A growing number of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/searching-for-a-homeland-away-from-home">adult adoptees of Nepali origin have started returning to the land of their birth</a>, and seeking not only emotional reconnection but formal recognition through the Non-resident Nepali (NRN) card or citizenship.&nbsp; But these returnees are too often met not with welcome, but with suspicion, obstruction, and at times, open hostility.&nbsp; After becoming the first adoptee to obtain an NRN card, I recently returned to Nepal to successfully claim <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-citizenship-amendment-bill-explained">NRN-citizenship</a>. That success does not signify a welcoming state structure towards adoptees. On the contrary, it was an odyssey through psychological, legal and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/making-overseas-migration-better">transnational hurdles</a>. In fact, my case is among the more straightforward ones: my birth parents are alive, and my adoption paperwork is complete and legally valid. Yet even in this privileged scenario, officials created several hurdles and used intimidation instead of supporting my <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/now-what">return to Nepal</a>, which would be expected from a public service agency. I was able to counter this with legal knowledge and persistence.&nbsp; But for most adoptees it is not so easy. A systemic overhaul is urgently needed. Thousands of children were involuntarily removed from their country of birth under fabricated or incomplete documentation. Then there is the negligence of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=15215">adoption </a>agencies and government institutions, which often failed to preserve adoption records. Nepal’s citizenship laws are built on assumptions that do not hold for internationally adopted citizens -- they presume patrilineal continuity, uninterrupted documentation, and lifelong presence within the country. But <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-baby-export">intercountry adoption</a> especially interrupts all of these.&nbsp; It severs legal ties with birth parents, replaces surnames, and shifts <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19930">jurisdiction abroad</a>. What remains is often a fragile or incomplete paper trail, if at all. Yet adoptees are still expected to prove family ties that the law itself dissolved, claim a birthplace without official records, and seek recognition while being treated as foreigners. At first glance, it may seem as though we as adult adoptees are asking to be written into a legal framework that was never meant for us. But this perception ignores both <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/12-full-opinion/nepal-s-history-foretold">Nepal’s historical promises</a> and the core of its own <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepals-unequal-citizenship-law">citizenship policy</a>. The country follows jus sanguinis — the right of blood — as its guiding principle, meaning that descent from a Nepali parent should be sufficient to establish eligibility. In theory, this includes adoptees who can prove their birth and parentage. But the practical process demands documentation that many adoptees simply do not possess due to systemic negligence during the adoption era such as a citizenship certificate of a parent or grandparent, an original Nepali birth certificate, verified family links, or a local ward recommendation. The structural failure of the government to rectify those mistakes and grant birthright citizenship is in violation of the human rights of its five thousand adoptees. In my own file, for example, my birth father and adoptive parents signed a clause agreeing not to erase my religion or name and to facilitate my return to Nepal. These were not symbolic gestures — they were official commitments enshrined in Nepali legal documents. They demonstrate an intention by the Nepali state to protect the child’s identity and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-assam-connection-revived">connection to the country</a>, not to erase it.&nbsp; The state must therefore do its part to honor the clauses it required others to sign. Failing to do so does not just betray individual adoptees—it undermines <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/constitutional-guardianship-in-nepal">Nepal’s credibility in its own legal system</a> and its obligations under <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/latest/stop-stalling-transitional-justice-global-human-rights-bodies">international human rights</a> and children’s rights frameworks.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250522230540_980907d76717d6d91e3f40ac73cdbddd83fe2887f385994541aa19ea4f434992.png" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20250522230540_980907d76717d6d91e3f40ac73cdbddd83fe2887f385994541aa19ea4f434992" data-rendition-name="original" width="1015" height="922" loading="lazy" alt="Born in Nepal, treated as a foreigner NT"> <figcaption>Adoption agreement between Kul Prasad Adhikari and the family Sacré-Bonnarens with official government stamps detailing Clause 3 about facilitating the return of the adoptee to his/her own country. </figcaption> </figure>  Yet, what adult adoptees now face is the opposite. The hostility we encounter at orphanages, local wards, and District Administration Offices (DAO) stands in sharp contrast to the protective spirit of the original documents. More troubling still is the contradiction between Nepal’s 2010 suspension of intercountry adoption — initiated after international concern over <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/from-the-nepali-press/children-and-crime">child trafficking</a>, falsified documentation, and lack of regulatory oversight — and its ongoing refusal to facilitate the legal return of adoptees.