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

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“I have lived a simple, boring life”

Halucha is a carpenter living a happy life with his big family in Kathmandu’s Maru Hiti in the 1960s handcrafting chairs, tables and temple woodwork. He observes festivals of his Newa community including <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-legend-behind-the-myth-of-indra-jatra">Yenya</a>, Indra Jatra, enjoys his favourite choila baji and with friends, and occasionally momocha. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/suburban-tales/wine-and-women-during-yenya">Wine and women during Yenya</a>, Pratibha Tuladhar  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240914040936_b1f8b03dc37e18d45a24c93422715ea0f6480b050683893d0fc5f3a8d6a290ce.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20240914040936_b1f8b03dc37e18d45a24c93422715ea0f6480b050683893d0fc5f3a8d6a290ce" data-rendition-name="original" width="1833" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="London Lakhey review MASK NT2"> </figure>  But then a big new furniture factory is set up nearby, which takes away the jobs of those with the ancestral occupation of carpentry. Halucha loses his customers.&nbsp; One thing leads to another and by the 1970s, Halucha travels to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepalis-in-the-garden-of-england">England for work</a> after borrowing money at a high interest rate. London is rainy and dreary, he struggles with the language and at his job. He has no friends, people look at him differently and treat him poorly. He feels lonely and homesick. The isolation affects his <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-other-pandemic-mental-health">mental health</a> and before long, he loses his job and is homeless.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240914040952_5ff460d094ce67737cfcdf0bbf88edaadeffd58571806fe91bfc37a962d1390f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20240914040952_5ff460d094ce67737cfcdf0bbf88edaadeffd58571806fe91bfc37a962d1390f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1320" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="London Lakhey review MASK NT3"> </figure>  Author Ojesh Singh weaves a layered tale that delves into the universal themes of migration, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/50-diaspora-diaries-in-nepali-times">diaspora</a>, mental health, racism, heritage and identity in simple, engaging storytelling style with vibrant illustrations by Sahanshil Dangol in the new Nepali children’s book, London Lakhey. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/brain-gain-into-brain-drain">Brain gain into brain drain</a>, Sonia Awale “Children are smarter than we give them credit for, they have genuine reactions and responses, and the earlier they are exposed to difficult emotions, the sooner they will learn to express them openly and grow up better able to deal with them,” says Dangol on some of the heavier themes underlying London Lakhey. Indeed, as children’s literature, the book does not shy away from difficult topics. This was a very conscious choice, says Singh, who himself went to England in 1999 and is now an aerospace engineer running two restaurants specialising in Newa cuisine in London. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/suburban-tales/passing-the-baton-on">The Unstoppables</a>, Pratibha Tuladhar&nbsp; “The story is inspired by some of my own experience when I moved to England and that of people close to me, the not-so-easy beginning, the loneliness,” adds Singh, who is in Kathmandu to launch the book.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240914040956_bc4f28cd93c2b2c568d979707bc0d8a04f37e0fe519e1d8752f952b91a5fdea2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20240914040956_bc4f28cd93c2b2c568d979707bc0d8a04f37e0fe519e1d8752f952b91a5fdea2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1141" loading="lazy" alt="London Lakhey review MASK NT"> </figure>  “The first thing we Nepalis seek abroad is a plate of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/dal-bhat-power">warm dal bhat</a> and not getting that can be so hard, then there are our festivals, dance and music that we miss so much.” Singh had it relatively easy as his father was already in the UK. But even then, he had to support himself and for the first five years he studied by day, while working at a restaurant at night. Finally, he bought his own restaurant, and another one a few years later. He calls them “Nepali-Indian” restaurants but actually specialise in Newa food, the first of few in the London area. “I do a lot of work virtually so the restaurant for me is like a living room and it is as if I am cooking for my friends and family, it keeps me feeling alive,” says Singh, whose clan home is in Basantapur. He is actively involved in the Pasa Pucha Guthi in London as one of the founding member since its inception in 2000. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepalis-in-the-garden-of-england">Nepalis in the Garden of England</a>, Joy Stephens The Newa-English community in London organises cultural events including performing the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-spirit-that-is-fire">Lakhey mask dance</a> during Mha Puja, also the Newari New Year. This real-life tradition in London serves as an inspiration for the book. “The new generation of Nepali diaspora should know the struggles of their parents, what they went through, some were asylum seekers, others came for better opportunities,” says Singh, stating how this was one of the ideas behind the book, especially as he is himself a father now. A mutual contact brought animator and illustrator Sahanshil Dangol onboard for the book, and the two would go on to work closely for the nearly two years it took for the volume to develop. Dangol works for London-based studios and was previously involved in making commercials and music videos for up-and- coming Nepali artists like Yugal Gurung and Ankit Shrestha.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/memories-of-a-london-nepali-hangout">Memories of a London Nepali hangout</a>, Sunil Pun But what really got him passionate about the book project was the Lakhey element. During his undergrad, Dangol was working on a film to document his cousin’s mask dances in Pokhara but had to shelve it. He has since come across the Nepali Creative Gang, an online collective of artists, writers, game developers, animators and others which helps young talent with guidance and feedback as well as protection for their work. Dangol went on to develop a 4-minute-long stop motion film called Death and Exposure but he always had the Lakhey project at the back of his mind. “It felt like a second chance to work on something close to my heart,” he told Nepali Times in a video interview from London. It also helped that the characters spoke to him. Having moved to London at 11 following his father who was in the army, Dangol never felt like he quite fit in, neither in London, nor in Kathmandu. “Growing up, I didn’t have Nepali friends, and in any case, I didn’t feel like I completely belonged anywhere, and while I didn’t go through everything that Halucha went through in the story, I could still resonate with the character and sympathise with him, it is a relatable story with so many of our friends and families migrating today.” Dangol based the physical attributes of Halucha and other characters on people around him. The last few pages of the book are dedicated to the process of illustration including doodles and sketched studies of Lakhey and his masks. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/getting-behind-the-divine-mask">Getting behind the divine mask</a> The Lakhey mask depicted in the book is a variation of the real thing which is supposed to give devotees divine powers when they wear them. In fact, communities in Kathmandu did not want their actual mask to be represented in the book for fear of offending the deities.&nbsp; Lakhey is a demon in the carnival of God but is worshipped as a deity protecting townspeople of the Newa civilisation. He is depicted as having a ferocious face, protruding fangs, and a mane of red or black hair.&nbsp; During festivals including Indra Jatra which falls on 17 September this year (below), he comes out on the streets and dances in a trance whirling and jumping to the thump of drums.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240914040936_0d60bd64fe6b3db69c9654e3a90569768ba0caeaaaacd1b46b5ca4e357b21a6e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_15" data-image-id="20240914040936_0d60bd64fe6b3db69c9654e3a90569768ba0caeaaaacd1b46b5ca4e357b21a6e" data-rendition-name="original" width="2170" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="London Lakhey review MASK NT 4"> </figure>  On the surface, London Lakhey is a children’s book but since its release, it has found as many adolescent and adult readers who have requested most copies, says Dangol. “I want our children to remember their roots and not be ashamed of it. They can so easily feel embarrassed because they are eating dal bhat for lunch and not burgers and pizza,” says Singh.&nbsp; “We have to own up to our roots but we don’t have to stick to one singular identity either, it can be a mix of Newa and British like in my own persona. This is important for stability and a peace of mind.” ­­  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240914040936_4af67a538381c66209f7cc834a6b2056857275cc12c2b3a5e3bf6f3f1c1c78c9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_16" data-image-id="20240914040936_4af67a538381c66209f7cc834a6b2056857275cc12c2b3a5e3bf6f3f1c1c78c9" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="London Lakhey review MASK NT 5"> </figure>

