses and land, and it’s a family business, 99% of homestay job holders are family members,” says Krishna Chaudhary, the Homestay Federation official who is also the chair of Gabhar Valley Community Homestay in Banke district. “But many hotels must pay rent for their land and buildings, and they have to hire staff and pay them.” Chaudhary is expanding his homestay and sees some silver linings in the tourism shutdown: “Here we can grow our own vegetables, we have land and jungle. During the lockdown we could rest with our families and do renovations to create more opportunity going forward.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230701050720_c508f1fd792e470700b3d340ef037c2772a5edffe6cd8a904c0708589141493a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20230701050720_c508f1fd792e470700b3d340ef037c2772a5edffe6cd8a904c0708589141493a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Homestay in Bardia Nepal"> <figcaption>A sign marks the entrance to a homestay in Dalla village in Bardia.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230701050720_a41ffe77923e2be769b43de459e95fc2d63dd8e44c175b69eb753ebab01600ea.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20230701050720_a41ffe77923e2be769b43de459e95fc2d63dd8e44c175b69eb753ebab01600ea" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Homestay in Bardia Nepal"> <figcaption>A courtyard at Gabhar Valley homestay, showcasing the traditional art and architecture of the Tharu culture.</figcaption> </figure>  Additionally, homestay tourism can provide positive spillover effects to the broader community beyond homestay operators. Salik Ram Chaudhary, who has operated a homestay in Dalla village in Bardia district for 11 years, says, “Other households in Dalla sell chicken and eggs to the homestays, and vegetable farmers sell food to us too. So other local people also benefit.” The homestay program in Dalla has also attracted outside funding to build a community hall, and tourism proceeds are used to finance conservation efforts in the village’s community forest, which is part of an important wildlife corridor on the Bardia National Park.&nbsp; “There’s a good relationship between tourism and the environment,” he says. “Conservation has improved with homestays." Husband and wife Dhanishwar and Janaki Bashyal have run their homestay in Tansen of Palpa district for 12 years. Their homestay was initially a private family business, but five years ago the Bashyals and a few other homestay operators in Tansen joined hands to form a community homestay group with government support. In addition, the homestay committee in Tansen collaborates in knowledge sharing and in hosting joint cultural programs for tourists which is educational even to the locals. Says Bashyal: “Young people in Tansen also see the traditional culture and dress… because of the homestays, our culture is preserved.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230701050728_eb90f96870bc6f48f123254fc544baee25efc9c793bbe354b768ccc8963338f2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20230701050728_eb90f96870bc6f48f123254fc544baee25efc9c793bbe354b768ccc8963338f2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1230" loading="lazy" alt="Homestay in Palpa Nepal"> <figcaption>The view from a homestay in Tansen, Palpa.</figcaption> </figure>  There are challenges. Many foreign tourists are unaware of community homestays unless they hire a homestay-focused travel agency while domestic tourists view homestays as a downgrade to hotels. Additionally, inequality within communities can cause tension, as some homestay operators are able to afford larger investments in guest rooms and facilities, and thus end up with a greater share of revenue than others. Promotion and advertising, which many homestay operators see as a priority for post-pandemic growth, can be costly and difficult, especially for locations not on traditional tourism circuits. In established tourism hubs such as Ghandruk in Kaski district in the Annapurna Conservation Area, homestays can struggle to find a foothold in a highly competitive tourism environment. “Tourists see the big hotels and stay there, they ignore the homestays,” says one operator.