Sujan Rawat had come to Kathmandu from Karnali in the hope of somehow <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/dead-end-of-the-korean-dream">making it to Korea</a> to pay off family debt. His dreams and that of his family back home was dashed on Friday on the Ring Road in Kathmandu. He was one of the two aspirants hoping to go to Korea who were killed in a police charge at Balkumari in Lalitpur. Applicants for <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Korea-treating-Nepali-migrant-workers-right,2813">Korea jobs</a> had gathered at the Korean Employment Permit System (EPS) office in Balkumari to protest a recent decision that disallowed them from applying for a mandatory Korean language test.&nbsp; The angry protesters set fire to the car of Physical Infrastructure and Transport Minister Prakash Jwala. As the violence intensified, riot police was deployed to control the situation. They charged the agitators with batons as well as firing tear gas and rubber bullets.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20231230121220_c84479e7c80b289e0f55ad48a39f66a1ee042738c90bb63d5465dba6336a8b10.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20231230121220_c84479e7c80b289e0f55ad48a39f66a1ee042738c90bb63d5465dba6336a8b10" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1306" loading="lazy" alt="Balkumari EPS protest"> <figcaption>Protesters set fire to the car of Physical Infrastructure and Transport Minister Prakash Jwala.</figcaption> </figure>  Rawal had left his room earlier in the morning looking for his older brother who had also joined the protest. Having arrived in Kathmandu just a week before, Rawat did not know his way around but managed to reach Balkumari. Rawat was just walking on his side of the road when the police suddenly charged at him, said Roshan Katuwal, a relative. “He wasn’t there to protest, he was minding his own business when the police took him for one of the demonstrators,” he told Nepali Times. “A heavy blow to his chest is what killed him.” Rawat was taken to the nearby KIST Hospital but there wasn't much doctors could do to save his life. “He was brought in unconscious at 12:40PM, he succumbed to his injuries at 1:17PM while undergoing treatment,” Amish Pathak, executive officer of KIST Hospital told us. “He had a blue bruise on his chest.” Rawat had followed his older brother to Kathmandu from Dailekh Bazar where his family ran a small shop. But when his father was diagnosed with a brain tumor, the family could not afford treatment. They incurred debts, the responsibility of which had fallen on Rawat to clear. “His father passed away less than a year ago and now this has befallen the family,” added Katuwal. Rawat has a mother and a younger sister and a brother back home who had all their hopes pinned on Rawat. Rawat himself wanted to continue his studies after completing high school. But his family situation meant he didn't see any other option but to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/delayed-dreams-for-korea-bound-nepalis">migrate overseas</a> to pay off the loans.&nbsp; As soon as he reached Kathmandu, Rawat enrolled himself in a Korean language class and was preparing for the EPS exam. Birendra Shah of Achham was seriously injured in the police charge on Friday, and taken to Patan Hospital but he died during the treatment. The government has announced Rs1 million in compensation for the families of Rawat and Shah, as well as suspension of the key security officials involved until further investigations. The protest was triggered by a notice published by the EPS office which stated that for the applicants to be eligible to apply for the test, they should not have done so in 2023. In many ways, the protest is a representation of the frustration and desperation of the youths against the political system that does not even ensure basic rights and jobs to the people. Oftentimes, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/50-diaspora-diaries-in-nepali-times">labour migration is their only hope</a>. Following the notice, 12 individuals including Tarka Bahadur Paul filed a writ in the Patan High Court on 28 December. The single bench of Judge Chandramani Gyawali gave an interim order not to stop anyone from filling out the application form for the Korean language test, stating that it was a violation of their rights. The court's order states, '...as the petition presented by these petitioners will be addressed during the final hearing, from the point of view of the irreparable damage to the petitioners and inconvenience, it is not reasonable to deprive the petitioners of filling the application form, and interested persons of the same nature as the petitioners...' As per the order, all the agitating youths will now be able to apply for the EPS exam. But Rawat and Shah will have lost their lives in vain. There are about 80,000 <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Korean-kafala-migrants-in-Korea,4025">Nepali migrant workers in Korea’s farms and factories</a> and their situation is better than other countries in the Gulf. Salaries are higher and labour rights are guaranteed. Which is why there is such high demand from Nepali migrants for jobs in Korea. The EPS exam system is supposed to streamline the selection process, but it ended up costing the lives of two promising young lads.

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Karnali to Korea dream dashed in Kathmandu

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111414114/63723d249c7e80680e0c965ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1280" height="718"/><figcaption>Raju at Tilicho Lake while guiding Korean trekking guests. All Photos: RAJU SUBEDI.</figcaption></figure>This is the 18th instalment of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/diaspora-diaries-1/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Diaspora Diaries</a>, a regular series in Nepali Times with stories of Nepalis living and working abroad. Raju SubediI never intended to migrate overseas for work. But there was talk that families affected during the Maoist period would get a special labour quota in South Korea under its <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/from-nepali-press/Seoul-searching,1387" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Employment Permit System (EPS)</a>. My father, who had been wounded during the conflict, encouraged me to prepare for the EPS Korean language test. And I did.The special quota rumour turned out to be false, but my preparation did not go to waste. I passed my EPS language test for which I prepared at the travel company I worked for. Back then, there was just one language book to prepare from. I was familiar with using the internet because of our online bookings, the concept of using the net to study was foreign to me. Soon in 2008, I was on a plane full of Nepalis in EPS hats and jackets heading out.I was homesick and the job at a manufacturing company was physically taxing. It was a difficult first three months. Perhaps if I had grown up in Kaskikot, the village where I was born, I would have been more accustomed to physical labour. But my parents had moved to Pokhara when I was very young, and the only work I had done was a desk job at the travel company.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111414114/63723d279c7e80680e0c965bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="720" height="540"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111414114/63723d2a9c7e80680e0c965cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="720" height="540">Raju Subedi in Korea.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111414114/63723d2c9c7e80680e0c965djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="666">Sometimes, my hands hurt so much when I woke up after 12 hours of work the day before that I had difficulty even opening the door. My back also started to hurt, and it was clear that the job was not for me. So, I asked my employer to give me a release letter so I could move to another job. It took a while, but he agreed reluctantly.I ended up switching jobs multiple times. One of them was piling up cartons at another company. I thought that was also too taxing, only to realise that the next job at a car parts company was even harder. The company was prohibited by immigration rules from renewing the visas of foreign workers even though they liked my work as they had just let go of two local employees. A <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/power-of-workers-working-together/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">migrant worker support group</a> stepped in and decided to sue the company and the government on my behalf.I had three options: return to Nepal, to stay on illegally, or to fight a legal battle. The last one made the most sense. The court case bought me time to legally stay in South Korea while the case was pending. But I did not have a work permit so I had to work illegally.An irregular status makes you vulnerable and easier to discriminate against whether in pay or just how a worker is treated overall by employers and fellow-workers. The court’s verdict finally made the company pay me a month’s basic salary as compensation, but my visa was not renewed. I subsequently applied for refugee status which was also eventually declined. I did not bother to appeal the decision, and after seven years in Korea I came home for good.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-qatar-job-mirage/">The Qatar job mirage</a>, Nepali Times<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111414114/63723d2e9c7e80680e0c965ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1280" height="718"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The bright side of the legal battle was that it forced me to learn Korean. Earlier I had learnt Korean just to pass an exam, and by the time I had got the job it had been two years and I had forgotten most of what I had learnt. My colleagues were from Nepal and other Asian countries which meant I did not have to speak Korean much.It was only when I quit my job and applied for a new one that I realised just how rusty my language skills were. I scrambled to find Nepali seniors who spoke the language fluently whenever I got a call about a potential employment opportunity.But in court, the desperation to express myself made me learn Korean more diligently, and watch Korean movies a couple of hours everyday. It was not formal training, but life experiences that drove me to learn the language.Fighting a legal battle in a foreign country is not easy. It was difficult to take time off from work because a worker’s worth is measured solely by how much we produce. Then when my employers found out I was fighting a legal battle, they wanted to disassociate from me. They did not want to be found out hiring an irregular worker.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111414114/63723d319c7e80680e0c965fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1280" height="718"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>No matter how difficult it got for me in Korea, whether because I lost my jobs or struggled to find new employment, or the legal case which was an uphill battle, the thought of coming back to Nepal never crossed my mind even remotely. I had bought land in Nepal and was bent on staying on until I paid off my loans. Furthermore, if I did not make it in Korea, I was convinced that I would not be able to make it in life. I, too, wanted to be a Korean success story just like many other returnees I had met in Korea and Nepal.I struggled a lot. We Nepalis referred to the glittery ‘Korean dream’ as "दुई गुणा अन्ठाउन्न” — referring to the Rs200,000 monthly salary over a 58-month period, which was our target earnings. That kind of money would transform my life.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111414114/63723d349c7e80680e0c9660jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="720" height="1280"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>We did not realise that we may not always earn the promised Rs200,000 a month because overtime may not always be available to top up our basic salary. Or we may not be physically able to do physically demanding overtime work. Besides being difficult, routine and repetitive tasks day in and day out can also be mentally taxing. Since the time I was there, things have improved for foreign workers in Korea and perhaps lessons from the experiences of EPS predecessors like us help make adjustments to the program.The journey of my life was full of challenges. But I met the kindest Koreans. One taught me how to repair mobile phones, a skill that has come in very handy. Another hired me back even though I had quit after he found out I was struggling with the court case. I was offered shelter and legal support by strangers who just wanted to help migrants in distress like myself. Before I left Korea, my colleagues even raised money to spend on anything I wanted. There were moments and people who touched me deeply.It turns out that my connection with Korea only grew stronger after I returned to Nepal in 2015. While I was still trying to decide what was next for me, a friend recommended me to his Korean client who wanted to go trekking in Nepal. At that time, I did not even know that many Koreans came to Nepal for trekking — and a majority of them hiked to Annapurna Base Camp. The client also ran a trekking outfit company in Korea and started recommending me to people.I started organising treks for more and more Korean guests, and soon my Seoul Pokhara Travel and Tours became known in Korea as one of the best Nepali travel companies. I have employed four Nepali Korea returnees and two who have passed the Korean exam and are waiting to go to Korea for work.My clients are entirely Korean, and the business was going quite well until the Covid-19 pandemic struck. But tourism has revived and on 12 September alone, for example, I was looking after 12 Korean trekking teams simultaneously. There are some other trekking agencies in Pokhara also catering to Korean clients. Soon, I plan to also start a Korean restaurant in Pokhara.I may have learnt Korean out of desperation to tell my story in Korea, but it is serving me well today back home in Nepal.Translated from a conversation with the author. <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/diaspora-diaries-3/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Diaspora Diaries</a> is a regular column in Nepali Times providing a platform for Nepalis to share their experiences of living, working, studying abroad.Authentic and original entries can be sent to <a href="mailto:editors@nepalitimes.com" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">editors@nepalitimes.com</a> with Diaspora Diaries in the subject line. Read also: <a style="font-weight: 600; letter-spacing: 0.15px; background-color: #ffffff; outline: 0px;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/between-home-and-the-deep-blue-sea/">Between home and the deep blue sea</a>, Prakash Gurung

Speaking the language of overseas work

<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161152/636d1e539c7e80680e0af403jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1600" height="1200"/>Nepal and Korea have signed an agreement worth $8.6 million to establish a polytechnic institute for construction workforce development in Province 2. The seven-year project will be implemented by KOICA and the CTEVT at its model polytechnic institute in Bardibas, Mohattrai district.