&nbsp; Reports by UNICEF and Hague Conference observers documented cases of children being declared<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=4734"> orphans </a>while biological families were still alive, prompting countries like the US, France, and Italy to halt adoptions from Nepal.&nbsp; In 2007 and again in 2010, Nepal pledged reform, but while the pipeline of adoptions was shut down, no system was created for those sent abroad to come back home. The very individuals whose lives were shaped by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/higher-corruption-in-high-places">the corrupt system </a>Nepal sought to abolish are now being left in limbo. Here are four moments from my NRN citizenship application that highlight the scale of the problem: "You’re not Nepali!"&nbsp; -Kaski DAO official holding my birth certificate At the Kaski DAO office, I was told to my face, while the officer held my Nepali birth certificate in his hands, that I was not Nepali. My Belgian citizenship documents also stated my place of birth as Kaski, and my adoption papers clarified my connection to my birth and adoptive parents. Yet the verdict was final. It was only after we requested to speak to the Deputy Officer and argued based on Nepal’s own adoption documents that we were permitted to begin the procedure. Ironically, the Legal Handbook for Non-Resident Nepalis explicitly lists birth in Nepal as one of the primary forms of proof for establishing NRN eligibility, yet even this was dismissed at the local level. "You don’t speak Nepali, you’re not Nepali!"&nbsp; -Kaski DAO official Several officers opposed the Deputy's decision. They began obstructing the process, questioning my motive, and ridiculing my language ability. One insisted that I respond without my lawyer, as if speaking Nepali, even imperfectly, could serve as legal proof of citizenship.&nbsp; Another official absurdly accused me of speaking with a Hindi accent. I was told, over and over again, that I was not Nepali. Yet language proficiency is not a criterion for citizenship by descent, making these remarks not only discriminatory but legally unfounded. I know my rights and persevered, but many adoptees would be deterred by such hostile behaviour. "You faked your birth certificate!"&nbsp; -Kaski DAO official The accusation of forgery came from a more senior officer. Like most adoptees, I only had English translations of my adoption records, and the originals were not preserved by the ward office. The ward office of my birth parents facilitated the renewal of the certificate based on the English translation. The Embassy of Nepal in Belgium had accepted this same document for my NRN card. Yet at the Kaski DAO office, it became grounds for suspicion. Here lies the deeper issue for adoptees: due to incomplete or untranslated records, ward offices often need to reconstruct or reissue birth certificates to align with the format required for legal procedures in Nepal. If Nepal failed to preserve its records, why punish the adoptee? "You should be grateful you’re even considered for citizenship!"&nbsp; -Kaski DAO official Despite having fulfilled every legal requirement, my file was repeatedly placed at the bottom of the pile. When we questioned the delay, we were told to be grateful that I was even being considered. But citizenship is not a gesture of goodwill. It is a legal right. Adoptees, like all Nepalis born <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/born-in-nepal">in Nepal</a>, are entitled to that right, regardless of where they grew up. The ability of lower-level staff to delay or obstruct files at their discretion reveals a deeper structural problem: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/nepal-must-reboot-human-rights-rule-of-law">access to rights in Nepal</a> too often depends not on the law, but on the personal attitudes of those tasked with upholding it. While the hostility was jarring, there were also moments of empathy. The Deputy Officer and Chief Officer acted with integrity, supported my case, and even apologised for the unnecessary delays. But this does not erase the need for structural change. Adoptees returning to claim citizenship are not asking for special treatment. They are invoking rights already granted to them under international law, including<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=16505"> the Convention on the Rights of the Child </a>and the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. These frameworks guarantee the right to identity, family, and nationality. Nepal has an obligation to honour them. Countries like<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/delayed-dreams-for-korea-bound-nepalis"> South Korea </a>have embraced returnee adoptees as part of their diaspora. Nepal must do the same. Public education campaigns and training for administrative staff are urgent. DAO officers must be equipped to understand who adoptees are, what records they can bring, and how their return is not a threat, but a form of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/justice-delayed-justice-denied-byrx8a1c">justice</a>. The roughly 5,000 Nepali children adopted abroad were once exported as orphans. Now, many are returning as adults — educated, legally prepared, and determined. They are not visitors. They are citizens.&nbsp; And they will not wait. They will claim their rights, case by case, until the system is forced to evolve. Hari Prasad Adhikari Sacré, PhD, is a postdoctoral researcher at Ghent University in Belgium, specialising in education, multilingualism, identity and intercountry adoption.