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230701050716_cdc8fbd772e7bdc7d5dd62bf5c6acac86eb0334ff997fca2fd88c215dc4e7b1c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20230701050716_cdc8fbd772e7bdc7d5dd62bf5c6acac86eb0334ff997fca2fd88c215dc4e7b1c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Homestay in Ghandruk Nepal"> <figcaption>A view of the old town of Ghandrukin Kaski district. The town’s distinctive Gurung architecture is being replaced by concrete hotels in much of the village.</figcaption> </figure>  In contrast to the collaborative spirit often seen in smaller village homestay groups, the homestay operator in Ghandruk felt that the members of the homestay committee there did not support each other because they were competing among themselves for a limited customer base, especially in the aftermath of the lockdown. Juma, a homestay operator in Thini village near Jomsom in Lower Mustang, also noted a rise in competition. “The guest houses compete with the homestays here. The guest houses have attached bathrooms and more facilities. Here we have simple, local food. But homestays offer cultural programs and are cheaper.” The post-pandemic boom in domestic travel filled Thini’s homestays to capacity in peak tourism months, and Juma was planning to recruit neighbours into the program. “In the high season we have to turn back tourists because all the homestays are full,” she adds. “We need more houses to join.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230701050728_a1600accf79ec74442a3a6b0be356c42a79e2e624373427e20152b731124f0ee.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20230701050728_a1600accf79ec74442a3a6b0be356c42a79e2e624373427e20152b731124f0ee" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Homestay in Mustang Nepal"> <figcaption>A view of Thini village in lower Mustang, with agricultural fields and the Jomsom airport below.</figcaption> </figure>  Seeing the success of homestays in other parts of Nepal, tourism entrepreneur Rabin Karki is seeking to create a community-based homestay tourism program in his hometown of Butwal. “Right now this neighbourhood is only a residential area, it’s not a source of income for anyone,” says Karki. “But homestays could make it a business area as well.” Karki has seen enthusiasm from his fellow young people in Butwal for developing a community-centric tourism industry in the city, which is a transit hub in southern Nepal with highway links to popular tourist sites like Lumbini, Chitwan and Pokhara. Homestay operators, especially in rural areas, still must contend with the economic realities that posed difficulties even before the pandemic. In Narchyang village in Myagdi, some residents who had supplemented their income by operating homestays have moved away for better opportunities. “Before the pandemic, 20 people were on the homestay committee here,” says Hukum Pun, a homestay owner in Narchyang. “But now there are only four or five homestays. It was destroyed by corona. Some people moved abroad for work, some left the village for the city, some have gotten too old.” Narchyang is close to Tatopani, an established stop along the Annapurna Circuit and the site of many large hotels. This meant that the lockdown’s effects were less severe in Narchyang than in Tatopani. “There were no tourists here, but we are not reliant on tourism. So here it wasn’t hard. We grew vegetables…there is a lot of agriculture here. In Tatopani there is only tourism,” he explains.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230701050728_f3606186efd2dcd7870c18b17ba4a376db85011c10da2c376fc7617bd2d9cc8a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20230701050728_f3606186efd2dcd7870c18b17ba4a376db85011c10da2c376fc7617bd2d9cc8a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="2000" loading="lazy" alt="Homestays in Nepal"> <figcaption>A waterfall above terraced fields, seen from a homestay in Narchyang village.</figcaption> </figure>  Nepal recorded 600,000 arrivals in 2022 and Nepal Tourism Board has a goal of 1 million in 2023. The tourism landscape has changed drastically post-pandemic and in the age of the climate crisis. Now is the time to build a more resilient tourism industry that shares benefits at the community level. Promoting and supporting homestay tourism may provide one path forward.&nbsp; Jack Shangraw is a Fulbright scholar documenting the impacts of the pandemic lockdown on community-level tourism in Nepal.