Nepal-Korea polytechnic

<figure><img width="816" height="612" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161148/636d1df69c7e80680e0af3e3jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Aakash KC finally flew to Korea on 13 December to rejoin his job after being stranded in Nepal for two years. Photo: AAKASH KC</figcaption></figure>When Aakash KC flew to Kathmandu from Seoul in February 2020, he was looking forward to a three-month break in Nepal from his job in South Korea. Little did he know that he would be stranded for almost two agonising years in Nepal due to the pandemic. KC finally flew back to Seoul on Monday after months of uncertainty because of confusing information on Covid, flip-flopping rules. “As per Korean law, I had to come to Nepal for three months before resuming with same employer for another five years,” KC said as he prepared to leave. KC is part of the much-coveted <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Korea-treating-Nepali-migrant-workers-right,2813" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Employment Permit Scheme (EPS)</a>, a government-to-government partnership between Nepal and Korea to supply workers, and is luckier than most other Nepali migrants because he had an employer who waited to have him back. KC had to renew his Certificate for Confirmation of Visa Issuance (CCVI) multiple times with help from his Korean employer. He said: “I used to feel anxious when co-workers from Sri Lanka had returned to their jobs in Korea whereas my future was uncertain.” KC’s employer was not just patient, he even sent him financial help during the early months of the pandemic. It is a testament to the hard work and trust that Nepali workers like KC have built with their Korean employers that they are willing to do that.  <img width="455" height="286" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161148/636d1df89c7e80680e0af3e4jpeg.jpg" alt="">KC did not look for any other options during the past two years, although he was tempted to prepare for Nepal’s civil service exams. He has retained his language skills, and earlier this week was excited about returning to Korea. To be sure, not everyone is as lucky as KC. Sunita Gurung worked on a farm in Korea, and received her CCVI for continued employment. But her employer cancelled because the process dragged on for too long, leaving her heartbroken and helpless. “I understand why he did that,” Gurung said. “How long can an employer wait when I could not confirm when I could return?” For over 10,000 other Nepalis who passed the competitive Korean language and skills exams, the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/labour-mobility/crossborder-virus-and-nepali-migrant-workers/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">pandemic has been a roller coaster ride</a>. They were too far along the process to let go of lucrative job opportunities in Korea that guarantees high wages and a secure future.  <figure><img width="960" height="720" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161148/636d1dfa9c7e80680e0af3e5jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Nepali workers boarding a Korean Air flight in Kathmandu this week after being stuck for nearly two years. Korea is opening up cautiously to see if there is another Covid surge. Photo: AAKASH KC</figcaption></figure>The workers saw the Gulf and Malaysia opening up after the lockdowns, and could not understand why Korea was still closed. Some workers were under pressure from their families to take up whatever overseas job was available. “When my family saw others from the community headed to Gulf, they asked why I could not do the same. They don’t understand,” said one worker. All the uncertainty and false alarms over the past year and a half has taken a toll on the mental health of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Korean-kafala-migrants-in-Korea,4025" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">aspirants for Korea</a>. The lack of clear information also means confusion about whether the delay was due to Covid-19 restrictions in Nepal or Korea, vaccine status, or the result of insufficient diplomatic lobbying by the Nepal government.It has not helped that for almost three years, there has not been a Nepali ambassador in Seoul. Junior embassy staff do not have the same access and influence as an ambassador, and the country’s labour diplomacy has suffered as a result.“We knew it was due to public health concerns and the Korea government was using similar criteria to all EPS partner countries to assess whether to allow workers or not, but our government was also not being proactive,” said Askash KC who <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/delayed-dreams-for-korea-bound-nepalis/">took to the streets</a> earlier this year to put pressure on the Nepal government to lobby with the Koreans.  <figure><img width="2048" height="1536" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161148/636d1dfc9c7e80680e0af3e6jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Trilok Pant finally flew to Korea in October after waiting for nearly two years and is back at his job. "Work has started in full swing," he says. Photo: TRILOK PANT</figcaption></figure>The EPS Struggle Committee met government officials, including all five labour ministers in the past two years. A running joke within the Struggle Committee was that one labour minister who lasted only a few days in office earlier this year asked the members who had gone to appeal to him: “What is EPS?”The South Koreans had set three criteria for the corridors to resume: the presence of direct, regular flights to Incheon, all migrants buy Covid-19 insurance, and workers pay for ten-day quarantines on arrival in Korea. All these criteria were met, and despite the added cost to the workers, Nepalis finally started flying to Korea in October. Trilok Pant was among the first lot that went to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/dead-end-of-the-korean-dream/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Korea</a> in October after spending 22 months here. “There was so much excitement among the 48 Nepalis who went on the first flight,” he said on the phone from Korea. “Work has started in full swing now.”Like KC, Pant was also lucky to have a kind employer who sent him money during the pandemic, and waited for him as he renewed his CCVI four times because it only had six-month validity. “On my first day out of quarantine, he took us out for dinner,” Pant recalled. “It was a happy reunion.” <figure><img width="2048" height="1536" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161148/636d1dff9c7e80680e0af3e7jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Trilok Pant with his co-workers, including Nepalis, in Korea pre-pandemic. Photo: TRILOK PANT</figcaption></figure>In the 22 months that he was stranded in Nepal, Pant did not do any work because of the uncertainty about Korea. But Korean employers, too, have faced problems because their workers could not get back. Nepalis mostly are on jobs that locals will not do, especially not for the salaries for migrant workers. “Nepalis have a reputation for hard work and honesty, which worked to our advantage this time as our employers waited for us patiently amid all the uncertainty and inconvenience,” Pant added. For now, only a small proportion of those waiting have been <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/the-long-wait-before-flight/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">able to rejoin jobs</a>, and the Koreans appear to opening up cautiously to see if there is a Covid surge. Only if all goes well in the coming months will more workers be let in. And there are thousands of Nepalis waiting to fly out.