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Born in Nepal, treated as a foreigner

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

Turkish Basketball

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

The Everest Industry

While Nepal marked <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/mt-everest-pvt-ltd">Mt Everest</a> Day on 29 May, on the other side of the planet in the US state of Colorado dozens of Nepalis who have climbed the world’s highest peak multiple times were busy working as chefs and Uber drivers. Among them is Nima Doma Sherpa, who climbed Mt Everest in 2019 after her husband Tshering Wangchu was among 16 crushed by an avalanche on <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/on-thin-ice-in-the-khumbu">the Khumbu Icefall</a> five years earlier. A large serac broke off the West Shoulder of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-everest-industry">Mt Everest </a>and fell directly on a group of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/more-porters-sick-on-everest-trail">porters and guides</a> making their way up the Icefall at 5,800m. Their bodies were flown by helicopter to Khumjung where Tshering Wangchu was born. He was excited about climbing Mt Everest for the first time.&nbsp; In Khumjung, Nima Doma felt like her own life had also ended. This was the kind of news Sherpa wives, mothers and sisters dreaded every <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/peak-climbing-season-2025-s4abrxny">mountaineering season</a>. She stayed home for more than two years grieving, but ultimately gathered up all her emotional strength to take care of her 6-year-old son and 3-year-old daughter. Nima had grown up in Khumjung hearing <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/stories-of-nepal-s-summiteers">tales of adventure on the mountains </a>from their father, Ang Chubi Sherpa who had climbed Everest in 1993. He used to bring her and her sisters and brother European chocolates after every expedition, and used to tell them that the chocolate bars grew on the mountains. “It was only after we got older did we realise that he told us that chocolates grew in the mountains so we would not worry about him putting himself in harm's way,” Nima Doma recalled with a faraway look at her home in Boulder this week. Nima went to the school that <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/commemorating-edmund-hillary-in-nepal,4145">Edmund Hillary</a> opened in Khumjung till Grade 8, and then dropped out to help in the kitchen and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/when-yaks-go-so-does-culture">tend yaks</a>. She was married off to Tshering Wangchu, who was also a high altitude guide. When Tshering went on expeditions, Nima also started working as a porter from Namche to Base Camp. It was perhaps her father’s tales of mountains of chocolates that had always attracted her to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/knowing-our-mountains-43v4iyvo">the peaks</a>. After her husband was killed ten years ago this month, being a widow with children was not easy for Nima Doma. But she was not alone: there were at least 200 single mothers in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/khumbu-since-1950-jaww4qn0">the Khumbu</a>, and 20 of them just in Khumjung whose husbands had been killed in <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/tragic-start-to-himalayan-spring-nepal,3695">mountaineering accidents</a>. Some were not even 20 years old, and had children growing up without fathers. But there were also women in the 50s whose husbands had been killed in the 1980s. Nima found sponsors for her children’s education, and moved to Kathmandu. In the capital, Sherpa widows used to meet to help each other. Some of them had joined the Nepal Mountaineering Association (NMA) training for rock and ice climbing. “I decided that it was no use sitting home and crying anymore, after meeting other single mothers I felt less alone,” remembers Nima, who joined the Juniper Foundation and enrolled in an NMA training camp in Manang. There she climbed Chulu East (6,584m) and met Furadiki Sherpa, whose rope-fixing husband had also been <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/on-mt-everest-s-70th-records-and-fatalities">killed on Everest</a> in 2013. They set themselves the goal of climbing Everest one day, and started a fund-raising drive.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250530090544_621be0724b9182c8e3594b2c562a71ec32ac01d985a71d0cf31646de9d51e15a.png" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20250530090544_621be0724b9182c8e3594b2c562a71ec32ac01d985a71d0cf31646de9d51e15a" data-rendition-name="original" width="2678" height="1274" loading="lazy" alt="Everest summiteers find new life in the US"> </figure>  “We decided we had to overcome society’s stigma of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/widows-personal-happiness-comes-last-in-face-of-social-financial-hardships,1855">widowhood</a> and prove that <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/remembering-junko-tabei">women could also climb mountains</a>,” Nima said, adding that she was inspired by Nepal’s first woman Everest summiteer Pasang Lhamu Sherpa, who died during her descent in 1993. Nima Doma and Furdiki climbed the technically-difficult Ama Dablam (6,812m) and then arrived at Everest Base Camp in April 2019 as part of their Two Widows Expedition with the motto, ‘So Can We’. While climbing up the Icefall Nima passed the spot where her husband had been killed. It was a jumble of constantly-shifting ice blocks bigger than houses. She closed her eyes and said a prayer. “I remember thinking, this is so difficult and dangerous. This is what my husband had to do to support our family,” Nima Doma said. “I was determined to fulfil my husband’s dream of climbing Chomolungma, and to prove to ourselves that we two women could do it.” It was 23 May 2019 when <a href="https://www.reuters.com/article/world/two-sherpa-widows-scale-everest-and-smash-stigma-idUSKCN1SU0MV/" target="_blank">Nima and Furdiki stepped on the summit</a> and looked over into Tibet, and down at Tengboche Monastery to the south.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250530090544_6b822582b5d88ba5e972db084f184690b40653c6efd9901b2dd082ffba2a263b.png" data-media-id="editor_16" data-image-id="20250530090544_6b822582b5d88ba5e972db084f184690b40653c6efd9901b2dd082ffba2a263b" data-rendition-name="original" width="2700" height="1522" loading="lazy" alt="Everest summiteers find new life in the US"> </figure>  Nima Doma hugged Furdiki, took off her mask and wept. But for the first time in five years, it was not from grief but relief — relief for being free of all the sadness and sacrifices and for fulfilling her husband’s dream. They had found <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/life-after-death">life after death</a>. “I felt this immense joy to be on top of the world, it was indescribable,” Nima Doma said, “I have wept only twice in my life. Once when my husband died, and once there on top of Everest.” The tears had frozen on Nima Doma’s cheeks, as she and Furdiki headed back down the mountain.

Everest summiteers find new life in the US

Chinese EV company Dongfeng Nammi has exported 12,000 units of the JF-S3 to over 40 countries, doing especially well in Norway, Latvia, the Czech Republic, and the Netherlands. It is also setting up production facilities in South America and Southeast Asia.&nbsp;

nepali-adoptees-abroad

Born in Nepal, treated as a foreigner

Turkish Basketball

The Everest Industry

Everest summiteers find new life in the US

Dongfeng worldwide