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Home away from home in Nepal

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108151116/636a64fd9c7e80680e059908jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="978"/><figcaption>A guest is welcomed at the Ayodhyapuri homestay cooperative located in the Chitwan National Park buffer zone. Photo : WWF</figcaption></figure>Hari Bahadur Pun from Madi Valley in <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/how-chitwan-was-opened,4159" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Chitwan</a> returned from Malaysia three years ago, and has been running his own homestay since then. He is thankful he made that decision, and spends his day welcoming guests into his home.“The rooms are never empty because guests keep coming and I spend my time taking care of them. This is great work for myself, and good income for the village."The boundary of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/More-trouble-in-Chitwan-National-Park,2956" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Chitwan National Park</a> is 1km north of Ayodhyapuri village and the Indian border is to the south. An ongoing problem in the village is wild animals from the park raiding crops, which is why most young people here migrated overseas for employment.But today, homestays have given jobs  to villagers. The guests are visitors from Nepal and abroad attracted by the rustic lifestyle, and <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Conservation-and-tourism-Chitwan-National-Park,2957" target="_blank" rel="noopener">wildlife tourism</a> in Chitwan.Ward Chief Krishna Raj Adhikari says there is no shortage of guests, especially from October to May. Bookings need to be made by July, or visitors won’t find a room. Says homestay operator Om Bahadur Pun Magar, “Many times, we have had to send tourists to hotels after serving them meals but we don’t like it when we have to do that. It spoils the whole homestay experience.”<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108151116/636a65009c7e80680e059909jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="392" height="500"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Many people from the area who had migrated abroad for work have returned to open their own homestays, attracted by the income that can be made in their own houses. Many earn about Rs35,000 per month. The benefits go beyond individual homes. Previously there was no electricity in area villages, and streets were filled with mud during the monsoon and dust in winter. Today, roads are paved, and in the evenings the villages light up because of new solar-powered street lamps.The locals are less dependent on Chitwan National Park as well. “Before the homestay was established, everyone owned cows and buffaloes, and when we went into the jungle for grass we used to have run-ins with army rangers guarding the park,” says Som Maya Pun. “Now, people have stopped raising livestock or stall-feed them, and are busy with running their homestays.”The homestays have also allowed locals to reconnect with their culture. Years ago,Dambar Bahadur Pun, who migrated here from his home in Myagdi in the mountains, joined the Indian Army like many of his forebears. He used to return home every year for 45 days of vacation, travelling from Raxaul through Sauraha. But that trip took at least a month. Tired of spending most of his holiday travelling, he moved to Ayodhyapuri, which is just three hours from his Indian Army base.“We didn’t know much about our culture because we had not seen much of it,” says Khil Bahadur Pun, also from Myagdi. “But after we started our homestay, everyone was interested in the Magar culture again. We reconnected with our roots, and discovered our songs, dances and festivals.”To perform for guests, locals learnt Maruni and Soreti, traditional Magar dances. Now a ‘cultural home’ has been set up so homestay visitors can gather for performances.Supporting homestays can be a way of helping not only local economies but also conservation. People who live near national parks like Chitwan are often poor and rely on farming and livestock. <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/more-rhinos-means-more-encounter,4045" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Wild animals put livelihoods at risk</a>. But by providing income from tourism, national parks can ease the burdens on those living around them.Through the Tarai Arc Landscape program, the Worldwide Fund for Nature (WWF) Nepal supported buffer zone communities to set up homestays, and the Madi cooperative is one of them. The 13 houses have hosted 11,000 visitors in the last three years, and the homestays are marketed by the adventure travel company Intrepid Travel.Tul Bahadur Pun Magar, the secretary of the cooperative and operator of one of the homestays, himself used to work as a driver and a construction supervisor in Bahrain, earning Rs70,000 a month. He is happy to be back near nature, and planning for the future.“Through the homestays, we have learned to live with wild animals. Our guests love to see them and we have realised that they are precious,” he says. With the 13 homestays fairly well-established, Pun Magar has plans to create a bird sanctuary near his village.Many operators of Ayodhyapuri’s homestays are women, who have been empowered by the income and exposure. “We never used to deal with people from outside the household,” says homestay operator Sharmila Rai. “Now we feel confident  engaging with anyone.”While only a few of Ayodhyapuri’s households host homestays, they generate income beyond lodging fees. All vegetables needed for feeding tourists is grown organically in the village, dairy products are made locally, and the fish and poultry are also raised by the village.The growth of economic disparities within the village is a problem faced by homestay programs, particularly in places where for reasons of caste, there is already a socio-economic gap. In Ayodhyapuri, at least, the distribution of income-generating activities as well as the limit of one homestay per operator, seems to be keeping these disparities in check.Read also:<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=37172&amp;preview_nonce=98944df42f&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepalis open doors to a better life,</a> Sanghamitra Subba<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/migrant-worker-finds-farming-in-nepal-more-rewarding/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Migrant worker finds farming in Nepal more rewarding</a>, Naresh Newar<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/from-the-nepali-press/no-need-to-migrate-for-work/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">No need to migrate for work</a>, Nepali Times