Long wait over, Nepalis return to Korea

<figure><img width="777" height="1035" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111012110/636cda0e9c7e80680e092ed8jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>One of many rallies organised by the EPS Struggle Committee in which Nepali migrant workers prevented from going to Korea have taken part. Photos: AJAY SODARI AND BIRENDRA BOGATI</figcaption></figure>From his early years, Bhim Oli from Dang knew that he wanted to go abroad to work and earn so that he could support his family. His dream, like that of many Nepali men, was to work hard and make a comfortable living for his family.On the top of that list for overseas job destinations was Korea. But the preparation costs for South Korea’s Employment Permit Scheme (EPS), language training, food and lodging expenses in Kathmandu were exorbitant.For the majority of Nepali migrant workers, the Gulf and Malaysia are final destination countries. But for Oli, Qatar was a means to an end. He took up a stint in Qatar as a waiter after completing his Bachelor’s, with a singular purpose of saving up enough so he could return and focus on his preparations for Korean language tests.The now-familiar acronym EPS usually conjures up images of tens of thousands of Nepalis lining up to register for the mandatory Korean language tests. Since 2008, over 66,000 Nepalis have obtained jobs in South Korea through this program in the agriculture and manufacturing sectors. The exam itself has been taken by a staggering 585,000 Nepalis, but less than one-tenth of the test-takers eventually get a job in Korea.  <figure><img width="720" height="405" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111012110/636cda119c7e80680e092ed9jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>After toiling for 18 months in Qatar as a ‘target earner’, Oli returned to Nepal with savings of Rs650,000 to begin his preparation for the Korean EPS. In 2017, he failed his exam. Undeterred, he studied harder for the next one and was one of the 7,996 who passed it, out of 82,264 test-takers in 2018.“I cannot afford to go to the US. The only option for people like us to try to go to the US is via irregular channels, which costs over 40 lakhs (Rs4 million). Savings in the Middle East or Malaysia are nominal, so I was eyeing Japan and Korea as the best alternatives,” he explains. “In Korea, I can expect to earn one crore (Rs 10 million) in 4 years 10 months, an amount that would be impossible elsewhere.”But his dreams came crashing down with the onset of the pandemic. Oli was matched with his employer on 3 March, 2020. But unfortunately his employer cancelled his contract in December after he had been waiting for over six months.The pandemic has thrown the prospect of the new cohorts of aspirant EPS workers in a limbo. The flight restrictions, lockdown and the classification of Nepal by South Korea in the ‘red zone’ for public health reasons has riddled the past year with uncertainties.“They have other options to bring in workers from East Asian countries where mobility has not been barred, so it is understandable,” Bhim Oli says. “Thankfully, I have been matched with another employer but am worried that I will again lose this opportunity if things don’t change soon.”His story is not unique.For Ajay Sodari from Kailali, the lure of South Korea came from the transformation he saw in the living standard in the life of an acquaintance. It seemed within reach for someone like him from a humble background, if he only put in the effort. Unfortunately, he failed the Korean language test in Kathmandu in 2018. Unable to afford another expensive stay in Kathmandu, he went to Himachal, India for four months to pick apples, earned around Rs80,000 and used that money to survive in the city as he prepared diligently. “I studied around 18 hours a day for the language test—I had not studied that hard for my SLC, 12th or Bachelors, but I finally managed to pass in 2019,” says Sodari. It was also the year that the government of Korea made an additional skills test mandatory, so it took another few months of preparation. Luckily, he passed. Altogether, 92,000 individuals took the test that year, of which only 12,000 passed.Sodari was selected to work in an aluminium company. He was thrilled when the cabinet decided in May 2020, to let workers head to South Korea. But the decision has been confined to announcements, as none of the migrants have been able to travel.Frustrated, and knowing that there were thousands of others in his situation, Sodari started a group called <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepali-overseas-workers-who-remain-behind/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepali-overseas-workers-who-remain-behind/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1617157112261000&amp;usg=AFQjCNEr9_-0OaHXf451xm0auj-YqR5hKQ">EPS Struggle Committee</a> and staged a protest at the Mandala in Kathmandu. They have held three such <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/the-long-wait-before-flight/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/the-long-wait-before-flight/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1617157112261000&amp;usg=AFQjCNHQsUwKBvvQc3UPCcNadPKprzpdFg">protests</a> in the last 13 months, bringing together hundreds of migrants from all over Nepal, but to no avail.The group has turned to various authorities for help, beginning from labour ministers, to Korean and Nepal government authorities. While they are only met with empty promises and false assurances, they remain persistent in their efforts to get things moving. But the absence of a Nepali ambassador in Seoul for the last two years has adversely affected active diplomacy. <figure><img width="1822" height="1236" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111012110/636cda139c7e80680e092edajpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>“The issuance of visas has been stopped due to public health concerns. Until last week, Nepal was included in the red zone. But as of last week, they have lifted Nepal from this category and partially started issuing visas in certain categories, like for students,” says Indra Gautam, Director of the EPS Department. “Gradually, they will start issuing visas for EPS workers as well and we are putting in the necessary requests.”In addition to public health concerns, the Korean side has also expressed concern about a high number of fraudulent cases among test-takers from Nepal. Gautam says that this is currently being worked on, “We are now looking to conduct the exams online and to use biometrics to address the issue of fraud. The preparations are ongoing and once done, we will release information about the dates for the next examinations.”The men who have been waiting report that they have not just lost face in their families, but also money and suffered overwhelming mental stress. Sodari and other others in waiting say they do not want to be bargaining chips in the negotiations. “We have invested so much time and money and cannot afford to give up on our dreams. But this has been dragging on for so long, we cannot invest in businesses here, migrate to another country because we will be left neither here nor there as this will eventually work out,” he says.Gautam says the preparation towards a more transparent testing system affects the dates for the new test-takers. It is not tied to the issuance of visas for outgoing workers which is due to a public health concern.Since 2008, Nepalis have been taking their chances in this highly competitive program alongside competitors from 15 other countries from South and Southeast Asia. The annual quota has fluctuated, which is attributed to the domestic labour demand in Korea as expressed by employers, diplomatic ties, and the number of workers who overstay their legally allotted time that can penalise the country quota in the subsequent years. <figure><img width="1752" height="806" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111012110/636cda169c7e80680e092edbjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The volume of workers from Nepal and Cambodia, in particular, had become relatively more important over the years. One of the reasons for it was the rising share of these <a href="https://openknowledge.worldbank.org/handle/10986/30471" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://openknowledge.worldbank.org/handle/10986/30471&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1617157112261000&amp;usg=AFQjCNFw-nkRksmltNSgesrDoce1dI364A">workers in the agriculture sector</a>. The number to be hired from Nepal remains uncertain. Korea's EPS was given the <a href="https://openknowledge.worldbank.org/handle/10986/30471">UN 2011 Public Service Award</a> in the 'Preventing and Combating Corruption in the Public Service' category. An evaluation of this program in the Philippines, one of the 16 EPS partner countries, showed the impact on households of workers -- an <a href="https://www.econstor.eu/bitstream/10419/69347/1/731593413.pdf">increase in monthly expenditure</a> by 30-60% with most of it in health and education. In 2021, about 52,000 workers are expected to be hired from the partner countries.   To be sure, the aspirants are also aware that life in South Korea is not going to be easy as there are aspects that give the employer the upper hand. The difficulties in changing jobs and mismanaged expectations present a whole gamut of other challenges.  Nepalis who pass the EPS exams are educated, whereas the jobs they are offered are what are categorised as ‘dirty, dangerous and demeaning’. Mismatched expectations along with expectations from families can be unbearable for some. Some migrants succumb to the pressure as has been previously reported in <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/dead-end-of-the-korean-dream/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/dead-end-of-the-korean-dream/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1617157112261000&amp;usg=AFQjCNEHeJ184AhaxNadCHqrToezGdnDkQ">Nepali Times</a>. Of the 143 deaths of Nepalis between 2009 and 2018, for example, 43 were suicide cases which got the attention of policymakers from both countries but little by way of action.  <figure><img width="720" height="480" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111012110/636cda189c7e80680e092edcjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Even after the onset of the pandemic, while aspirants are waiting to be employed in South Korea, the country itself has been receiving flak for certain measures it proposed. Recently, for example, a proposal requiring all foreign workers to get tested has received much criticism, including from the Nepali community in Korea. This proposal was quickly withdrawn <a href="https://www.reuters.com/article/us-health-coronavirus-southkorea-idUSKBN2BB0MK" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.reuters.com/article/us-health-coronavirus-southkorea-idUSKBN2BB0MK&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1617157112261000&amp;usg=AFQjCNHLRUNfgnGRZMgZwp56Cpy5LnkG_Q">in the face of criticism</a>.It is not just new workers who have been impacted by Covid-19. Of the estimated 10,000 EPS workers stranded, a significant number are committed workers who completed over four years of stay already and were returning. The Korean government has imposed a ‘4 years 10 months’ cap, a way to ensure that migrant workers under EPS cannot qualify for permanent residency, which is available to foreigners in Korea after they reside legally for five years or longer. <figure><img width="1378" height="1038" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111012110/636cda1b9c7e80680e092eddjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Prakash Shrestha, a member of the EPS Struggle Committee, is a returnee migrant, who wants to go back to Korea to the same employer. “Once we land in Korea, we already dream of returning to Korea as committed workers for another 4 years and ten months, so we can double our savings,” he says.Prior to moving to Korea, Shrestha worked in a restaurant in Kathmandu but was not able to save much with his monthly earnings of Rs 12,000.He competed with 64,000 individuals taking the EPS exam in 2014. His starting salary in Korea was Rs101,000. By the time he left in 2019, he was earning close to Rs300,000 a month.He was supposed to return at the end of February 2020 as a ‘committed worker’ but has been stuck in Nepal. “I was so close to flying out and resuming my job that would have been safe for the next four years. What a difference a few days can make,” adds Shrestha, admitting that the stress has taken a toll on his mental health.“My employer, luckily, has been patient and is willing to wait for me. Having worked with the same employer for four and a half years, we have developed trust and familiarity with each other so I feel fortunate,” says Shrestha. Like many others, he is now waiting for the announcement to be allowed to fly back to Korea.

Upasana Khadka

Delayed dreams for Korea-bound Nepalis

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101120/636b711e9c7e80680e0600b4jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="902"/><figcaption>Nepal's great income divide. Photo: BIKRAM RAI</figcaption></figure>Anyone who visits Nepal seeking <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/invest-in-investment/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">investment opportunities</a> will look at two indicators: the first is the exchange rate of the Nepali rupee against major currencies, and the second is the state of the toilet in <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/kathmandu-airport-is-nepal-in-a-microcosm/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">the airport</a> arrival hall.When asked a simple question such as, “How far is Bhaktapur from Thamel?” The answer in kilometers may be easy but it is nearly impossible to answer in units of time. The answer therefore will be, “It depends”. What does it depend on? Well that also depends.In a country where we cannot tell anyone how long it will take to get to the next city, we have the world’s most complex and sophisticated statistics to indicate <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepals-great-income-divide/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">where Nepal stands</a> on anything and everything compared to the rest of the world.Does this country really need a Human Development Index, a Doing Business Index, a <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/Nepal-%20Multidimensional-Poverty-Index,4115" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Multi-dimensional Poverty Index</a> and many others? How do you monitor and verify so many <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-rises-in-prosperity-index/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">indicators</a>?It is quite obvious that the number of tigers in Chitwan is an indicator for the deer population there, and the grazing area and water available to the deer. <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/how-many-tigers-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The tiger count</a> would serve as a proxy indicator for the state of the environment.The system of conducting a national census was first carried out in the United States in 1790. In Nepal, the first census was conducted in 1911 during the reign of Prime Minister Chandra Shamsher. We are now preparing for the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-in-the-2020s/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">National Census 2021</a>, which will provide many indicators that will then hopefully be used to set priorities and allocate our scarce financial resources.The reason we cannot say how long it will take to get to Bhaktapur is because of the huge traffic jam at Koteshwor. Is the number of two- and four-wheel vehicles that converge at this junction and many others in the valley an indicator of the failure of seventy years of rural <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/how-will-nepal-develop-in-the-next-decade/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">development</a>?Why are people not staying in the villages where the government has been pumping annual budgets for as long as we know?It is very unpopular to tell development experts that rural Nepal does not need another school building because the parents have moved their children to the cities or to India or further afield. Pregnant women move to the nearest urban area with its good maternity health facilities when they are six months into their pregnancies.Two and half billion people will need old-age care globally by 2030 and this indicates that nursing is a good choice of profession. The sizes of different hoarding boards at major street junctions indicate which countries top the list of places to which young Nepalis are aspiring to move. <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/why-nepalis-are-flocking-to-okinawa/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Japan</a> and <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/dead-end-of-the-korean-dream/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Korea</a> seem to be most popular, and yet these billboards are small compared to the English boarding school signs found all over Nepal.The ruling parties of Nepal have a vision and a mission -- prosperous Nepal, happy Nepalis. Can we agree on three indicators for each and hold politicians accountable to them? And then make sure that each cabinet and parliament session always begins by re-visiting these six indicators and reporting to the citizens on where we stand on each?A problem with statistics is that data can be bent every which way. For example, does the high growth we have seen in the domestic airline business indicate Nepalis are getting rich or that <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepals-deadly-roads-take-their-toll/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">road travel is risky</a>?Does the growing number of private hospitals indicate wealth or that people are becoming sick? Does the increased forest cover in Nepal indicate that people have internalised conservation or that <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/look-whats-cooking-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">imported LPG</a> and cement have made it redundant to collect firewood and building materials?While GDP per capita is the most popular indicator we use, we know few report their true income. Should income be replaced by the prices of the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/new-news/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">phones we carry</a> or the size of the TV owned or <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepals-electric-transport-future-is-here/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">vehicle driven</a>?Indicators are a good management tool, but we often do not like to be held accountable to them. There are too many variables that affect our work and hence the goal post keeps changing. But if we agree that the toilet at the airport is a critical indicator to inspire potential investors, we need to make it functional and impressive.Anil Chitrakar is President of Siddharthinc