Sonia Awale

MASK

For a moment after landing at Leh airport, Nepalis can be forgiven for thinking they have just arrived in Jomsom.&nbsp; The drive into the capital of India’s Union Territory of Ladakh situated at 3,500m offers many other similarities: the arid terrain, surrounding snow-capped peaks, prayer flags fluttering everywhere, chortens and stupas.&nbsp; Although situated on the western edge of the Himalaya, it is as if the geology, culture, language and religion of Mustang leapfrogged 1,500km over northern India to transplant itself here.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240712040752_d8137187d6634badae56afc915bab7aa6bf07be0ba2f7b0ad8497c24d18fe3cc.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20240712040752_d8137187d6634badae56afc915bab7aa6bf07be0ba2f7b0ad8497c24d18fe3cc" data-rendition-name="original" width="794" height="583" loading="lazy" alt="Ladakh's Nepal links Page 6-7 NT #1220"> </figure>  Pangong Tso stretches 160km to the east into China, and could be mistaken for Phoksundo in Dolpo, except that at 4,300m it is the world’s highest salt-water lake. A 30 minute drive south of Leh is Shey Gomba, a namesake of a similar-looking monastery in Dolpo. This ancient palace and shrine has two gilded copper statues of the sitting Buddha which were crafted by Nepali artisans that Ladakh’s King Delden Namgyal brought over from Nepal 400 years ago.&nbsp; One of the statues is 8m tall and has the name of the Nepali sculptor, Sanga Zargar Wanduk, inscribed on it. Legend has it that 8kg of gold and 120kg of copper were used and the statue took 20 years to make.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240712040752_47bde3afa140d19c310556d68848c0842ca3b102c89b1c8217fb5b2db1a07bcd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20240712040752_47bde3afa140d19c310556d68848c0842ca3b102c89b1c8217fb5b2db1a07bcd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="Ladakh's Nepal links Page 6-7 NT #1220"> <figcaption>Head monk Jigden of Shey Gompa with the 400-year-old gilded Buddha made by Nepali artistans.</figcaption> </figure>  “As far as we know, in 1655 Deldan Namgyal asked the King of Kathmandu to send the artisans to build the two statues to honour his father, King Sengge Namgyal,” head monk Jigden told us.&nbsp; Thirty Nepali metalsmiths were brought to Ladakh, and after completion of the work they settled down near the Shey monastery after King Deldan gave them property. Others were offered farmlands 35km away in Chiling, and some in Chemde. We tracked down one of the descendants of the original Nepali artisans. Phunchuk Dorje, 52, is a goldsmith with a shop inside a warren of narrow alleys in Leh.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240712040752_9185d110c94bbd30383272cb4f74082b4749fb55b6ea3bbdf024cfa0b2d2b26e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20240712040752_9185d110c94bbd30383272cb4f74082b4749fb55b6ea3bbdf024cfa0b2d2b26e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1333" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Ladakh's Nepal links Page 6-7 NT #1220"> <figcaption>Phunchuk Dorje (left) whose artisan ancestors were brought from Nepal to make the Shey Buddha.</figcaption> </figure>  “Yes, my ancestor was the chief artisan who was brought from Nepal by the King of Ladakh to make the Buddha statues, but he and others stayed here,” says Dorje, who went to Nepal with his grandfather and father in 1990 to trace his forebear’s family and home village, and thinks they came from Solu. But Dorje did manage to find old ledgers where his grandfather's name was still entered as ‘Pambar Sunar’. Sunar is a Nepali occupational surname for a goldsmith. It was his father who took up the name Dorje, and he adopted a local Tibetan name. In Ladakh, the descendants of Nepali craftsmen are still called ‘Shergar’, which also means goldsmith, and the craft seems to have been passed down over the generations to Dorje. Dorje says he is both a Hindu and Buddhist, worshipping Ganesh, the Buddha and revering the Dalai Lama. In his altar at home, Dorje has a small bronze Ganesh that his grandfather brought from Nepal, and he now regards it as his family’s patron deity.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240712040752_bd74346e403b2567ead2c0944e0ea844873a8c9089073223c718d7ea116cb9b3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20240712040752_bd74346e403b2567ead2c0944e0ea844873a8c9089073223c718d7ea116cb9b3" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Ladakh's Nepal links Page 6-7 NT #1220"> <figcaption>Thiksey Monastery near Lah that is also called the 'Mini Potala'</figcaption> </figure>  Dorje’s father worked for the Indian Army, and once, after he became very ill, doctors gave up on saving his life and asked the family to take him home. Dorje prayed fervently to Ganesh, and says that within a week his father got well.&nbsp; Four hundred years after his forefather came to Ladakh, Dorje says he still has a strong attachment to the land of his ancestors, and has married a Nepali-speaking woman. Fascinated that Nepali visitors have come to see him, he confesses: “I have this strange fixation on finding out where exactly in Nepal my ancestors came from. If I had more money I would go to Nepal again on a search mission.” &nbsp; History and geography  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240712040752_52491e995b4858eb7665d54e55b6277508a4dc80cb70deb3dc332e955d58953a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20240712040752_52491e995b4858eb7665d54e55b6277508a4dc80cb70deb3dc332e955d58953a" data-rendition-name="original" width="801" height="606" loading="lazy" alt="Ladakh's Nepal links Page 6-7 NT #1220"> </figure>  Like Mustang, Ladakh is in the trans-Himalayan plateau. Only one third of the territory is today under Indian administration after the Aksai Chin region was annexed by China in the 1962 war. Pakistan controls the western half of Kashmir that includes parts of Ladakh. These are still volatile borders, which is why there is a strong Indian military presence in the strategic mountainous territory. At least 20 Indian and four Chinese soldiers were killed in clashes in 2020-21 between Indian and Chinese troops in Galwan, north of Leh.