Homestays keep former migrants in Nepal

International Mountain Day on 11 December should inspire celebration, not cynicism. It follows &nbsp;a small but rare diplomatic win: the agreement at COP30 in Belém to hold a dedicated global dialogue on mountains in 2026, and to include mountain-specific indicators in the new climate adaptation framework.&nbsp;
A welcome shift, certainly. But the old narrative lingers — mountains are fragile, disaster-prone, eternally vulnerable. But the uncomfortable truth is that safe and environment-friendly development in the mountains is simply too expensive than anyone wants to admit.
To build a kilometre of two-lane highway in the Tarai costs Rs200 million. That same kilometre on a Himalayan slope with retaining walls, drainage, bioengineering, and landslide protection costs more than Rs1 billion. Add tunnels, viaducts or highways designed for minimum 80km/h speeds and that figure can easily triple.
This pattern repeats across all sectors. A 50MW run-of-river hydropower plant that costs $80 million in low-ling valleys costs four times more in the mountains. The headrace tunnels have to be longer, desanding basins must trap the silt, the access roads cost more than the entire project. And there is no way to prevent the scheme from being washed away by a glacial collapse flood.
Nepal's annual road budget is only Rs150 billion. It is scattered thinly across 753 municipalities, most of them perched on steep, unstable slopes. When resources are inadequate and political cycles are short, the incentives for corruption are predictable &nbsp;— shaving a mountain flank at 70 degrees instead of 45, taking a shortcut on drainage canals, skimping on asphalt thickness, or skipping the Gabion.
In high Nepal, the bulldozer is the engineer. We hang on the prayer that the monsoon will be merciful. July arrives, and reality returns. Mountains fall on roads, flash floods wash away swathes of expensive highways.
The entrance to the Siddhababa Tunnel in Palpa collapses yet again. The Nagdhunga Tunnel faces another landslide delay. The Melamchi headworks go under — again. Each failure costs more to repair than proper engineering would have cost when that infrastructure was built.
We are not just paying once. We the taxpayers are signing up for a subscription to disaster. The real fragility of Nepal’s mountains is of governance, not geology.
This is what the international climate conversation habitually misses. Mountain communities are repeatedly told to ‘respect nature’ and avoid linear infrastructure, often by the same countries proudly announcing new expressways and airports in their own countries.
Mountain people are not anti-development. They want what everyone else wants: electricity that does not flicker, roads that survive the monsoon, schools their children can reach in winter. What they lack is not aspiration, it is the budget required to build things safely that is not stolen by politicians and their crony contractors.
If the world truly wants to protect the Himalaya, Andes or Alps, and the billions who rely on them for water, the answer is not more romantic slogans about fragility of the mountains. It is concessional, patient financing that narrows the gap between cheap and dangerous versus expensive and resilient. And it is transparent government that spends that money wisely.
This means money for tunnels instead of unstable surface cuts. Money for bioengineered slopes instead of naked bulldozer scars. Money for hydropower built for 1-in-100-year floods, not 1-in-25-year budgets.&nbsp;
This is not charity. Mountain infrastructure safeguards global water, carbon, energy and biodiversity systems. It is a global public good, and should be financed as such.&nbsp;
In Syangja, small investments under the Climate Adaptive Equitable Water Management Practices have restored nine community ponds, protected recharge zones and increased dry-season spring flow by about a third. All of this for less than the cost of repairing a single kilometre of poorly built hillside road after the next landslide.
Our experience from the Subnational Governance Programme (SNGP) in some districts of mountains and plains show that when municipalities receive practical guidance backed by scientific research, they can scale these solutions with modest, targeted budgets. Local governments are not the problem — they are the missing link. &nbsp;
The tragedy is not technical incapacity; it is chronic under-financing of the most cost-intensive terrain on earth. Lets stop romanticising mountain poverty on 11 December, International Mountain Day. Let us retire the language of fragility that excuses inaction.
Mountains are not pleading for sympathy. They are demanding fairness: that the true cost of safe development in the world’s steepest geographies be acknowledged and shared. Until that bill is paid, the monsoon will continue to do the accounting, one landslide, one road, one abandoned promise at a time.
Ngamindra Dahal is a water and climate adaptation practitioner based at the Nepal Water Conservation Foundation, Kathmandu.