Anil Chitrakar

Counting what counts in Nepal

<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108151128/636a67809c7e80680e0599dfjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3000" height="1252"/>Road-trips are not an established genre in Nepali films, like romance, action or comedy even though they may have all these elements. But in the last few years more than a few have made it to commercial cinema as a trend.Road trip movies tend to be mostly romantic and usually feature guy and girl trekking to Jomsom or Mustang with a gaggle of friends to bicker and eventually fall in love. Dollops of crude and convoluted sex jokes spice up the script, and keep the plot moving.There is usually a dead parent, a crazed brother or a failing orphanage in the mix as part of a thinly established back story or a point of conflict. The mountains always glisten in the backdrop as romance blossoms. It is a Nepali movie-goers have to suffer.However, there are a few memorable films within the sub-genre if we look at the last couple of decades. <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/issue/344/Interview/13437#.XgSKDVUzaUk" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Caravan</a>, <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=14366#.XgSKIlUzaUk" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Kaagbeni</a> and <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19506#.XgSJ5lUzaUk" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Highway</a> come to mind – adventure, horror, and the last a political drama.<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.themoviedb.org/movie/631523-ama-khando?language=en-US" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Ama Khando</a> is an addition to this list. It is an intimate comedy-drama depicting the journey of two families from Lo Manthang in Mustang to Pokhara, as part of an annual trip. But this year is different, especially for the little boy who is co-lead with his mother in the film.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=drOXmPvz2l8The eponymous Khando of the movie’s title is Ama, or mother, to a school-skipping, fight-picking 10-year-old who never seems to listen to her. Even though the film’s central relationship is between Khando and her son Dhondup, the family friends who are travelling with them also ebb and flow inside the story.The elder son Lobsang of the other family wrestles with his fate of having to abandon his studies for a lack of money, and has a terse relationship with his father because of this.Khando, a financially vulnerable single mother is also frustrated with her son as she worries for his future. The elders in the story are concerned for their children’s prospects in the difficult terrain of Mustang as the world closes in. Even though they are conflicted about the idea of the city, its bustle and pollution are a draw.For young adults like Lobsang the idea of remaining farmers is financially and socially unattractive. Much like most of our young migrants overseas, they can only be nostalgic for a homeland they are already moving away from.For children like Dhondup , who does not care for much beyond food, entertainment and his long lost father, these larger themes do not interfere in his small adventures, but will eventually decide his fate.Writer-director Tshering Dhondup is from <a href="https://nepalitimes.atavist.com/high-and-dry-upper-mustang" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Upper Mustang</a>, and drew from personal experiences to create this story. He plays himself in some portions of the film and so does his own mother, and his friends have roles too.The film is made up of little moments, small talk and chance encounters. There are no spectacles here, but much like the colossal mountains that make for the background in this journey, brooding themes of love, loss and identity are quietly visible under the surface.  Here at least, the mountains do stand for something. Here is a road movie where the characters are real and the emotional stakes highly resonant.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108151128/636a67839c7e80680e0599e0jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="990" height="756"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The film does occasionally falter (musical cues seem needlessly placed and expose a proclivity for forced sentimentality, and some handheld shots feel random) but in the larger scheme of things, Ama Khando works.And one reason it does is the lead actress Pema Dolker Gurung’s performance which is unencumbered by showiness and lends itself so beautifully to the screen. The score by Pushpa-Sangam, and the understated cinematography by Ali Rasheed and Manoj Panta blend well.Made by a skeletal crew and under the painful circumstances that come with filming in far off locations on a shoestring budget, the film nevertheless has heart enough to travel. The film was selected for the prestigious <a href="https://www.biff.kr/eng/html/program/prog_view.asp?idx=42642&amp;c_idx=332&amp;sp_idx=&amp;QueryStep=2">Busan Film Festival</a> and the <a href="http://pibarchive.nic.in/newsite/photoright.aspx?phid=149731">50th International Film Festival of India in Goa</a>, coming home in December to a warm reception at the Kathmandu International Film Festival, where it won the audience award for best film.

Ama Khando: a different road trip film from Nepal

<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 src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108111156/636a369c9c7e80680e04831ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="933"/><figcaption>RENEWABLE TRANSPORT: Symbolic gestures like President Bidya Devi Bhandari using an electric limousine, and more practical tax breaks for EVs have won Nepal international praise for a proactive energy policy. However, reforms are still needed to encourage electric public transport. Pic: THE PRESIDENT’S OFFICE</figcaption></figure>Residents of Kathmandu by now know that they breathe some of the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/every-breath-you-take-air-pollution" target="_blank" rel="noopener">dirtiest air in the world</a>. But unlike elsewhere, that awareness has not created the public opinion pressure to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/open-air/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">force politicians to act</a>.Up to 35,000 Nepalis lose their lives annually due to diseases caused by air pollution. One in every 10 people in Kathmandu suffers from chronic lung diseases like COPD, bronchitis and emphysema. The average life expectancy of Nepalis <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/air-pollution-decreases-life-span,3999" target="_blank" rel="noopener">is reduced</a> by over two and one-half years because of air pollution.“We have seen that electric public transportation <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/guest-editorial/public-transport-is-equal-to-public-health,844" target="_blank" rel="noopener">can improve public health by reducing pollution</a>,” says Sajha Yatayat Executive Director Bhushan Tuladhar. “Recent advances in electric transport provide the solution. What is sorely lacking in Nepal is political will, long-term commitment and strategic planning for electric mobility.”Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=25485&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Life in the time of tornados</a>, Ajaya DixitIndeed, Nepal’s policy makers no longer have an excuse to do nothing about air pollution: they can follow the example of China and India and announce a national campaign to switch to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/cleaner-air-with-greener-buses/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">electric public transport</a>.India is rolling out 7,000 electric buses this year. The Delhi Metro is now powered by solar energy and plans to go fully solar by 2021.All 16,000 public buses in Shenzhen are electric. China has replaced all its petrol two-wheelers with electric motorcycles and scooters.Global demand for electric vehicles is rising rapidly, and manufacturers are having a hard time meeting demand, mainly because of the shortage of lithium ion batteries. The sale of electric vehicles overtook fossil-fuel cars in Norway last month.Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/electri-city-cars/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Electri-City Cars</a>, Sikuma Rai<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/20-electric-by-2020/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">20% electric by 2020</a>, Om Astha RaiHere in Nepal, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/electri-city-cars/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">electric cars</a> now make up 10% all of all new sales. The first 40 Hyundai Kona EV sold out as soon as they arrived, and the next batch of 40 are already booked. In fact, Hyundai launched Kona in Nepal before it did so in Australia and the US. The Korean car-maker listed Nepal as a top priority market in the Asia- Pacific because of tax breaks for electric vehicles here.“We were able to convince the manufacturers that Nepal was ready to go electric because of our hydropower potential and the tax difference between electric and non-electric vehicles that showed a strong government commitment,” explained Nirakar Shrestha of Laxmi InterContinental, which represents Hyundai in Nepal.While the retail price of petrol and diesel reaches up to 261% above the cost price, electric vehicles carry just a 10% tax on the purchase price.  Electric cars are exempt from road tax, which can be Rs30-50,000 per year for fossil-fuel cars. Nepal is the only country in the world with such a huge relative tax difference.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/from-a-fossil-past-to-an-electric-future/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">From a fossil past to an electric future</a>, Om Astha Rai<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/cleaner-air-with-greener-buses/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Cleaner air with greener buses</a>, Bhushan Tuladhar<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108111156/636a369f9c7e80680e04831bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>However, there are still challenges to overcome before electric vehicles gain greater public acceptance, including the lack of charging stations, undependable electricity supply, and inadequate parking lots. A fast-charge electric station costs a minimum of $30,000 and can charge only 25 vehicles a day. Establishing one requires a government subsidy as well as a regulator to permit the charging of different EV models.Kathmandu Valley alone has <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/poisoning-the-air-we-breathe/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">750,000 motorcycles</a>, which are a major source of toxic gases like carbon monoxide and ozone. Introducing tax incentives for bikes and scooters similar to those for private cars could be a pivotal move. Also, at the moment there is no registration policy on electric two-wheelers, discouraging buyers.In October last year, Prime Minister KP Oli unveiled an <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/20-electric-by-2020/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">electric mobility action plan</a>, proposed to transform at least 20% of the fleet of public vehicles into battery-operated ones by 2020. Amidst much fanfare he inaugurated the first five Chinese, BYD electric buses inducted by Sajha Yatayat. President Bidya Devi Bhandari herself has a BYD electric limousine.Last year, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/mayoral-airs/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Kathmandu Valley’s 18 mayors gathered for a workshop</a> organised by ICIMOD to discuss an air pollution reduction strategy. Since then, beyond lip service little has been done to establish electric public transport and make emission tests for fossil vehicles more effective.Local and provincial governments have shown an interest in providing financial support to develop electric public transport, but the plans are sketchy and ad hoc. A case in point is the confusing and conflicting proposals for electric bus rapid transit, monorail and light rail transit along the Ring Road. The proposals are restricted to speeches and slogans, but nothing concrete has been done.One reason is the high investment cost of electric public transport, which requires government to step in with subsidies.Over the years, revenue from the Petroleum Tax has grown to a whopping Rs5.2 billion. Some of this could be invested in a clean-energy electric transportation strategy.The Seoul-based Global Green Growth Institute (<a href="http://gggi.org/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">GGGI</a>) has been helping the central government with just such a strategy on electric mobility, and to find potential investors. General Director Frank Rijsberman was in Kathmandu last week to sign an agreement to implement e-mobility in Nepal. GGGI is keen to help Nepal with its first purchase of 300 electric buses for cities across Nepal.  (See interview below)“Operating an electric transport fleet is more complex, requires higher initial investment and more infrastructure than traditional buses, but in the longer-term, renewable energy sources are not only ecologically but also economically viable,” said Rijsberman. “We believe that it is not only the right thing to do but also the best way of growing in the 21st century. In the coming years we hope to see a breakthrough and electric buses on the streets of Kathmandu.”Electric vehicles are now a necessity, not just an environmental statement. Neighbouring India and China have committed to manufacturing only electric automobiles by the year 2030. This means Nepal will be forced to go electric since most vehicle imports are from those two countries.Said Bhushan Tuladhar of Sajha Yatayat: “Like it or not, Nepal will have to go all electric in about a decade. So we may as well start planning for it. That way, the transition will be much smoother, efficient and advantageous.”<h2>Investing in renewables</h2><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108111156/636a36a29c7e80680e04831cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="799"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Frank Rijsberman of the Korea-based <a href="http://gggi.org/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Global Green Growth Institute</a> was recently in town to sign an agreement with the government and Sajha Yatayat on electric mobility. Nepali Times asked him about the future of electric public transport globally and in Nepal.Nepali Times: Why is your Global Green Growth Institute so involved in electric mobility around the world?Frank Rijsberman: We are a young intergovernmental organisation set up in 2012 with 32 member countries and 20 more in the process of becoming members, like Nepal. We help governments plan green growth, a model of economic development that is both more environmentally sustainable and socially inclusive. In Nepal, we helped the government develop a national electric mobility strategy, and we have also helped members mobilise $1 billion in climate finance.We are also working to make cities greener by managing water, sanitation and solid waste. I met with Nepal’s minister of forests and environment and he asked us if we could start working on forests as our next priority. We have done similar work in Indonesia and Myanmar, and that is likely to be our next priority here.Do you see Asian countries moving towards renewable energy?It is challenging to switch from big investments in coal and nuclear energy, because all those investments have become stranded assets. China and India are making enormous progress in renewable energy. Many other Asian countries are a bit behind — Vietnam is still planning to build 25 new coal fire power plants. We are working with governments to introduce large-scale renewable energy sources. The private sector will invest only if the government has the right policy, so we work with governments for that.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/from-playing-victim-to-proactive-leadership-on-climate/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">From playing victim to proactive leadership on climate</a>How can Nepal mitigate on carbon, while adapting to climate change?Adaptation is still very much the number one priority for Nepal but it must grow to middle-income status by 2030, without increasing emissions, by investing in renewable energy. This is now the cheapest form of energy and decentralised solar energy is a much easier way to reach remote communities that were very poorly served by a centralised grid.So I would call it adaptation with mitigation co-benefits. It may well be possible to trade those emissions with countries that should reduce more but cannot on their own. You can have mitigation measures too, but the first priority for countries like Nepal that rely on agriculture is to make sure that society is no longer vulnerable and is more resilient to climate change.Also, many governments still want growth. But the quality of growth really matters; it should be environmentally sustainable. It used to be the right thing to do, but being sustainable is also commercially attractive.What progress are other Asian countries making to become low-carbon economies?China has become a real leader in electric transport. Shenzhen is the first city in the world with an all-electric fleet of buses. Beijing has also taken big steps in curbing air pollution. India has also made considerable progress in renewable energy. The next big thing will be energy efficiency in buildings.What are the prospects for electric public transport in Nepal?We have done electric bus projects in a number of countries and while it is more expensive initially, and also for infrastructure like charging stations and batteries, its operational cost is much cheaper. We are helping the Nepal Government find interested investors, and hope to see a breakthrough in coming years with electric buses on the streets of Kathmandu.