&nbsp; The 3-month battle in Kargil in July-September 1999 between India and Pakistan was serious enough to be called the Kargil War in which more than 1,000 soldiers were killed on both sides. &nbsp; &nbsp;Many of those who died in various wars against Pakistan and China were Gorkha soldiers from Nepal well acclimated for mountain warfare in high terrain. They were posthumously honoured with gallantry medals, and their names and photos are displayed in the Hall of Fame, 10km from Leh. Some of them: Dying away from home Major Hari Chand engaged Pakistani troops at elevations of 5,500m in 1948 and helped India gain control of Leh. He was awarded the Mahavir Chakra medal for gallantry.&nbsp; &nbsp;Lt Col Dhan Singh Thapa fought till the end against Chinese troops in October 1962. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Second Lieutenant Min Bahadur Gurung fought alongside Lt Col Thapa and charged a Chinese mortar position, destroying it before being killed. He was posthumously promoted to Lt Col, awarded India’s highest medal for valour, the Param Vir Chakra. A border post on the western shore of Pangong Tso &nbsp;was named after him.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240712120740_8b82d1a558674dbff7b8b849f1808781610049e62d8be9f8474a6696094ee893.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20240712120740_8b82d1a558674dbff7b8b849f1808781610049e62d8be9f8474a6696094ee893" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1350" loading="lazy" alt="Ladakh's Nepal links Page 6-7 NT #1220"> </figure>  Lance Corporal Rabi Lal Thapa was awarded the Mahavir Chakra for saving an Indian unit from Chinese attacks in Ladakh in October 1962. Capt Manoj Pandey was awarded the Param Vir Chakra. He was killed in Kargil in July 1999. Other Nepalis were awarded Mahavir Charka for bravery in various other battles since 1948 against Pakistani and Chinese troops: Maj Rajesh Adhikari, Lance Corporals Prem Gurung and Nara Bahadur Ale. But today, it almost seems as if there are more tourist buses than military vehicles and more tourists than soldiers in Ladakh. Indian visitors ‘discovered’ Ladakh after the 2009 Bollywood hit The Three Idiots was filmed at Pangong Tso, and in 2012 Jab Tak Hai Jaan was shot on location in Ladakh. <h2>“It will be difficult to run Ladakh’s businesses without Nepalis.”</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240712040752_64be609bc0849669edb4642090d9d469eea2866728722d123e50ac512d03b753.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20240712040752_64be609bc0849669edb4642090d9d469eea2866728722d123e50ac512d03b753" data-rendition-name="original" width="1333" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Ladakh's Nepal links Page 6-7 NT #1220"> <figcaption>Chandra Ghising from Sindhuli has been working in Leh for 15 years.</figcaption> </figure>  The Tibetan Kitchen in Leh is open from noon till midnight, but is so busy that entry is only allowed with table reservation. The restaurant is run entirely by 36 Nepalis from managers and chefs to waiters. “There is no other reason we are so popular, we have the best food,” says manager Gyan Pun Magar simply. “Just look at that line outside.” &nbsp;In the town of Merak near the Chinese border, the Grand Himalayan Hotel is also run entirely by Nepalis.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240712060732_3cf3463d10ee8946f93d16606008300ba8f52a8fe18f7df68d2730075fcbfde1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20240712060732_3cf3463d10ee8946f93d16606008300ba8f52a8fe18f7df68d2730075fcbfde1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1750" height="2333" loading="lazy" alt="Ladakh's Nepal links Page 6-7 NT #1220"> <figcaption>Gyan Pun Magar, Nepali manager of the Tibetan Kitchen.</figcaption> </figure>  “Ladakh would still be here without Nepalis, but it would be difficult to run businesses here without us. From soldiers to cooks to rafting guides, we run everything,” says Rana Bahadur Pandey, who runs a bakery and migrated here from Nuwakot 25 years ago. Indeed, a new Buddhist stupa being constructed on the outskirts of Leh is being built almost entirely by Nepalis, just like their ancestors who sculpted the gilded Buddhas of Shey Monastery 400 years ago.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240712040752_69bb0881c82b011126212f7c183846e63071a074f590b98dd26a7d36f5357bf9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20240712040752_69bb0881c82b011126212f7c183846e63071a074f590b98dd26a7d36f5357bf9" data-rendition-name="original" width="1333" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Ladakh's Nepal links Page 6-7 NT #1220"> <figcaption>Milan Pathak (in orange) and fellow rafting guides from Nepal on the Zanskar River.</figcaption> </figure>  Along the highway from Leh to Pangong, Siddhi and Sujit Pariyar from Jumla are selling herbs and aromatic oils to tourists. There are 15 others from Jumla selling Nepali herbal products who spend summers here, and return home to their families for Dasain with their earnings. “When the monsoon off-season stops trekking, mountaineering and rafting in Nepal, we move to Ladakh,” says Milan Pathak, a rafting guide. Like others, Pathak runs white water on the Kali Gandaki, Bhote Kosi and Trisuli back home, and comes here for three months to raft on the Zanskar River, a tributary of the Indus. They head back in September at the start of the autumn rafting season in Nepal. The Zanskar River runs about 200km before it joins the Indus and the Nepali guides offer day trips of 35km, or half-day packages of 14km. &nbsp;