The Himalaya is not fragile

This is the 76th episode of Diaspora Diaries, a Nepali Times series in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working and studying abroad. We did not have a whole lot, but did not grow up in scarcity either. When I was in Grade 7, my father migrated to Malaysia but returned just after 18 days and was heavily in debt. It is the interest and not the principal from loan sharks that ruins borrowers. As we grew up, family expenses rose and my father migrated again to Qatar, determined to make it work this time. I used to watch him via IMO in buildings under construction eating rice out of plastic bags. There was no AC, no oven, no shade. Those images are etched into my memory.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081244_3f46ccdd1fab8f85ccce9fc8bec677cb7466a1b9556f36d0f92d19c6478369b6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251208081244_3f46ccdd1fab8f85ccce9fc8bec677cb7466a1b9556f36d0f92d19c6478369b6" data-rendition-name="original" width="600" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Family picture from 2014 sent to Anil's father who was working in Qatar.</figcaption> </figure>  After Grade 10, I was encouraged to take up computers in +2 as I was a bright student. I did not have access to a computer, and the 30 minutes we got weekly at the computer lab was just not enough. My parents could not afford to buy a computer, but a friend had both a desktop and laptop at home.&nbsp; I did his homework in exchange for using his computer. When my father in Qatar, found out he bought me a laptop. Today, a decade later, I am still using it. Maybe I valued the computer more because it was bought with my father’s sweat. The laptop reminds me of how he toiled overseas.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081240_2b3dc0b903d0b01caf875b5f50c22053aa28097b405cf14f36c6324a93f5dfef.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251208081240_2b3dc0b903d0b01caf875b5f50c22053aa28097b405cf14f36c6324a93f5dfef" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Anil still uses the laptop his father bought him ten years ago.</figcaption> </figure>  The money he sent home did help with household expenses. My mother did tailoring, although the income was not stable. After my father returned from Qatar, we he bought a three-wheeler which he still uses in Makwanpur. After completing Grade 12, I came to college in Kathmandu to study IT. It cost Rs20,000 a month in tuition, rent and food just to survive. I could not complete my bachelor’s. Although my father kept saying, “Don’t worry, I am here,” he just did not have the money to pay for me. So, I took up a data entry job which helped cover living expenses. The pandemic meant my father could not earn money from his auto-rickshaw. We had no savings and had outstanding loans. Migration was the only way to get us out of the rut. I told my father that both of us should go abroad to earn some money. He could return earlier and I would stay on.&nbsp; My father agreed, and I visited recruiting agencies with both our passports. After reviewing our CVs, they said it was easy to find jobs for my father but not for me, given my educational background and my experience in software. “How can we send you for jobs as a cleaner or security guard?” they asked. I finally found a job in Romania, and decided to have my father stay back because going to Europe would have doubled the cost. My mother and sister came to see me off at Kathmandu airport. It felt just like my father leaving for Qatar many years ago. Perhaps some day, my brother would also leave in a similar manner, I thought.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081240_c1a00b70223f048e994e1cab7c0e6cd6944c4a2f3f7740b0a8e76921da9d23f0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251208081240_c1a00b70223f048e994e1cab7c0e6cd6944c4a2f3f7740b0a8e76921da9d23f0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Anil's sister hugging him at the airport before he left for Romania.