Sonia Awale

Nepal’s electric transport future is here

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108111152/636a34e59c7e80680e04827fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"/><figcaption>Photo: BIKRAM RAI</figcaption></figure>It was an ironic coincidence that the week Nepal hosted its <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-has-to-curb-corruption-before-wooing-investors/">Investment Summit</a>, the country signed an MoU with Japan for the export of Nepali skilled workers. Also last week we saw photographs of thousands of young Nepali men sleeping out in the open as they waited in line for Korean language tests which they need to pass to work in Korea. Nepal’s long-awaited G2G deal with Malaysia that will <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/kleptocrats-of-kathmandu-and-kualalampur/">remove labour middlemen</a> will soon come into effect.As Nepal woos investors to create employment at home, overseas countries are vying for our cheap labour. This trend will only increase as East Asian countries age, and as traditional labour-exporting countries like the Philippines and our South Asian neighbours attain higher standards of living.If all the new energy, infrastructure and tourism FDI projects committed at the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/invest-in-investment/">Nepal Investment Summit</a> actually come through, we are surely going to need the workforce here at home.Officials at the Summit vowed that no Nepali youth will now have to seek jobs abroad. That is hyperbole. It is also duplicitous. A government that is promising huge employment opportunities at home is signing deals with <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/nepalis-from-chitwan-to-chidoya,4110">Japan</a>, <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Korean-kafala-migrants-in-Korea,4025">Korea</a>, Malaysia and Qatar to export our youth.This is likely to go one for some time as Nepal is already <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/Nepal-economy-supported-by-remittance-money,2874" target="_blank" rel="noopener">addicted to remittance revenue</a> to sustain the economy, pay for imports of everything from to vegetable to fruits. For now, about the only arena where remittance inflows have shown an impact is in driving up land prices in Kathmandu and urban centres.If we want to see Nepal ‘developed’ in our lifetimes, we shall have to aggressively go out into the world and recruit. Many hotels, international non-profits, foreign-aided projects and bilateral and multilateral agencies already have foreigners as heads. To push this line of argument further, if Nepalis can serve in the British and Indian armies and the Singapore Commandos, why not a Japanese or Korean heading an irrigation or hydropower project in Nepal?We can already offers jobs to the Japanese and Koreans in Nepal. Proof of whether the Investment Summit was really successful to generate $30 billion will be if Nepal finally turns into a country that offers employment to Koreans and Japanese. Workers from India and China already have jobs in Nepal, and in fact Nepal is the country that is the sixth largest source of remittances for India.Given that the summit is organised every two years and every day of the past two years at least 1,500 <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/doubts-on-zero-cost-migration-deal-coming-into-force,2157" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepalis left for work overseas</a>, we need to start thinking of reversing the flow. No more is it time for afno manche or hamro party ko manche, Nepal now needs ramro manche from all over the world.When Nepal Airlines presses its new Airbus 330 flights to Incheon and Kansai the seats should be booked both ways. Investment is also about technology transfer, and induction of skilled human resources -- Nepal needs trained and experienced human capital that helped build the modern Japanese and Korean economies.This would be a perfect match, and one that Nepal can take full advantage of. They benefit from the energy of the young Nepali, and we profit from their experience. Further, Nepal always seems to have money to hire more police and administrative staff but not the technical and managerial people who can build this country. Buying cars for the government and politicians is done in an instant, while we hem and haw about procuring the services of qualified managers and technicians.Like many other countries, Nepal has embraced the idea of the free flow of goods and services. We have benefitted from the one-way free flow of human capital as well, now we need to reciprocate and relax our work visas. The real advantage of hiring globally will also be to get inside knowledge about how to do business in those countries. We would know, for example, what to grow, how to process and export value-added agricultural products from the Himalaya to Japan or Korea.At social gatherings and in private communications, Nepalis who are likely to oppose the idea of reciprocity will tell you proudly how their children are now earning lots of money working abroad. Why should we deny this opportunity to those who are in the host countries? We need them now. We may not have this need in the future. Let us all watch carefully who gets hired to head FDI projects. We can go for Nepali afno manche first, but then let us do a global search.Anil Chitrakar is President of Siddharthinc