Ladakh’s Nepal links

The Nepali Dream is taking many Nepalis outside the country in search of a better life. Most young people on the streets of Kathmandu, in cafés or teashops are either waiting for their flights out, or for their visas. Nearly four million Nepalis live and work abroad, most of them in India, West Asia, Australia, Malaysia, Japan, Korea, the US and across Europe. More than 6,000 are in Denmark alone. These are their dreams. Rojina Syangbo, 29  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240701080740_2b3a01b332c6bd1dff34d939b6017e23f79e0fb734e51a8a4c001f0a2c316331.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20240701080740_2b3a01b332c6bd1dff34d939b6017e23f79e0fb734e51a8a4c001f0a2c316331" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="Nepalis in Denmark NT 1"></figure>  “I want to find a proper job here,” says Rojina, who has been working part-time at a restaurant in Aarhus for the past six months. But this is not where she wants to end up. After getting her Master’s in Soil and Global Change from Aarhus University last year, she has been living in this western Danish town in a rented room near Den Gamle By. Rojina is working on her job application, goes to Danish language tutorial and is taking a Data Analytics class. In her late 20s, she is determined to find a job in her field so she can make her parents proud. There is pressure from her parents to get married and settle down, so her life will be easier. But she does not want to get married, at least not yet. Rojina believes a proper job will give her freedom and a better life, and she hopes to find that within the next six months. Stay tuned. Kritika Pokhrel, 27  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240701080740_957a4e6dadc6992102fabf45a8e8b50877c0b3e3fa5f1c2fe7dc284d42e6cc97.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20240701080740_957a4e6dadc6992102fabf45a8e8b50877c0b3e3fa5f1c2fe7dc284d42e6cc97" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="Nepalis in Denmark"></figure>  “I like to go for walks these days, it helps me feel alive,” says Kritika, who lives in Aarhus and is on a strict deadline to finish her Master’s thesis by this month. She used to be a good undergrad student in Nepal before coming to Belgium, where she finished the first year of her Master’s. She then moved to Denmark last year, but it has been hard for her in Europe. The education system based on software and technology is much more advanced here. She could not navigate the lectures and assignments, and slowly her grades dropped. “If I don’t get settled in Denmark, I will go back to Nepal,” says Kritika, and is now convinced life will be better in her own country where she once worked for a British volunteer agency as a Learning and Capacity Development Adviser. Ruza Chauhan and Hemanta Thapa, 22  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240701080744_c7955cbafae7235365735f226226a6d609c4d2f8209b387d99ea286b20c59ba8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20240701080744_c7955cbafae7235365735f226226a6d609c4d2f8209b387d99ea286b20c59ba8" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="Nepalis in Denmark"></figure>  “We will fulfill our dreams together,” says Ruza Chauhan, who married Hemanta last year after knowing him for five years. Ruza’s application for an Australian visa was rejected, but they found out it was easy for a married couple to move to Denmark and came here last September. Hemanta is studying Climate and Supply Engineering at VIA University Campus Horsens, and to support his studies and overhead costs, Ruza is working full time at a cleaning company. That is still not enough to make a living, though. “I had to ask for my last semester fee from my parents,” confides Hemanta, who also works part-time in the town of Vejle. The couple is adjusting to the new country, and Ruza discontinued her studies to support her husband. They cannot both afford to be studying at the same time. Once her husband finishes university, Ruza plans to get training in hairdressing. They are confident they can take on any challenge life throws at them. They want to stay on in Denmark before they decide on their next move. Surya Prajapati, 35  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240701080744_473e8ba496193791179bba8b53369db892f5d06b11af280ebef085d2d5b3718d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20240701080744_473e8ba496193791179bba8b53369db892f5d06b11af280ebef085d2d5b3718d" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="Nepalis in Denmark"></figure>  Surya Prajapati came to Denmark eight years ago to study Structural Engineering. After the 2015 earthquake in Nepal, he worked on reconstruction of houses and the Darbar Squares of Kathmandu Valley. While with a Danish organisation in Nepal, he saw the faults in Nepal's construction sector. Surya realised that he needed to upgrade his knowledge and practice. The streets and architecture of Aarhus fascinate him, and he is amazed by how Danes adapt modern elements with traditional architecture. Surya works at Envidan, a Danish consulting engineering company, as a project engineer. He was born in Bhaktapur and wants to eventually go back and revive the rich architectural heritage of his hometown. He says, “The least I can do is give back to the community where I was born.” Soni Sah, 29  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240701080744_494f7e08bd1ec3f23eda576e47edf86e35dca6ce91f663269dec2d5f951c25e7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20240701080744_494f7e08bd1ec3f23eda576e47edf86e35dca6ce91f663269dec2d5f951c25e7" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="Nepalis in Denmark"></figure>  “It’s hard to integrate into the Danish society and family life here,” says Sony, who has been married to a Danish man for the past four years. She speaks fluent Danish and is familiar with the culture and society here, but still feels left out. Sony is studying Molecular Biology at Aarhus University but says she does not have many close friends in class. It is lonely despite having a supportive husband. But she likes the degree of personal freedom in Denmark, which was not possible back home. She and her husband want to go back to Nepal at some point and work in the research field. Her elderly mother is alone at home. Her husband likes Nepal and its rich culture, and is familiar with the country after having worked there. Prajent Shahi, 30  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240701080748_a34e42d0490abfcae3ec6f4017d46077e6d4add74219fb7f481cb19b96d3e6c6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20240701080748_a34e42d0490abfcae3ec6f4017d46077e6d4add74219fb7f481cb19b96d3e6c6" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="Nepalis in Denmark"></figure>  Prajent burned his hand while making breakfast in the morning and is in pain. He is studying Business Development at Aarhus University in Herning and has been living and working in Denmark for over two years with his wife Leena Rai. Prajent worked as a data specialist in Nepal for four years, but he did not see much of a future. He chose Denmark as it is easier for married couples to get a dependent visa compared to Australia, a major destination for Nepalis who want to study and work abroad. Since he arrived, Shahi has worked in restaurants, cleaning companies, catering firms, and hotels. His wife works as a chef at a Danish restaurant. Like other Nepali students here, Prajent is struggling with the cost of living and saving enough for school fees. Prajent has to pay 54,000 Danish Kroner ($7,800) every semester. He is concerned about his parents back in Nepal since he is the only child.“Sometimes I feel guilty about leaving them alone and not being there when they need me the most,” Prajent admits. He dreams of starting an IT company in Nepal some day. Aashish Ghimire, 24  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240701080748_25c005a55e3beee48efd7d0cd8a02179e0383588a87abd4e5a02bed06c3a8258.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20240701080748_25c005a55e3beee48efd7d0cd8a02179e0383588a87abd4e5a02bed06c3a8258" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="Nepalis in Denmark"></figure>  Aashish’s rented room in the basement of a house close to the Botanical Garden in Aarhus has one bed, one table, two suitcases. It feels like a room of someone in transit. Aashish moved to Denmark last September and is studying Economics and Business Administration at Aarhus University. As he gazes outside his window with a faraway look, he says, “I have to pay the loan that my parents took up to send me to Denmark.” For an average Nepali middle-class person, it is hard to afford education at a foreign university without borrowing money from family or a bank. Most Nepali students work as cleaners or in cafés and bars to support their studies and living. Aashish also works in a Rema 1000 warehouse, and sometimes as a food delivery courier. It has been difficult for him to manage paying school fees, and meet living costs. After finishing his studies next summer, he hopes to get a skilled job. Aashish is convinced that his life will improve by then, “It can’t be hard forever,” he says.