</figcaption> </figure>  In Romania, I work in a factory making car seat belts. It is not physically demanding and it is indoors. Even though I did not share it with my family, the initial period was difficult as I had no experience standing and working for so many hours at a time. Once, when I was tired at work, I wondered how my father managed in Qatar in a much more physically taxing job. Here I was not carrying heavy loads, my work was not outdoors. I was so emotional, I wrote a ghazal in my head. The words “खाडीको तातो घाम” kept repeating in my head. After work, I jotted down the verse in my diary:&nbsp; बुवा, तपाई जस्तो बन्न म सक्दै सक्दिनँ Father, I cannot become like you कति गाह्रो छ, म भन्नै सक्दिनँ I cannot imagine how hard it is म मान्छे हेर्दा मात्रै ठूलो I only look like a grown man बानी अझै बच्चै छ But I am still childish किनकि जता त्यतै जान मन लाग्छ I feel like roaming around जे देख्यो त्यो खान मन लाग्छ Eat whatever I see. न पैसा बच्छ I cannot save. न खाएको कुरा सबै पच्छ The food doesn’t agree with me&nbsp; कहिले काहीँ त मलाई म्याकडोनाल्डको बर्गर पनि पच्दैन Not even a burger at McDonalds तर प्लास्टिकमा पोको परेको त्यो चिसो भात But how did my father eat that cold rice खाडीको त्यो तातो घाममा सेक्दै खाँदा मेरो बुवालाई कसरी पच्छ? Under the hot Gulf sun? मेरो पेटले यस्तो पचाउन सक्दै सक्दैन I would not be able to eat that. बुवा, तपाई जस्तो बन्न म सक्दै सक्दिनँ Father, I cannot be like you. कति गाह्रो छ, म भन्नै सक्दिनँ I cannot say how difficult it is.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081240_51eb68a130750f1c79ab1046406a5b940c780ebd87cfff5ff6861d3287bd69c0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251208081240_51eb68a130750f1c79ab1046406a5b940c780ebd87cfff5ff6861d3287bd69c0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Anil Gole's diary entry of his ghazal compares his migration with his father’s journey.</figcaption> </figure>  I posted it online, and it went viral. But more importantly, people found the words relatable and engaging. My sister first saw it on Tiktok and shared it with my mother. It moved them to tears while my father kept watching it on repeat, deep in thought. Even though my birth father decided to leave my mother when I was less than a year old, my step father never made me feel the absence of anything. My friend from Grade 6 in Makwanpur, Sharan, introduced me to ghazal. He was six years older because he had to pause his studies during the Maoist conflict. He worked in a brick factory in Kathmandu, saved money, and returned to school. He was very talented and we became friends through the school children’s club.&nbsp; Sharan and I spent most of our time together, sharing meals to save money and even skipping classes. One day, in Grade 9 when our teacher was absent, he wrote a ghazal on the spot and explained the form, the rhyme, the meter. I listened half-heartedly as it was not of interest. We left it at that. Shortly after, Sharan was diagnosed with leukemia and he could not finish exam. Because he was a sharp student, the teachers decided to not hold him back. He died just before Grade 10. I cried. I do not have any pictures of Sharan. He had small ears, and I used to tease him that people with small ears do not live long. That still haunts me. <div class="embed-block"><div style="max-width: 56vh;"><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 177.7778%;"><iframe src="https://cdn.iframe.ly/api/iframe?url=https%3A%2F%2Fyoutube.com%2Fshorts%2FLpizGQWTbMs%3Ffeature%3Dshare&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> At the school assembly at the start of the new year, we were asked to share a talent. I did not know what to do, but I wrote a ghazal just as Sharan had taught me and dedicated it to him. Halfway through, I started crying and the principal took me to his office and calmed me down.&nbsp; I do not write much poetry except a few posts on social media here and there. But a video of me reciting went viral on TikTok and that encouraged me to write more. That made me feel validated, and I began writing more about real life experiences. It has been three years in Romania. My brother will also be joining me soon. Things have improved for us financially, but we are not where we want to be. We will get there. When we do, I will resume my studies. I’m interested in programming, especially back-end development and working with databases. It is on hold right now.&nbsp; I do not have big dreams, I just want to make sure my parents get what they deserve. It is okay if I get delayed if my parents are able to access what they had scarified for us when they were of my age. For now, my family is my priority.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081240_9e8d3cad3b505d3ec5adcea94ed05b2ea9de1d2cd8507335eec86c2659a11b34.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20251208081240_9e8d3cad3b505d3ec5adcea94ed05b2ea9de1d2cd8507335eec86c2659a11b34" data-rendition-name="original" width="2016" height="1512" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Anil's family.</figcaption> </figure>