Coming soon: two-way migration to Nepal

One smoggy winter morning in February 2019, Ekta regretted coming to her sculpture class. It was the first day of her period, and the 19-year-old wished she was home, curled up in bed with a hot water bag to soothe her cramps.
Her class was at Kalapremi Ceramic Studio, a dark room on the ground floor of a house in Maharajganj, and Ekta’s teacher was the artist Gopal Das Shrestha ‘Kalapremi’, a noted sculptor.
Two other students were already there, using all their muscle strength to knead the sculpting clay. Ekta, now 24, recalls how Kalapremi asked her if she was feeling all right. She avoided him, as she did not want everyone to know she was menstruating.
Kalapremi repeatedly asked Ekta what was wrong. She finally muttered that she was having her period, after which he grabbed her hand and led her to a partitioned corner of the studio and sat her on a chair. Before she could stop him, he slid his hand under her dress, and started massaging her abdomen.
“I was horrified,” Ekta recalls. “I told him to stop, but he didn’t listen, asking me not to be shy, saying he knew how to relieve my pain. He stopped only after I protested furiously.”&nbsp;
The art tutor then said, “You’re like my daughter. I’m doing it out of love to make you feel better, but you’re so stubborn.”&nbsp;
“Instead of saying sorry he acted like I was the one having crazy thoughts,” remembers Ekta, adding that from April 2016 to August 2020 beginning the time she was 16, the artist sexually abused and harassed her on several occasions. &nbsp;
Now, Ekta and the artist’s other former students are finally sharing their experiences and some are pressing legal charges against him, hoping that others do not have to endure what they did.&nbsp;
Award-winning artist and teacher Gopal Das Shrestha ‘Kalapremi’ (the name means ‘Art Lover’) is known for his ceramic art, sculpture, and contemporary pottery. He was <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/the-house-of-kalapremi">profiled in Nepali Times after a collaborative exhibition</a>, ‘Where the Wild Things Are’ at the Siddhartha Art Gallery three years ago.&nbsp;
His pieces, titled Gaalis, featured sculpted female figures with the heads of dogs, sheep, and donkeys (pictured) to depict derogatory terms for women. Some critics said the collection was a satire on feminists.
Kalapremi started his artistic and teaching career in 1983 and over the years taught at Bhanubhakta School, Kathmandu University School of Arts, Lalitkala Campus and at his private Kalapremi Ceramic Studio. He has also lectured at Jeonju University in South Korea and recently at Tabor Academy in the United States.
Seven of Kalapremi’s former students were interviewed for this story. Five female students said he touched them inappropriately in his studio or at Kathmandu University. Two male students said they witnessed him abuse and harass the women. In all cases, the students struggled to recognise the abuse when it occurred, and the lack of reporting systems left them to cope on their own for years.&nbsp;
Earlier this year, students shared a social media post hinting at Kalapremi’s history of abusive behaviour following which more students of the artist reached out sharing similar experiences. Some students spoke of abuse that happened as long as 20 years ago.
Kalapremi, 60, has denied the allegations. He told Nepali Times: “Some years ago, there was a movement encouraging people to hug and kiss. I used to do it purely out of friendship and love. But after seeing posts on social media last year calling out my behaviour, I realised my actions may have hurt some people. I understand now that I should have been more mindful.”
He added: “I am also an auxiliary health worker, so I know the exact points to massage to relieve menstrual pain. It’s not just menstruation, I take anyone who is ill to the hospital.”
Sexual abuse is much more rampant than reported given how difficult it is to prove it in court. The law defines sexual abuse as occuring when someone touches another’s private parts, coerces them into touching theirs, uses vulgar language, shows degrading images, or behaves indecently towards them without consent.&nbsp;
Ekta and her fellow students are consulting lawyer Suneeta Regmi Pokhrel, who says they know that even if the court decides in their favour, it is difficult to survive after speaking up, and influential men defend themselves saying they are being framed.&nbsp;
“They are in a lot of pain and weep when recalling how he abused them,” Regmi Pokhrel told us. “They are angry and have filed a case against him, but they are also terrified. They know he is a powerful man and they have seen how our society treats women who speak up against abusers. Unless people speak up, perpetrators will be emboldened.”
Art and academia in Nepal simply reflect the power imbalances in society where people with intersecting identities experience worse forms of abuse. Theatre actors Raj Kumar Pudasaini, Rajan Khatiwada, and Sunil Pokhrel were called out during the #MeToo movement in the Nepali theatre scene in 2019. Even after the allegations Pokhrel went on to receive national awards, while others continued to work without repercussions.
“If you speak up against abusers, you gradually get sidelined from projects,” explained a theatre artist who wished anonymity fearing professional setbacks. “The theatre scene in Nepal is quite small, you just have to make peace with the perpetrators and work with them if you want to sustain yourself.”&nbsp;
In academia there is a history of faculty members sexually harassing students and getting away with it. After Tribhuvan University (TU) lecturer Krishna Bhattachan was accused of harassing women students, the university said it would follow Nepal’s sexual harassment law and set up a reporting mechanism. But nothing happened to the professor, who had already retired. Instead, he counter-accused the students of 'attacking the indigenous people’s movement with baseless allegations' as <a href="https://kathmandupost.com/letters/2019/01/29/bhattachan-responds">he told the Kathmandu Post in 2019</a>. He continues to be featured as a prominent speaker including at TU.
Other faculty members previously accused of sexual harassment include Jagadish Murti Koirala from TU, Bishnu Prasad Acharya from Ratna Rajya Campus, and Bodha Raj Tripathee from Lalitpur Madhyamik Vidhyalaya. A woman staff member from TU also filed a sexual abuse complaint against Dambar Chemjong from TU.
Prominent figures like <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-rise-and-fall-of-nims-purja">mountaineer Nims Purja</a> have been <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2024/05/31/sports/mountaineering-sexual-harassment-abuse-nims-purja.html">accused of sexual assault</a>, and cricketer Sandeep Lamichhane, actor <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/celebrity-rape-case-spotlights-nepal-laws">Paul Shah</a>, and former speaker of Parliament <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/mahara-arrested">Krishna Bahadur Mahara</a> have been accused of rape, but society-at-large has let off the alleged perpetrators amdist a larger debate about justice for survivors and punishment of perpetrators.&nbsp;
‘Gaushala-26’ is the court name given to the 18-year-old who accused Sandeep Lamichhane, former captain of Nepal’s national cricket team and skipper of Biratnagar Kings in the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/here-comes-the-nepal-premier-league">ongoing Nepal Premier League</a>, of rape. She left the country citing society questioning her character affecting her mental health while Lamichhane got an outpouring of support. In May, the Patan High Court overturned a prior verdict that found Lamichhane guilty of rape and had sentenced him to eight years in prison. During the 23-month legal battle to pursue justice, Gaushala-26 faced threats of gang rape and acid attacks.&nbsp;
Exhausted by the struggle, Gaushala-26 sought to “move to a new world” where she could live free without hiding her identity.
Actress Samragyee Rajya Laxmi Shah in an Instagram video now deleted detailed the harassment she faced from a filmmaker during a movie shoot. She did not name any name but veteran actor Bhuwan KC filed a defamation case against Rana, but the court ruled that the charge lacked sufficient evidence.&nbsp;
Former Kathmandu mayor <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/theytoo">Keshav Sthapit also mocked the #MeToo movement</a>, calling accusations against him by journalists Rashmila Prajapati and Ujjwala Maharjan “a rape of men’s rights”.
Serial Abuse
Back at the Kalapremi Ceramics studio, another former student, 24-year-old Rajiv, says he felt the need to speak out after seeing his female classmates being abused.&nbsp;
“He frequently kissed them on their cheeks,” he told Nepali Times. “Whenever they walked into the studio he flailed his arms like a child asking for a hug. They awkwardly hugged him from the side, but he pulled them closer, held their chin, and kissed their cheeks.”&nbsp;
Rajiv says he also saw Kalapremi pull the women’s bra straps, touch their breasts, and slap their buttocks. The young students would freeze, not knowing how to react, and if they protested, he would say it was “normal in art”. Rajiv, 19 at the time like his classmates, remembers thinking perhaps the well-respected artist was right after all.
Another student, Luna, who took lessons at Kalapremi’s studio from 2020 to 2022 did try to confront the tutor after he made an obscene proposal to her. She recalls: “One day when the other students had left the studio and it was just the two of us, he told me that God had given him special artistic talent and he could transfer those powers to me. But to do that both of us will have to be naked, inside a dark room, and have sex.”
Luna, who was 18 then, was livid and told him she did not want any of his powers, but she says he laughed at her as if he was joking. She did not tell her family about the incident because she thought no one would believe her.&nbsp;
“They were all in awe of this famous artist and felt I should be grateful that to be learning sculpting from him,” she says. “I was scared to be alone with him in case he talked about sex again. My coping mechanism was to be rude so he wouldn’t try to come close to me.”
Seeing how some classmates were standing up to Kalapremi, Ekta too tried to push back against his advances, but she said he found ways to coerce her. Since Ekta, Rajiv, and Luna could not afford Kalapremi’s Rs30,000 monthly fee for lessons, he had offered them all a stipend to assist him in the studio.
“He had spondylosis and took me to his therapy sessions to learn massage techniques, then he often made me and other students massage him,” says Ekta. Whenever she refused, he would feign pain to make her feel sorry for him. “He would insist that I put my hands under his shirt so that I could massage him better,” she adds.
The art tutor often tried to “seduce sympathy” from Ekta by sharing how he had never been loved as a child and was “sexually frustrated” as an adult.&nbsp;
“At 7PM, he would pour himself Signature whiskey and immediately go off again about how he was sex-starved. I didn’t know how to respond. It took me time to realise alcohol was just an excuse to talk about sex,” Ekta says.
If convicted, Kalapremi could face financial penalty and/or a prison sentence of up to three years according to Section 224 of National Penal (Code) Act 2017.&nbsp;
Data suggests that victims of child sexual abuse on average take nearly 24 years to tell someone about their trauma, and some may never disclose it at all.&nbsp;
“In our culture, children are rarely taught about boundaries. They often react, show anger when adults pinch their cheeks. But adults insist they did it out of love, and force the children to accept it,” says Sita Lama, a psychotherapist at Manka Kura. “And even when someone touches them inappropriately they struggle to identify and verbalise it.”
When perpetrators claim to be “acting out of love”, Lama says survivors are likely to perceive it as something safe, rather than recognising it as abuse.&nbsp;
“It may take years for them to realise they were abused,” she explains. "And even when they become aware, the power imbalance with the abuser and the associated shame often prevents survivors from speaking up."
Other former students from the School of Art at Kathmandu University have also come forward years later, saying Kalapremi sexually abused them. As young adults, they felt his behaviour was off but were uncertain if it was inappropriate, illegal, or they did not know how to respond. After having understood that it was indeed abuse, they say they are speaking out now to protect others.&nbsp;
Amina Singh, a visiting faculty member at Kathmandu University, says there is no clause against sexual abuse in contracts of teachers, and there is no formal grievance handling mechanism for the students.&nbsp;
“So the only way students can to deal with sexual abuse is approach someone they trust,” she says.
Eight other former art students of Lalit Kala Campus and Srijana College of Fine Arts of Tribhuvan University and other private art studios in Kathmandu say they were also sexually abused by their art teachers. Three faculty members interviewed from these institutions said they saw the abuse, but felt it was futile to report it given how powerful the teachers were.
In the absence of a formal system, some longtime women artists warned each other about “problematic” artists. They shared &nbsp;a “heads-up” to be more cautious when collaborating with them, and avoided responding to their calls and texts after work hours.
To ensure art institutions are safe for all, galleries, museums, artist studios, and smaller art spaces need to develop policies on sexual harassment. This would include a code of conduct or studio policies that hold the leadership accountable and outline the principles of professional ethics.&nbsp;
Students and employees should inquire about accountability mechanisms for raising concerns, both formally and informally, advocates say.
Three years after Ekta left the ceramics studio, she learnt that Kalapremi had harassed many other women. Still trying to get a footing in the art industry, she attended a workshop in Kathmandu where women artists discussed ways to stay safe in the art sector.&nbsp;
Since it was a close-knit group Ekta opened up about how she felt violated and realised she was not alone, he had been abusing underprivileged students for years, and this was common knowledge among artists in Nepal.
Ekta says that even after she quit, Kalapremi continued sending her text messages like ‘I am thinking of you’, ‘Why have you stopped speaking with me’, or ‘I am waiting for your call’.&nbsp;
But what really forced her to act was when Ekta found out that he was sending similar texts to her younger sister.&nbsp;
“I’ve had enough,” she told us. “He abused me all these years but I won’t let him abuse my sister.” &nbsp;
Ekta, Rajiv and Luna are not the real names of the students.&nbsp;