Looking for the Nepali Dream

This is the 50th edition of Diaspora Diaries, a regular series in Nepali Times with stories of Nepalis living and working abroad. When I was growing up in Nuwakot, I used to see fellow villagers come back from Kathmandu wearing fancy clothes and carrying a certain swagger. They were earning good money in the garment industry, so I followed them and joined a factory in Kathmandu. I started out as a helper, but after three months, asked the manager to let me use the sewing machine. I experimented, taught myself how to use it based on observation and guidance from others. Fortunately, it came easy for me. The garment industry has been my entire world since then. It is all I know, and all I understand. I spent eight years working in the factory in Nepal and became good at it. We made clothes that were exported to the Netherlands where the garment owner knew a fellow Nepali. An acquaintance once suggested that I go overseas as there was demand for garment jobs in Jordan. I am not sure if it was, as they say, लहर or रहर (fad or fervor) but in 2012 we applied. The Chinese interviewer who had come from Jordan took a test asking interviewees to sew pockets on a piece of fabric. But I was asked to pull a thread through needles in an overlock sewing machine, which I did seamlessly. I was selected, and a few months later flew off to Jordan. I didn't even know where Jordan was. Life overseas for us migrant workers was like going to school again. You stay in the dormitory, and show up to work every morning, looking forward to that one day off every week. Every day is the same as the previous day, and you race to maximise output. In Nepal, one worker would be responsible for the entire garment. But in Jordan we had an assembly line of 35 or so workers, all Nepalis in my case, who stitched specific parts of the jacket- whether it was a sleeve cuff or armhole. It was faster. The jackets were sold in Japan, the US for about $100 each, and were of good quality. Things in the factory felt systematic. I will always remember a Nepali dai who had been in Jordan for years, and was familiar with the place and spoke Arabic. He welcomed us when we first arrived and told us to let him know if we needed any help. Jordan did not have a Nepal embassy, but as far as we were concerned he was our ambassador.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023121808120_f9ced66ffd52da470ef9e45433fef5e990ccc2e8487cec53a92465b79ab494eb.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2023121808120_f9ced66ffd52da470ef9e45433fef5e990ccc2e8487cec53a92465b79ab494eb" data-rendition-name="original" width="480" height="640" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries NT"> </figure>  Ten months later, I fell sick. I did not want to remain in Jordan in case I became more ill or if I needed hospitalisation or surgery. Who would take care of me? &nbsp;I missed my family, especially my wife, so I returned to Nepal. A few years later after the earthquake of 2015, the same employers showed up for interviews in Nepal. I was also looking for better earning opportunities so I applied again. The interviewer recognised me and rehired me instantly. I found comfort in knowing that I already knew some of the colleagues and fellow Nepalis from my previous stint at the company.&nbsp; This time, I stuck around in Jordan from 2016 right till Covid-19. I saved up Rs70,000 every month, a large part of it tied to bonuses as the basic salaries by themselves were lower. In Nepal, I struggle to save any money but it was easier there because living expenses are taken care of. So even if the salaries may not be much higher than Nepal, it is easier to save overseas. We all have some form of skills or talent, it is money that we don’t have. That is why we go abroad. My father was a simple farmer and I did not inherit property. I started from zero, but with overseas employment, I was at least able to save some money and build a base for myself and my family. I have bought some assets, and am working hard now to ensure adequate savings for my wife and my &nbsp;old age security as well as the children’s future. During the pandemic we were kept in the company accommodation without work, but we were paid our monthly salaries. We also received some assistance from the Jordan government which I appreciated. But I decided to return to Nepal because work got slower and with it our incomes dropped. If it had not been for Covid, I do not think I would have returned. I was doing just fine there. On my brother’s advice, I started a small company in Kathmandu that produces and sells bags. Post-Covid a lot of shop fronts were vacant, so it was easy to get a good rental deal. My wife and I make and sell bags, which has allowed us to have a decent life. Our major clients are schools and offices in the neighborhood. The savings abroad and my benefits after leaving helped.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023121808120_ff1e34ba356e18e33dbe3d0ded04fc46429b12be1c30af5f512929c5ce07ddd1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2023121808120_ff1e34ba356e18e33dbe3d0ded04fc46429b12be1c30af5f512929c5ce07ddd1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="900" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 50"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023121808120_ec75d1654ee0e49a63532d54dcdcd66de0ffcfc8c98633b2f62e68bd0201424a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2023121808120_ec75d1654ee0e49a63532d54dcdcd66de0ffcfc8c98633b2f62e68bd0201424a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="900" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries"> </figure>  &nbsp;I now aspire to go to Europe for work, which unfortunately has not worked out despite a few attempts. I have also lost some money in the process. It makes me wonder if it is God’s way of telling me to remain in Nepal. But my motivation to migrate again is different this time. When I went to Jordan, finances were my only concern. It brought me to a position where I can confidently say I have the skills and a base to sustain myself comfortably in Nepal, even if I continue the work I am doing now. It is for the children that I want to go to Europe, so that they have access to better opportunities and an easier life than we did. Translated from a conversation with the author. <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/diaspora-diaries-3/">Diaspora Diaries</a> is a regular column in Nepali Times providing a platform for Nepalis to share their experiences of living, working, studying abroad.&nbsp; Authentic and original entries can be sent to <a href="mailto:editors@nepalitimes.com">editors@nepalitimes.com</a> with Diaspora Diaries in the subject line.&nbsp;