My father’s son

Nepal’s month-long cricket carnival ended on a sunny Saturday in Kathmandu with a final game in which the Lumbini Lions dominated the Sudurpaschim Royals with both bat and ball.&nbsp; The Royals were bowled out for an embarrassing 85, thanks to Namibian Ruben Trumplemann’s three wickets for three runs, and captain Rohit Paudel’s hat-trick in the eleventh over. Only opener Ishan Pandey’s 33 run-innings was of any note.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025121315120_ced9258f9503a03fe53760d5ff420136ea9cfbaf3001512399ec5cafeef25364.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2025121315120_ced9258f9503a03fe53760d5ff420136ea9cfbaf3001512399ec5cafeef25364" data-rendition-name="original" width="1366" height="909" loading="lazy" alt="NPL 2"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251213141232_0b712b438a97b49747029e4b3884b0eeba8ec0ff0bfbc5fd3d61cbb2002a16c2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251213141232_0b712b438a97b49747029e4b3884b0eeba8ec0ff0bfbc5fd3d61cbb2002a16c2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1345" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="NPL 2"> </figure>  The Lions came out with virtually no pressure on them, and Dinesh Adhikari’s 42 off 13 including 27 off the first over bowled by Dipendra Singh Airee won the match. Rohit Paudel came in to finish the match calmly, with 11 overs to spare, scoring two stylish fours and a six before holing out with the Lions on 83.&nbsp; The Lions took comically long to get the final two runs to win the game, losing one more wicket. But it was merely a matter of time, and a single ended the Royal’s misery.&nbsp; As dusk fell, the big fluffy lion mascot was on the field dapping up the Lions as red fireworks went off and Lumbini fans leaped from their seats in the packed stands.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251213141232_ba4c4fde1865c583cf324d253563a0fc96002c31e8381ee85850f71c67515ea9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251213141232_ba4c4fde1865c583cf324d253563a0fc96002c31e8381ee85850f71c67515ea9" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="NPL 2"> </figure>  This capped off an incredible run from the Lions who had finished dead last in NPL Season 1, and had only one win and three losses after four games. They won the remaining three, finishing fourth, barely qualifying.&nbsp; This meant that they had to play an eliminator last week against the Kathmandu Gorkhas and then a qualifier against the popular Biratnagar Kings, whose squad included Sandeep Lamichhane, Faf du Plessis, and Martin Guptill. They won both in style. For the Royals, however, this was the second disappointing final in a row after being the best team in the group stage in both seasons of the NPL. National team batsman Binod Bhandari had had an excellent tournament for the Royals, but was in tears at having come this far again and fallen short.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251213141228_a90fd0afaeec366416efe314464d6b1152bd9cca011346b77914c2037b6b156e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251213141228_a90fd0afaeec366416efe314464d6b1152bd9cca011346b77914c2037b6b156e" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1366" loading="lazy" alt="NPL 2"> </figure>  Despite the final being disappointingly less action-packed for the neutral viewer, the final marked the second successful execution of the NPL. The addition of seats and floodlights at the TU Cricket Stadium overlooking Kathmandu made evening games possible and improved the experience for fans.&nbsp; The floodlights also made for some gorgeous photography as the sun set behind Chandragiri, illuminating the Himalaya to the north in gradually fading shades of orange.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251205041256_280bea0db1d097c88d478f5ba7197b5e2faa05623ebf9c0438af46d85bdb891e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20251205041256_280bea0db1d097c88d478f5ba7197b5e2faa05623ebf9c0438af46d85bdb891e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1366" height="911" loading="lazy" alt="Cricket carnival NT"> <figcaption>Photo: SUMAN NEPALI</figcaption> </figure>  Adam Rossington’s 323 runs, including a century, and Sandeep Lamichhane’s 17 wickets were the standout individual performances across the tournament in the past month.&nbsp; The tournament brought out characters much loved by the vociferous crowd, including ‘Taklu’ Irish commentator Andrew Leonard who worked in a Dhaka Topi, British presenter Jess Crowe who donned a Sari for the final, and Chitwan Rhinos’ charismatic mascot Mr Gaida who entertained the crowd with enthusiastic nonstop dancing.&nbsp; The tournament was such a draw that the university grounds looked like a carnival with food and merchandise stalls. The capacity 10,000 stadium drew such a crowd that Kathmandu streets were relatively quiet on Saturday with people also watching the game live on tv at home.&nbsp; Kathmandu’s residents were genuinely delighted at being able to talk about <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/cricket-carnival">a Nepali cricket tournament</a>, and not about the Indian or English Premier Leagues. And while everyone appreciated the cricket no matter who was playing, fans showed up for their provinces in loud numbers.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251205041256_e96211da042ec3043940f2feca4cd59dd00351af41a4ca029169871f69f51957.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20251205041256_e96211da042ec3043940f2feca4cd59dd00351af41a4ca029169871f69f51957" data-rendition-name="original" width="1366" height="911" loading="lazy" alt="Cricket carnival NT"> <figcaption>Photo: SUMAN NEPALI</figcaption> </figure>  The organisers having proven themselves, future NPLs may need more stadiums in other provinces, even better overseas players.&nbsp; Sambhav Sirohiya of the Kathmandu Media Group ambitiously tweeted that he believes that the league could already become the second most valuable franchise cricket league NEXT SEASON, especially if the government would loosen up its regulations of advertising, especially that of alcohol. Nepali cricketers and fans are now better prepared for the T20 World Cup in India and Sri Lanka in February, with the experience of playing in the NPL and with the access to world-class cricket talent and seeing how they go about excelling at the sport.&nbsp;