‘Art Lover’ accused of sexual abuse

It was 8:15 in the evening of 25 March 1968 when everyone in the village of Batulechaur near Pokhara heard a deafening sound like thunder as a bright flashing object hurtled down to land in a field.&nbsp; That field belonged to Kul Timilsina, and the next morning he retrieved a sheet of metal about 2m by 1m and carried it home with the help of a few others, thinking it would be useful for his buffalo shed.&nbsp; Before he died at age 83 three years ago, Timilsina had told photo archivist Sunil Ulak that the black metal sheet was not rectangular and had rounded corners. There are a few witnesses still alive who have a clear recollection of the object that fell from the sky that night.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024120707128_75cc85aac56b9cc4a77366471f058d7b3eb6868776811b0923845c2d0a61f014.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2024120707128_75cc85aac56b9cc4a77366471f058d7b3eb6868776811b0923845c2d0a61f014" data-rendition-name="original" width="1170" height="601" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> <figcaption>The field in Batulechaur belonging to Kul Timilsina where fragments of a flying object fell from the sky in 1968.</figcaption> </figure>  One of them is Timilsina’s wife Gyanu, who was 22 at the time. She had been at home, and remembers hearing the big bang and the sky becoming very bright. “We saw the thing in the field in the morning,” she told us. “It looked like a lid, a covering of some sort. The way it was stuck in the ground, it must have fallen from the sky. We thought we could use it to dry clothes on, and took it home.”&nbsp; Another witness is Kul Narayan Paudel. “I was only eight then. We ran to the field to see what had fallen. It was a four-sided metal sheet. The elders took it away, and I don't know what happened to it.” &nbsp; Ram Bahadur Baniya, a teacher at the local school, says he had heard the sheet had been brought to the school, and later handed over to the Zonal Commissioner at the time, Nanda Prasad Malla. “But that is all hearsay,” he says.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024120707128_0bf207a12063fb8155b3c8d9a00a94887b126380c9e0627527c84cf5e1101f54.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024120707128_0bf207a12063fb8155b3c8d9a00a94887b126380c9e0627527c84cf5e1101f54" data-rendition-name="original" width="1170" height="610" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> <figcaption>Gyanu Timilsina, wife of Kul Timilsina.</figcaption> </figure>  There are two versions of what happened to Kul Timilsina’s metal sheet. One is that an American Peace Corp Volunteer teaching at the nearby Bindyabasini School took it, and another is that it was handed over to the government. Recently declassified Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) and US State Department documents from the time say that the US Embassy in Kathmandu tracked down the object two years later and had it shipped back to the US. A telegram from the Department of State and Department of Defense tagged as ‘MOON DUST / Space Fragments’ dated 1 March 1972 stated: ‘1. Restored space fragment will be on board Embassy support flight 115 arriving Kathmandu on or about March 10. Fragment is packed in shipping crate (cargo no. 72-33365) marked in care of DAO.&nbsp; 2. State and Defense representatives examined fragments prior to shipment finding restoration acceptable.’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071212_929d903ee06d41baa4f6040e981cd7c7d7bd75cc9c37c9b617d307fc8538d2df.png" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20241207071212_929d903ee06d41baa4f6040e981cd7c7d7bd75cc9c37c9b617d307fc8538d2df" data-rendition-name="original" width="856" height="568" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> <figcaption>Declassified CIA documents about the investigation into the object sighted in Pokhara. </figcaption> </figure>  The documents show that the US government, military and intelligence agencies investigated this incident thoroughly when it occurred, and have continued to revisit it ever since, as recently as five years ago. What is even more intriguing is that the object that fell in Pokhara was not the only unidentified space object that fell to earth that year. There were similar sightings of objects falling from the sky in Ladakh, Sikkim and Bhutan between 19 February and 25 March 1968.&nbsp; These mysteries were the subject of a CIA investigation in 1968 titled ‘<a href="https://www.cia.gov/readingroom/docs/CIA-RDP81R00560R000100070007-8.pdf">Sighting of Unidentified Flying Objects in Ladakh, Nepal, Sikkim and Bhutan</a>’, and the report is part of the recent online declassification of 800,000 top-secret documents from the period.&nbsp; &nbsp;Although unidentified flying objects (UFOs) have a connotation now of being alien craft, it could be pieces of satellite, missile, rocket or even aircraft. The CIA report documents six sightings in 1968 and quotes local sources as describing all of them having similar characteristics: bright blue or red streaks in the sky accompanied by loud sounds like lightning and thunder and objects falling to the ground. Aside from the metallic object that was found in Batlechaur, there were other items also found nearby in Tallakot, Tureypasal, Armalakot and Maidan. Whatever the object was, it seems to have disintegrated even before it hit the ground.&nbsp; The CIA report records the first sighting on 19 February 1968 in various parts of Sikkim and Olangchung Gola and Ghunsa in eastern Nepal. The light was said to be ‘long and thin’ and giving out ‘green and red light’. &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071212_c3c825027d966a2aedc846970390eebe063957503c7eacc8e01e0517843f9bbb.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20241207071212_c3c825027d966a2aedc846970390eebe063957503c7eacc8e01e0517843f9bbb" data-rendition-name="original" width="892" height="596" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara "> </figure>  Two days later on 21 February, a soundless blue object was seen traveling fast across the sky above Thimphu in Bhutan. Then on 4 March there were multiple daytime sightings or white streaks in the sky at Chang La Pass, Fukche and Koyul in Ladakh. There were more sightings in Ladakh on the very day fragments fell near Pokhara on 25 March 1968.&nbsp; After the sightings in Pokhara, rumours started flying in Kathmandu that these were aliens trying to land on Earth, it could be Russian or Chinese spy planes or satellites, and some even say it as a sign from heaven that the end of the world was near. This was at the height of the Cold War. The Russians and Americans were testing their thermonuclear devices as well as intercontinental ballistic missile delivery systems. The Washington-Beijing rapprochement had not yet happened, and China was making quick progress testing atomic bombs. Within two years after its first atomic test, in 1966 China exploded its first hydrogen bomb at the Lop Nur site in Xinjiang, 3,000km to the north from Nepal. After neary six decades, what is still intriguing is that all the sightings within a few months of each other in 1968 were along the Himalayan arc bordering Tibet: from Bhutan, Sikkim Nepal, to Ladakh. The US military intelligence seems to have concluded that this was not a coincidence and there were frequent research trips to the site in Pokhara by American officials in the months after the incident. With the help of the Royal Nepal Army, the region north of Pokhara was thoroughly searched.&nbsp; A confidential memo dated 25 June 1968 by Jerry C Trippy to a ‘Mr Farley’ mentions that the US Air Force’s Foreign Technology Division had decided that the debris could be important because it may be related to a Chinese missile test or a Soviet ‘Vehicle Venik’ rocket.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071216_feb5425692dc36b20187de4e4fcc2ce9fd12b6d9e1b8724398e50bcdbf9032fe.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20241207071216_feb5425692dc36b20187de4e4fcc2ce9fd12b6d9e1b8724398e50bcdbf9032fe" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> </figure>  On 28 August 1968 the US Embassy in Kathmandu sent a letter to Washington DC saying that the object could be of Soviet origin, possibly from when the rocket carrying the ‘Kosmos 208’ satellite re-entered the atmosphere. But why were the fragments falling to earth several weeks apart, and in the same region? No one knows where the metal sheet that Kul Timilsina recovered is now. It was definitely packed in a crate and taken to the US, and although it is rumoured that it was returned that is not very likely. Archivist Sunil Ulak heard from the Timilsina family that CIA officials had returned to the site five years ago. &nbsp; Interest in UFOs peaked in the US in the 1950s, with the Cold War space race and tests of atomic weapons and delivery rockets. CIA and scientists were being sent to investigate sightings, both publicly and privately. Could the Pokhara fragments as well as the sightings in Ladakh and Bhutan actually be alien craft falling to earth? The renewal in interest in space travel in large part due to Elon Musk’s SpaceX, UFOs and sightings are again subjects of public interest.&nbsp; Even 57 years later, even if there was definitive proof about whether the Batlechaur fragment was from a Chinese missile or a soviet rocket, it has not been made public in documents declassified so far. We may never know.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071216_b6938795f40731e7657fd6dcbb3cf460a326186a15eb11d4f832f602201ff598.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20241207071216_b6938795f40731e7657fd6dcbb3cf460a326186a15eb11d4f832f602201ff598" data-rendition-name="original" width="642" height="320" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> </figure>  Sunil Ulak speculates if the debris actually came from an American aircraft, perhaps on an intel mission upon China. “Which could explain why they were so thorough in collecting the fragments in Pokhara,” he says. But that still does not explain the multiple sightings weeks apart in 1968.&nbsp; Indeed, US military aircraft were at that time flying frequent night-time missions from air force bases in India to supply weapons to Khampa guerrilla camps in Nepal located north of Pokhara in Mustang. It could very well be that the Chinese shot down one such aircraft. The other sightings could have been contrails of US spy planes, or Chinese anti-aircraft missiles.&nbsp; There were quite a few developments regarding UFOs in 2024. In a US congressional hearing in July, former intelligence officer David Grusch claimed that the government had long been involved in a program to investigate and retrieve non-human craft crashes, and then try to reverse engineer them. However Grusch did not show any evidence.&nbsp; The UAP Disclosure Act of 2024 was signed into law by Joe Biden in December 2023. It plans to oversee the public disclosure of UFO information. However, there is a clause in it that prevents disclosure if it would cause threats to military defense, intelligence operations or foreign relations.&nbsp; It is unlikely that the declassified documents about sightings in the Himalayan will cause any real surprise about definite evidence of alien life even if it was found. It seems humanity will continue, at least for now, to wonder about curious lights in the sky and whether there is anybody out there.&nbsp;

UFO over Pokhara

Four international names in architecture, Shigeru Ban, Rem Koolhaas, Tadao Ando and Louis Isadore Kahn, all left their mark in Nepal. But despite their best intentions, the ambitious designs fizzled out. Ban, Koolhaas and Ando won Pritzkers, the best known international award for architecture, and Kahn could have won it had the prize been given in his lifetime. But their designs fell short of transforming Nepali architecture and did not help inspire local architects.&nbsp; Why were these four ‘starchitects’ unable to pull off their Nepal projects and enrich the country with exemplary contemporary designs? The failure, especially the violation of Kahn’s design, also raises larger questions about how much contemporary architecture is valued in Nepal.&nbsp; Whereas Sri Lanka had Geoffrey Bawa and Bangladesh had Mazharul Islam, the pioneers of contemporary architecture in Nepal have had far less public appreciation. One wonders if Nepali architecture only refers to the monuments and heritage of the past. Nepal does have examples of outstanding modern architecture such as the &nbsp;पाङ्रे घर ‘Wheel House’ and खुट्टे घर &nbsp;‘House on Legs’ by Shankar Nath Rimal in the 1960s. These are the best examples of how some Nepali designers successfully tailored modern architecture to the Nepali context.&nbsp; Ten years ago, Nepal had three architecture magazines, SPACES, praXis and Business Architecture, but none of these survived. This newspaper has prominently covered contemporary architecture, and the built environment, but these are exceptions in Nepal’s media. There have been a few encouraging signs. The 2024 exhibition Modern Encounters in Architecture in Kathmandu Valley (1945-1985) at the Taragaon Museum had many visitors and its accompanying book is a seminal document.&nbsp; In 2023, the Mountain Architecture Dialogue (MAD) that focused on examples of good-practice sustainable contemporary architecture for the mountainous terrains of Nepal was a packed event with over 300 young architects, engineers, environmentalists and architecture students. <h2>Shigeru Ban</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024122003128_8bb8dde080c5698c2585966bef27ce4c08e4ee488d3432b2caac98b9de762dfe.png" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2024122003128_8bb8dde080c5698c2585966bef27ce4c08e4ee488d3432b2caac98b9de762dfe" data-rendition-name="original" width="990" height="1074" loading="lazy" alt="Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal NT"> </figure>  Shigeru Ban had already built a name for himself in post-disaster construction when he came to Nepal following the 2015 earthquakes in which 500,000 people lost their homes. The basic design and its 3D-rendered images were reviewed in upbeat articles on DOMUS, Architectural Review, Dezeen, and Arch Daily.&nbsp; But his signature cardboard tubes could not handle the monsoon and the roof structure had to be re-designed with timber. Only two shelters were completed in Sindupalchok, and only one of them still stands at the Hyatt Regency grounds today, as Ban’s souvenir to Nepal.&nbsp; <h2>Rem Koolhaas</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024122003128_58afec9b57accfa38327af0936648c6eb2f2e11ff18f1af8ca27383dc57dc222.png" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024122003128_58afec9b57accfa38327af0936648c6eb2f2e11ff18f1af8ca27383dc57dc222" data-rendition-name="original" width="750" height="722" loading="lazy" alt="Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal NT"> </figure>  The designs of Dutch architect Rem Koolhaas have a specific signature: bold shapes and an intriguing architectural typology that challenges standard building blocks. Some designs even seem to defy gravity, like the CCTV headquarters in Beijing: an angular, continuous geometry of glass and steel.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241220031216_a18dc8a8d6b97bc6fa9d590036cf374f9dc3709c699fe5c5787304bbd05cb17d.png" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20241220031216_a18dc8a8d6b97bc6fa9d590036cf374f9dc3709c699fe5c5787304bbd05cb17d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1812" height="1168" loading="lazy" alt="Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal"> <figcaption>Rem Koolhaas' design for Ullen's School in Khumaltar.</figcaption> </figure>  Koolhaas was commissioned by Belgian billionaire Guy Ullens to design a new building for Ullens School in Khumaltar. The most prominent feature is its vertical glass block staircase. Some interior spaces have lowered windowsills, which provide ample views and daylight. But the school building has gone unremarked in Nepal. <h2>Tadao Ando</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241220031212_cc16bd6feb8be07a7198285b847a45d2126dc3a479e0cc7370331861fc544675.png" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20241220031212_cc16bd6feb8be07a7198285b847a45d2126dc3a479e0cc7370331861fc544675" data-rendition-name="original" width="626" height="628" loading="lazy" alt="Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal"> </figure>  Doctors providing aid to victims of the Great Hanshin earthquake in 1995 in Japan requested Tadao Ando, who had donated his Pritzker money to the victims, to also make a design for a hospital in Butwal.&nbsp; Ando’s contribution would be pro-bono and the construction was funded by the Hanshin Earthquake victims and by the popular Japanese newspaper Mainichi, as a tribute to Nepali doctors. The first block that Ando designed for the Siddhartha Children and Women’s Hospital (SCWH) was the out-patient department. He quickly realised that he would not be able to pull off structures with his typical style of smooth-finished, high-quality concrete.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241220031216_73ec0950d52320277ccc81d4a66fa6aa6acb38141e7b7633683e4cf8179dc579.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20241220031216_73ec0950d52320277ccc81d4a66fa6aa6acb38141e7b7633683e4cf8179dc579" data-rendition-name="original" width="1594" height="958" loading="lazy" alt="Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal"> <figcaption>Tadao Ando's Siddhartha Children and Women Hospital in Butwal.</figcaption> </figure>  Ando wrote in the online architectural catalog Architectuul, that the two main problems with the project were costs and the availability of local technology. ‘It became a facility that has a slightly different expression from the buildings I have completed so far,’ he wrote. He designed a colonnade for the west façade that would provide shelter from harsh sunlight, and the exposed brick walls were locally manufactured bricks.&nbsp; The hospital is characterised by modernist cuboidal massing, but the outer brick façades now appear unintentionally badly weathered by monsoons. The interiors lack both sufficient natural light and natural ventilation. <h2>Louis I Kahn</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024122003128_612e199d62fb3e72b6b8f6a936b0fa0451d8c0aa3d831c071320bf423ee3d67f.png" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2024122003128_612e199d62fb3e72b6b8f6a936b0fa0451d8c0aa3d831c071320bf423ee3d67f" data-rendition-name="original" width="694" height="926" loading="lazy" alt="Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal NT"> </figure>  American architect Louis I Kahn had experience of projects in South Asia, and several were under construction when he died suddenly in 1974. Amongst these were the National Assembly complex in Dhaka, the Indian Institute of Management in Ahmedabad and the Family Planning and Maternal Child Welfare Centre in Kathmandu.&nbsp; Kahn had started the USAID funded project in Nepal by developing a master plan for the government institutional zone in Kathmandu, which included a building for the Health Ministry. The building’s façade in exposed brick has deeply recessed vertical windows for shading.&nbsp; The balancing of accentuated horizontal lines in the brickwork with the verticality of the larger composition is the work of a master. The brick walls rise up into punctured parapet walls at the roof level. These square apertures ‘frame the sky’.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241220031216_69c2e4972dbe38773e0a3a3f1129485c9c87033ee84cd454e24ae0dc772d05cf.png" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20241220031216_69c2e4972dbe38773e0a3a3f1129485c9c87033ee84cd454e24ae0dc772d05cf" data-rendition-name="original" width="1924" height="1242" loading="lazy" alt="Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal"> <figcaption>Louis Kahn's plan for the Ministry of Health.</figcaption> </figure>  When Kahn died, only the eastern half of the building was finished. The Western part was never built and Nepal’s bureaucrats decided that without paint, the exposed brick façade was not finished. Then in 1995, citing roof leakage and a space crunch, the Health Ministry added a floor.&nbsp; The frames-to-the-sky in the roof parapet were converted into windows and topped off with a sloping roof of corrugated steel sheets, whose only virtue was that it was cost-effective.&nbsp; Kahn’s orthogonal composition, which clean horizontal and vertical lines, was desecrated despite a public outcry and legal challenges from architects and cultural organisations. A version of this article was first published in HIMAL Southasian. Illustrations by Varun S Bapu.

Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal

When Rastriya Swatantra Party (RSP) president Rabi Lamichhane was arrested in October on charges of defrauding depositors of cooperatives, the party’s vice president Swarnim Wagle gifted him Fareed Zakaria’s book, Age of Revolutions.
Since then, Lamichhane has been shunted around from Kathmandu to Pokhara to Chitwan and back to Pokhara to attend police investigations and court proceedings. He was being flown to Birganj via Kathmandu on Buddha Air on Monday. There is another pending case in Janakpur.
Human rights groups and civil society have criticised the government for hounding Lamichhane with inhumane treatment that borders on physical torture. The two parties in the coalition, Nepali Congress (NC) and the UML, see Lamichhane’s RSP as a potentially formidable challenge to their power.
Even if the fraud charges against Lamichhane are true, the Nepali public is increasingly looking at the government’s actions through the police and courts as political vendetta.
Despite all the travelling, sometimes by plane and often by road at night, Lamichhane appears to be in high spirits, waving to supporters who often gather if they know he is going to be driven around. A social media video shows him giving high fives to fellow passengers on a recent flight to Pokhara.&nbsp;
In the past weeks, streets in Pokhara have erupted with parallel protests by Lamichhane’s supporters as well as depositors of cooperatives who lost their savings to the scam.&nbsp;
Although family visits are allowed, prison officials in Pokhara told Nepali Times that not many people visit Lamichhane these days. He added, “When he does get visitors, he asks them to bring him books.”
Lamichhane is currently Nepal’s most high-profile public figure in custody, and highlights the stark difference between how influential prisoners are treated compared to ordinary inmates.
There are six prison cells at Kaski District Police Office’s two-story detention centre, three on each floor. And while authorities pack prisoners into already overcrowded cells, Lamichhane has an entire room on the second floor to himself.&nbsp;
He has also been allowed to call his family every few days. Other prisoners are not permitted phone calls except for emergencies.
Meanwhile, Lamichhane’s former business partner Chhabilal Joshi, an ex-Deputy Inspector General of Police with whom he established his Gorkha Media Network, is in custody under the same charges in the prison cell next to him.
Lamichhane is accused of siphoning off depositors' money to the tv network in which he was part-owner and anchor. &nbsp;
Both Lamichhane and Joshi are able to buy food from the police canteen instead of being served the regular meal like other prisoners. Joshi has also given his statement to authorities in Rupandehi and Kathmandu for his alleged role in the scam. Lamichhane is yet to be presented in Kathmandu for questioning.
While he was in custody at the Kathmandu District Police Complex, Joshi expressed his desire to sleep in a police officer’s office, reportedly assuring authorities that he would not run away and he was entitled to certain facilities as a former officer of the law.
“He seemed to be under the impression that he is still a police officer,” says a source at the Kathmandu District Police. “We made it clear to him that as someone accused of a crime, he was not entitled to special treatment.”
Former ministers Balkrishna Khand and Top Bahadur Rayamajhi, and ex-home secretary Tek Narayan Pandey, who were arrested in connection with the fake refugee scam last year, were similarly housed in the offices of law enforcement officials instead of prison cells. Khand has since been released after six months in jail.
While there is no legal provision to keep high-ranking officials in separate detention centres when they are arrested, authorities granting them special facilities is not uncommon. Law enforcement officials say VIP detainees expect preferential treatment while in police custody.
Among those is former Kosi Province minister Lila Ballav Adhikari, who was arrested from Biratnagar on 10 November over his alleged involvement in human trafficking and brought to Kathmandu. Adhikari had flown to Japan without government approval with three individuals on 29 October to attend a cultural conference, but had been sent back to Nepal from Narita.&nbsp;
His three companions were arrested at Kathmandu airport upon their arrival, but Adhikari was able to exit unscathed from the VIP lounge. Adhikari had resigned as the Kosi Province Minister for Internal Affairs and Law when it became public that his companions had been taken into custody, and was himself arrested shortly after. He has since been cleared by the courts.
Throughout his detention, Adhikari was kept separately from other inmates. Senior Superintendent of Police (SSP) Basant Rajouri, head of the Bhadrakali complex, says that while there is no separate detention area for VIPs, some detainees are kept separately depending on the nature of their crime.
However, sources say that arrangements were made for retired judges and others to visit Adhikari frequently worked at the office of a Deputy Superintendent of Police (DSP) during his time in custody.&nbsp;
“He used to constantly pester the authorities to let him sit outside in the sun, and to be able to use the police officer’s shower area,” added an officer.
Adhikari was released on 25 November after the government prosecutor’s office decided not to charge him in a move that was seen to expose the government’s double standards.
Over at Kathmandu’s Dilli Bazar Prison, former Kist Bank CEO Kamal Gyawali emerges from his prison cell into the courtyard of the prison’s ‘Ka (क)’ block every morning with a thick book in his hands, ready to give his daily sermon.
With his long beard, Gyawali, who is serving a prison sentence for banking fraud, looks the part of a religious guru as he implores his rapt listeners to “walk the right path, abandon bad thoughts and turn to scripture and spirituality”.&nbsp;
Afterward, the attendees gather to discuss politics and current affairs. Inmates at his daily sermons at the prison include other high-profile detainees, including former MP Ichchha Raj Tamang, who is in jail for money laundering and cooperatives fraud, former joint secretary Chudamani Sharma, who was convicted of corruption, as well as NC leader Chandra Bahadur Lama and Krishna Bahadur Upreti of the UML both of whom are on trial for embezzling billions of rupees.
Victims of the cooperatives scam that former lawmaker Tamang was involved in have made trips to the prison and requested visits, but he has refused to meet with any of them.
“Tamang often complains that the state has prevented him from returning the money to the victims by locking him up,” says a police officer at the Dili Bazar jail.
“All you hear every day from the VIP prisoners is that they have been framed,” adds the officer. “No one admits that they were involved in misdeeds.”
But while most high-profile prisoners complain about prison conditions, one exception is former provincial lawmaker Deepak Manange, who is serving a sentence at Dilli Bazar Jail for attempted murder.
“He is the happiest prisoner here,” says a warden. “Unlike the others, he doesn’t claim to have been framed, in fact he doesn’t seem to care that he is in prison.”
Manange is detained in the ‘Kha (ख)’ block of the prison complex, which he renovated at his own expense. The block previously housed female prisoners, but Manange used his influence to transfer them elsewhere. He faces no shortage of visitors, who range from political leaders to people from the underworld.
Along with Manange, other well-known prisoners in this block include Nepal Telecom Managing Director Sunil Poudel, and former executive director of the Surakshan Printing Centre Bikal Poudel, who are serving time for corruption.
Former prisoners at Dilli Bazar prison include ex-ministers Khum Bahadur Khadka and Shyam Sundar Gupta, NC leader Ganesh Lama, Maoist MP Balkrishna Dhungel, Nagarik Unmukti Party leader Resham Chaudhary, as well as former IGs Ramesh Chand Thakuri, Om Bikram Rana, and Hem Bahadur Gurung.
Section 54 of Nepal’s Prison Act assigns each prison’s internal administration the
responsibility of governing its prisoners, which means the more favourable the jail management is, the more comfortable it is for prisoners.
Dilli Bazar prison has been the prison of choice for many high-ranking prisoners, especially those convicted of white collar crimes, due to its more accommodating administrators. The prison, which has the capacity to house 700 inmates, is also less crowded than other jails.
Anuj Bhattarai, spokesperson of the Department of Prison Management, says that there is no legal classification in Nepal for felons to be assigned prisons based on the nature of their crimes.
“That Dilli Bazar Jail has a higher number of prisoners convicted of crimes like corruption is most likely a coincidence,” says Bhattarai. “There is no provision for influential people to be able to choose where they will be incarcerated.”&nbsp;
Translated by Shristi Karki from the Nepali original published in himalkhabar.com

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