Nepali on the move

This is the 49th edition of Diaspora Diaries, a regular series in Nepali Times with stories of Nepalis living and working abroad. When nothing worked out, I decided to go overseas. After successfully running a dance training academy in Nepal, I decided to invest in a restaurant which was the start of my downfall as an entrepreneur. It failed miserably.&nbsp; It got so bad, I struggled to find a bus fare to travel from my town of Banepa to Kathmandu. I had to start from scratch, and going overseas felt like the best bet.&nbsp; So I went to Qatar to work as a security guard in 2005, and was chosen from among 600 applicants. My English skills helped when I was interviewed again in Qatar when I had to compete with different nationalities and was lucky to be placed in good companies with better facilities than elsewhere. Once the contract of my supply company was over, the employers offered to place me elsewhere. But that posting did not appeal to me, and since I had settled my loans I decided to go home. &nbsp; After a few months, there was a demand for security guards again, this time at a five star hotel in the UAE. Two of us were selected out of 100 applicants. There, I found it interesting how I could identify the richest people by their car brands and especially license plates. Those with one or two digits are worth a lot of money in auctions, and there were many of those in the hotels I was posted to. I went abroad for work because of the दुख: and thankfully the hardships did not follow me there as it does many fellow migrant workers. &nbsp;I was lucky my security guard duties were indoors. Of course, there were challenges, such as difficult night shifts when guests were sometimes rowdy. Overall, I cannot complain.&nbsp; But this does not mean I had सुख: abroad either, I had not gone overseas looking for an easy life. My happiness is my family, and that is why I decided to return home after three years despite a good job. &nbsp; I resigned and was not really tempted by the promotion offers. I wanted to head home to Nepal where a friend wanted help overseeing a school. I became a Discipline In-charge and oversaw administrative functions at the school.&nbsp; While I was working at the school in Nepal, I was also poultry farming on the side. I made Rs50,000 in profit in 45 days, and the earnings were consistently good. This gave me the sense that there was a business potential in raising chicken. &nbsp; I was well suited for my job at the boarding school, but after hours I shed my tie and coat and would be carrying sacks of chicken feed on the bike. People in my community appreciated the fact that I had given up a good job abroad to return to Nepal. There is no big or small work, work is work.&nbsp; From 500 chicken, my farm expanded to 3,500 birds. I left the job at the school, and did full-time poultry farming and the number of chicken rose to 20,000 with a good profit margin.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023121716128_5f8dc50e34c4cd343f15b9090c4b9a36680026bb3e1ee0c8099123a54944108e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2023121716128_5f8dc50e34c4cd343f15b9090c4b9a36680026bb3e1ee0c8099123a54944108e" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="2268" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 49"> </figure>  But then there was a bird flu outbreak in a farm near mine with just 300 chicken, so we had to destroy 17,000 of our birds and halt business for 6 months. Thankfully, the government stepped in with compensation and that cushioned the blow a bit.&nbsp; To diversify, I also started a slaughterhouse which supplies smaller shops. I then expanded to open a banquet venue which dovetailed well with the butchery and poultry farm. But right after, the Covid pandemic hit and there were other challenges to overcome.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20231217161212_95fbbe4a243e2928e89ee68471cae0934eb66a0cce7f411ec2cb80d1b17cdea7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20231217161212_95fbbe4a243e2928e89ee68471cae0934eb66a0cce7f411ec2cb80d1b17cdea7" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="2268" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 49"> </figure>  There is still great potential in the agro-business in Nepal, and if the government extended soft loans and grants real farmers would benefit more. Many of the smallest farmers do not benefit from government support and that is where real intervention is needed.&nbsp; I look back at the time I first migrated overseas for work. Those were different times, simpler times. &nbsp; We had 12-hour shifts, and every Friday the supervisor would arrive in his car with stacks of letters from home. The rush of emotion when we opened the envelopes was overwhelming, and hearing from the family back home was the best feeling in the world. I do not think any other joy compares with it.&nbsp; The song सन्देशे आते हैं still makes me tear up because the lyrics perfectly describe our lives, and it evokes memories of that time. Not receiving letters made us anxious. But when we received them, we would read them with tears since the pieces of paper were touched by our family members. &nbsp;Those were raw, deep feelings that do not exist in today’s interconnected world.&nbsp; I always had a knack for writing, and used to write poems since childhood. These were simpler times and any writing I did as an adult was largely limited to my diary and in letters to my wife.&nbsp; I once remember feeling low on a Saturday while at work. It was a slow day, and I was stationed at the gate. I had to let in cars and could control the barrier from the booth itself. I am not sure why I was homesick that day, and I remember writing relentlessly in my diary which I still keep with me. &nbsp; I used to also help fellow-Nepalis draft letters when they faced family problems, especially with their spouses. Prolonged separation over long distances is already difficult on relationships and words had more value in the era of letters before video calls.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023121716128_752dfba5b7bb174b48de4109b1405230b2b4d44130b72d074895a78b3901101d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2023121716128_752dfba5b7bb174b48de4109b1405230b2b4d44130b72d074895a78b3901101d" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="2268" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 49"> </figure>  But not everyone is good with words, and some of my compatriots needed help to express to their wives how much they loved them and how they were toiling in the desert heat for their futures. Some would thank me because the letters helped mend their marital relations.&nbsp; When you are abroad, you make many friends. But even though over time you lose touch the memories are special. We had autograph books, in which we wrote farewell notes to each other. I still have mine, where one of my friends Parmananda wrote to me: Imprisoned by time, we had to struggle to express in words the mental trauma that bubbled in the corners of our hearts. But that prolonged companionship during which we worked, laughed and cried together will just be memories, and that realisation makes me regretful. However, there is no other recourse but to bandage our broken hearts as we part our ways. We have to accept that all meetings eventually end in separation. Till my last breath, I will read and re-read these words and cling to feelings which are fast fading. Translated from a conversation with the author. <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/diaspora-diaries-3/">Diaspora Diaries</a> is a regular column in Nepali Times providing a platform for Nepalis to share their experiences of living, working, studying abroad.&nbsp; Authentic and original entries can be sent to <a href="mailto:editors@nepalitimes.com">editors@nepalitimes.com</a> with Diaspora Diaries in the subject line.&nbsp;