Lumbini gets the lion’s share

Singha Bahadur Lama worked for six years in Malaysia, but back home in Nepal he is now earning more than he ever did overseas. Here in his village 60km east of Kathmandu, Lama now harvests Buddhachitta seeds from sacred trees that grow in the mountains, and turns them into prayer bead necklaces revered in Tibetan Buddhism. The Buddhachitta tree (Ziziphus budhensis) is indigenous to Nepal and grows in the mountains of Kavre district, and demand boomed after the Dalai Lama proclaimed that the seeds found in Nepal were the best. People from Kavre had gone to Bodh Gaya 12 years ago and presented the Dalai Lama with Buddhachitta prayer beads. Not long after, while speaking in Taiwan the Dalai Lama told followers that the seeds from Nepal had special powers.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251209141220_dd1fddffc2f22652f57b0fdebe5d0612aa48c79c1e5c1a82da10b1d0a0af69b8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251209141220_dd1fddffc2f22652f57b0fdebe5d0612aa48c79c1e5c1a82da10b1d0a0af69b8" data-rendition-name="original" width="737" height="536" loading="lazy" alt="Buddhachitta NT"> </figure>  Lama shows a visiting journalist different types of Buddhachitta seeds. Single-faced beads are the rarest and most valuable, as are the smallest 8mm beads. A prayer necklace made of 108 beads would easily cost Rs1.5 million (over $10,630). “We cannot say if our trees will give smaller beads or even how many faces or clear eyes, it’s all natural,” says Lama, who now works as a consultant, advising people all over Nepal about planting the tree, and has since spread it across the country. Four years ago, a Chinese middleman made 7mm plastic cups to cover the seeds, hoping the trees would produce smaller pods. It did not work, and the trees died. Such is the demand for high-quality Buddhachitta beads that a group of 20 men employed by a Chinese dealer cut down a tree along the Rosi River last year. The harvest from that tree had made $212,600 the year before. With that kind of price, the trees are in danger of being chopped down. &nbsp; Lama himself used to make Rs10 million ($70,880) from the seeds of each tree. With this money, he built new houses and sent his daughter to Japan, all with Buddhachitta income. But the market for the seeds is volatile.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251209141224_0fd29cdc36db0c3ad5f5add513b8b220d0101760e1c42d5c54266eac7c2dfe75.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251209141224_0fd29cdc36db0c3ad5f5add513b8b220d0101760e1c42d5c54266eac7c2dfe75" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Buddhachitta NT"> </figure>  Lama invested Rs10 million when prices were high ten years ago, but he lost most of that when the prices collapsed for bigger seeds.&nbsp; He adds: “That year the demand was only for small seeds, and it has only been three years since the prices have risen again for seeds that make no sound when you shake them.”&nbsp; HISTORY Legend has it that Guru Rinpoche left seeds of Buddhachitta while meditating in the Temal region of Kavre district in the 8th century as a blessing. He is known in the Himalaya as the ‘Second Buddha’ whose birth was foretold by the Buddha himself, and spread Buddhism in Tibet. Now, almost every household from the Tamang community here has on average 50 trees. The tree thrives on gravel and sandy soil, needs to be protected from excess water, and can grow up to 10 meters high. It starts bearing fruit annually from its third year and one tree lives for 90 years. The fruits are handpicked every June and July, and then have to be processed by boiling the seeds to remove their hard outer skin. The seeds are then dried in the sun for a few days.&nbsp; “Our families have been growing Buddhachitta for generations, but it started becoming hugely profitable only about 12 years ago, it has become a cash crop and has even replaced staples like maize,” says Dev Lama, 55.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251209141224_7820e90f918489045c0668465190df37120167cc7d4401bb128adf931e156bc3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251209141224_7820e90f918489045c0668465190df37120167cc7d4401bb128adf931e156bc3" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Buddhachitta NT"> <figcaption>Dev Lama</figcaption> </figure>  What helps is that Buddhachitta is not a high-maintenance crop, it just needs some weeding, watering, and protection from hailstorms and pesticides. Once it matures, it does not need much care, and farmers intercrop it with other grain.&nbsp; “You don’t have to work on it every year like maize, which needs to be planted year after year,” explains Shova Shrestha, 33. “We also continue to grow other vegetables and spices, all of which help to preserve soil nutrients.” Generally, farmers do not sell directly to Chinese traders but deal with local middlemen who take a cut before they take it to the Chinese traders who lodge in Kathmandu during the harvest season. But the bulk of the profit is made by Chinese wholesalers across the border. &nbsp; And now with the proliferation of the plant, and with nearly every family growing several trees, farmers sometimes struggle to find buyers and are often severely short-changed, as was the case with Maiya Tamang’s family.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251209141220_2d82949a8a32b272216e4f288e976c5af68abf65f52500947ba366526a9b2a2c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251209141220_2d82949a8a32b272216e4f288e976c5af68abf65f52500947ba366526a9b2a2c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Buddhachitta NT"> <figcaption>Maiya Tamang</figcaption> </figure>  “I wasn’t home that day two years ago, but my sons later told me that my husband sold an entire tree for just Rs1,500,” recalls Tamang, 60. “We asked him why he sold it for a price that wouldn’t even buy a sack of rice, and he just shrugged.” Tamang did make a profit two years ago, but last year’s crop was destroyed by a hailstorm. Despite this, the bead business has augmented the income of a family dependent on subsistence agriculture. &nbsp; A neighbour, Sonam Tamang, had a few Buddhachitta trees in his backyard and has bought saplings from a nursery to expand. Saplings cost Rs500, but it is double that for plants that give high value seeds. Says Sonam Tamang: “The middlemen sometimes cheat us by offering much less than the seeds are worth, and they don’t allow us to speak directly with the Chinese buyers. But even if we did, there would be a language barrier.” Meanwhile, Singha Bahadur Lama who started out as a Buddhachitta farmer now owns a nursery and is a dealer in saplings himself. Some Nepalis have tried to sell directly in China, but face added costs of travel and hotel while there. &nbsp; With contributions from Qian Sun, Global Voices.

homestays

Home away from home in Nepal

Homestays keep former migrants in Nepal

The Himalaya is not fragile

My father’s son

Lumbini gets the lion’s share

Sacred seed feeds boom