No work is big or small, work is work

This is the 47th instalment of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/diaspora-diaries">Diaspora Diaries</a>, a regular series in Nepali Times with stories of Nepalis living and working abroad. When I first went overseas in 2005 as a kitchen help to Bahrain, I had just one goal: to save Rs200,000 so I could return to Nepal and start a small business like a cold store. &nbsp; Nearly 20 years later, I am still overseas. The years have just flown by.&nbsp; When I had first started applying to migrate for work, I got rejected in many interviews because of my poor English. I was close to giving up, but instead enrolled myself for language training.&nbsp; And it paid off. I was the last interviewee in a recruitment drive for a Bahrain-based job, but got selected. When I first saw the vacancy in the newspaper, I did not know where Bahrain was. I had heard of Dubai, Saudi Arabia and Qatar, but not Bahrain.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20231123101124_37b1ba3da8af8f5e5448d049083827b68366859b0d8165ccfb8e02da4e8d6efd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20231123101124_37b1ba3da8af8f5e5448d049083827b68366859b0d8165ccfb8e02da4e8d6efd" data-rendition-name="original" width="525" height="700" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 47"> </figure>  After a few years there, I did manage to save my first two lakhs, but then I wanted the next two. And so it went on. As we work and earn, our dreams grow. And there are no limits to our dreams. You buy land back in Nepal, and after some time overseas, manage to build a one-storied house. You build the first storey, and then think why not add another floor. Once the house is done, it’s time to start thinking about the children’s future. There is no end, really. Read Also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/diaspora-diaries/finding-a-niche-in-nepal">Finding a niche in Nepal</a>, Babare Bahadur Bomjan My starting salary in Bahrain was Rs12,000. Now I am a chef earning over 33 times the amount. My specialisation is in French and Italian cuisine at a high end restaurant but with an Arabic twist for the palate of our customers. I manage over 35 kitchen staff from Asia and Africa.&nbsp; At peak hours, the kitchen can get quite chaotic and loud, but I am also at my best under pressure and try to create a fun environment for my team. My base is in Bahrain, but I am currently in Saudi Arabia temporarily setting up a new outlet for the same employer. One of the reasons for my involvement in the Saudi outlet is that many of the new staff are from Nepal so my employer figured it would be easier for me to train and motivate them.&nbsp; Read Also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/diaspora-diaries/adventures-of-a-nepali-coffee-aficionado">Adventures of a Nepali coffee aficionado</a>, Laxmi Prasad Timilsina Before leaving Nepal, I dreamed of joining the army but it got complicated when I used to get questioned in my village, including from my friends who had joined the Maoists. They gave me a hard time.&nbsp; I lied at a canteen that I had prior experience working in restaurants. I kept making mistakes and did not even know how to cut vegetables the right way. I used to say “this is how we used to do it at my old restaurant” and cut carrots without peeling them or putting random spices in noodles. I got away with it. My first mentor in one of the restaurants was a Dubai returnee who trained me. &nbsp; In my years away, I have come home twice intending to stay. My sacrifices and effort working night and day has earned me the trust of my employers so I could tell them that I will go home, try out something and if it does not work out, I will return. And I did return, and they welcomed me back. When you prove yourself at work and build good relationships, doors remain open.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20231123101140_ff3a1b3424a4ea61fa941f967ed4b30bca5af18ced066e319252ec62098be33d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20231123101140_ff3a1b3424a4ea61fa941f967ed4b30bca5af18ced066e319252ec62098be33d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="diaspora diaries 47"> </figure>  Switching jobs also improves your bargaining power and employment benefits, either by your original employer who will match the new offer or the new employer who will try to attract you with better benefits. I have jumped from Bahrain to Qatar and back to Bahrain over the years, and these added to the benefits. Despite what I have achieved, I know that I have missed out a lot in life by being away. True happiness is at home, where my family is. That will never change, no matter how much time I spend away.&nbsp; I first left Nepal when my wife was pregnant with my eldest daughter. It was a time when photos were exchanged over letters and phone calls were expensive and difficult to arrange. I wasn’t there to hold my wife’s hand during those months. Read Also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/diaspora-diaries/the-return-of-a-master-baker">The return of a master baker</a>, Raju Pakhrin I made up for it partially when my son was born eight years later. I could at least go home for the delivery. My daughter will go abroad for her education when she finishes high school next year. By the time I return to Nepal, she will have left to pursue her own dreams. Once she is abroad, I will pass on the baton to her and she will help bring her younger brother to wherever she is. That a family like mine can dream of sending children for overseas education is a testament of our sacrifices. But then you miss all important milestones in life. I could have brought my family to Bahrain but my work schedule is so busy that I would not be able to give them enough time. I have come a long way since my days as a kitchen help. But if someone were to make a movie of my life, it wouldn’t be of my professional journey but rather a story about separation and sacrifices. About not being able to give my family the quality time they deserved.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20231123101124_e67381d1bdc348ac5d675eb569b2c802ac9abb0042eb4c8491cb38e7112594bf.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20231123101124_e67381d1bdc348ac5d675eb569b2c802ac9abb0042eb4c8491cb38e7112594bf" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 47"> </figure>  Ours is a generation of sacrifices. And we were born at a time and in a country where it feels impossible to balance time with family with earning money. There are festivals that you miss because you are away from home. But there are also times when work keeps you so busy that you even forget that it is Dasain back home. &nbsp; Many Nepalis have done well across the Gulf including in the hospitality sector by proving themselves with their hard work and loyalty despite not having formal education or language skills. &nbsp; Youth these days have it a lot easier, young Nepalis are better educated and have English. But it is your skills, work experience and performance at work that matters most. As an interviewer who is involved in recruitment drives now, I have learnt to look beyond English skills or CVs to identify genuinely hard-working people eager to learn and grow.&nbsp; Many newcomers these days are in a rush for overnight success and promotions and get easily disheartened, but it is a process, a journey. With luck, hard work, and patience success will come.&nbsp; Read Also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-on-my-mind">Nepal on my mind</a>, Ishwar Chaulagain I do not think my story is that remarkable. I am a simple Nepali who worked hard and made personal sacrifices, and things fell into place. I was good at grabbing opportunities that came my way. I think that most people who stick to their craft continuously for years will eventually get good at it.&nbsp; Everything might not work out as we plan or hope, but something or other inevitably will. That is my mantra, to give it my all without worrying too much about results. In fact, I try not to worry about anything at all. &nbsp;&nbsp; Translated from a conversation with the author. Diaspora Diaries is a regular column in Nepali Times providing a platform to share experiences of living, working, studying abroad. Authentic and original entries can be sent to editors@nepalitimes.com with Diaspora Diaries in the subject line.

Sky is the limit for Nepali chef in Bahrain

This is the 31st instalment of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/diaspora-diaries">Diaspora Diaries</a>, a regular series in Nepali Times with stories of Nepalis living and working abroad. It had been nine years and one month since I had been working in Malaysia. I was planning to return home for good after reaching the 10-year mark. But I met with a life-threatening accident at the steel plant where I worked. It was dangerous work, and the explosion reminded me in the cruelest way just how dangerous it was. I was unconscious for five days in hospital. When I came to, I realised I had lost my left hand. I wept. As a worker who has only done physical labour all my life, what was I worth without my hand? The idea of returning home made me uncomfortable. I felt like it would be better if I just died there in Malaysia, disappeared without trace. Losing my hand, I had also lost my sense of dignity, confidence. The desire to isolate myself just grew stronger. But as time passed, I started coming to terms with reality. Malaysia was a second home to me. Of my nine siblings, seven have previously worked there. I had family and friends there who reached out to me, took care of me, fundraised for me and showered me with love. It was evident that I had earned the goodwill of people who stood by me at the lowest point in my life. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/diaspora-diaries/i-went-to-earn-and-learn">“I went to earn and learn”</a>, Nawaraj Shrestha  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023050111054_29ca47bc62f769118e2a3412dc24ddbd0c06cb80c828968f3914c357f3128c86.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2023050111054_29ca47bc62f769118e2a3412dc24ddbd0c06cb80c828968f3914c357f3128c86" data-rendition-name="original" width="1536" height="2048" loading="lazy" alt="DD 31"></figure>  Life in my village in Ramechhap was difficult growing up given our economic background. I had no education or skills. To get a job that paid liveable wages overseas felt like the only option. After nearly a decade in Malaysia, I was well liked by my supervisors. I had good duty hours. My struggle in Malaysia allowed me to provide well for my family. In those nine years, I came home thrice on vacation. I had gone there with dreams and ambitions, but I was on my final flight home, maimed and dispirited. I had narrowly escaped death, but dreaded homecoming. I only told my family back home about my situation 15 days after regaining consciousness at the hospital. They were shocked and heartbroken, and insisted I come home immediately. I hung around in Malaysia with a missing limb. I refused to return home without compensation for my workplace accident. I wanted to benefit from their social security scheme and although I heard there were provisions for such support, being able to access it entailed paperwork and constant follow up. In particular, it also required the employer’s proactive support and follow up as they are more aware of the SOCSO program and how to access it than workers like us are. I also relied on informal support of friends and family until I got this sorted out. I may have lost my limb but my responsibility as a father continued so I decided to persist. I had nothing to lose after what had happened. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/diaspora-diaries/migrant-worker-returns-to-create-work-at-home">Migrant worker returns to create work at home</a>, Sunil Bhujel  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023050111054_aeeb65b811ec159bf56745d013ba7c4dc2cf99e023a6d919ff6e7d1d707bc44a.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2023050111054_aeeb65b811ec159bf56745d013ba7c4dc2cf99e023a6d919ff6e7d1d707bc44a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1536" height="2048" loading="lazy" alt="DD 31"></figure>  I used to be offered food and basic items for free from shops frequented by Nepalis, Bangladeshis and Vietnamese. They gave it out of love, but I used to feel bad as I felt these were handouts out of pity and it was discomforting and perhaps hurt my pride. I would feel bad about having these ungrateful thoughts, and for the reluctance to appreciate their generosity and kindness. These were complex emotions to deal with. My persistence finally paid off. I now get a monthly disability benefit of 824 Ringgit ($185) via bank transfers from SOCSO every three months. If I face any problem, the foreign employment board in Kathmandu supports me. I will benefit from this throughout my life which is a relief. It has helped me with some of my household expenses, and has ensured my children’s education. The Governments of Nepal and Malaysia have signed a social security agreement that makes it easier for people to benefit from the scheme in case of accident or death. The agreement provided me with strong support to claim my dues. I am hopeful that the Nepal government can facilitate such support by following up with the employer or the Malaysian government because workers like me do not necessarily know how to work the system there. For workers who face mishaps like I did or families of the deceased, I hope I can serve as an example or source of information about what is possible during these trying times. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/for-better-or-verse-in-the-gulf">For better or verse in the Gulf</a>, Dalbir Singh Baraili  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023050111054_5a4d60cd9210c982486dbbff20870391d8c260c4d14b6388dc15deb4e7b3bed7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="2023050111054_5a4d60cd9210c982486dbbff20870391d8c260c4d14b6388dc15deb4e7b3bed7" data-rendition-name="original" width="1536" height="2048" loading="lazy" alt="DD 31"></figure>  I get Rs2,100 as a disability benefit from the Nepal government as I am categorised under the ख category of disability and not क. But without my limb, I cannot work at all. What can I do with a meager Rs2,100? Which is why the lifelong Malaysian SOCSO benefit is important for me. Through the contributory Foreign Employment Welfare Fund and mandatory insurance under Nepal’s labour approval process, I also received a one time support of around Rs800,000 which provided some financial relief. Thankfully my labour permit was valid, if not, I would not have been eligible. I worry about those in my situation deprived of benefits because they do not have a valid labour permit or are unaware of social security benefits like the SOCSO scheme. Even after years, I can feel the weight of my missing limb. My phantom fingers feel like they are tightly clutched together and causes pain and discomfort throughout my waking hours. I use prosthetics but it is heavy and unnatural. I still break down when I watch shows like Indreni that cover similar stories. The memories do not go away, and the tears do not stop. When the odds are heavily stacked against you and you are left with lasting scars, lifetime social security support can at least provide something reliable to fall back on. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/diaspora-diaries/adventures-of-a-nepali-coffee-aficionado">Adventures of a Nepali coffee aficionado</a>, Laxmi Prasad Timilsina Translated from an interview with the author. Diaspora Diaries 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">editors@nepalitimes.com</a> with 'Diaspora Diaries' in the subject line.

Wounded in the line of duty

This is the 30th instalment of Diaspora Diaries, a regular series in Nepali Times with stories of Nepalis living and working abroad.&nbsp; For a young man like me during the Maoist era, it seemed like those of us who were staying behind in rural Nepal only had two choices: join the Armed Police Force (APF) or the Maoist militia.&nbsp; I used to be a social worker in Tanahu, collecting data on visually impaired locals and connecting them to health camps. The job was neither easy nor financially rewarding. But it was meaningful. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/diaspora-diaries/migrant-worker-returns-to-create-work-at-home">Migrant worker returns to create work at home</a>, Sunil Bhujel However, travelling became too risky because of the conflict, and I had to stop the work. I chose to join the APF because my brother was in it. I remember feeling out of place at the barrack. I had grown up reading and writing literature, but suddenly it was not words but bullets that I learned to use. My true passion lay in pens, not pistols. Death felt even closer when 82 APF personnel were killed in Shamsherganj in Banke, the same place where my elder brother was stationed. This terrified my mother who would tearfully insist that we quit the police. I had just completed my training and was not enjoying this new stint. My brother, however, was too attached to the job and could not quit despite the danger. He did advise me to resign so our mother would not worry. I joined an undergraduate course, but as family responsibilities took over I decided to travel to the UAE for work as a security guard. It would be my home for the next 12 years. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/diaspora-diaries/the-return-of-a-master-baker">The return of a master baker</a>, Raju Pakhrin  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023043011040_1f6abac0cf5ecca7a3746895ed03f7ee736a3baa1904218d74ba6164a32b60c1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2023043011040_1f6abac0cf5ecca7a3746895ed03f7ee736a3baa1904218d74ba6164a32b60c1" data-rendition-name="original" width="2250" height="1688" loading="lazy" alt="DD 30"> </figure>  It was a higher salary that brought me to the UAE. But soon enough, I realised it offered a lot more than just economic stability. As I often tell my friends, if you have gone to the UAE, you have travelled the world because you meet people there from all over. I remember exchanging a few words with a New Zealander who had paid AED21,000 ($520) for a ticket at a VIP booth at a Formula 1 race where I was stationed as a guard. I was shocked at the ticket rate, but was pleased with myself that I was getting paid to watch the same race while at work.&nbsp; I have been stationed at other high-profile places: guarding Burj Khalifa, the world's tallest building, which I had previously only read about. During New Year, I got to see great extravaganzas while on guard duty. I was focused on crowd management and ensuring people were safe, of course, but I also got to witness many historic events. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/for-better-or-verse-in-the-gulf">For better or verse in the Gulf</a>, Dalbir Singh Baraili These are neither desires nor expectations that people from simple backgrounds like me have. I was there just to earn, but I also got to learn. I gained exposure to what the world has to offer, even though I was just a poor guy in a guard uniform. I now know that no matter what corner of the world you throw me in, I will adjust and make a decent life for myself. But I also know not everyone is as lucky in the Gulf. I landed a good employer and made up to $900 every month as my security company got contracts with the best employers. But others in my position have it much more difficult. My biggest fear was losing the job that I had, and this kept me on my toes at all times. Neither my family nor I could afford to lose the job and salary, and at my company, even a small mistake could be costly. I had bought shares in a transportation company back in Nepal. My research showed that it was a promising firm that was going to break the syndicate in the country. After leaving the UAE, I joined the company as an operations manager but soon realised the job was not for me. I was used to order, rules and working within a system, but in Kathmandu, I found it difficult to adjust to the chaos. So I quit and sold my shares for a loss from my hard earned savings. It was literally down to my पसिनाको पैसा (savings from my sweat). Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/diaspora-diaries/adventures-of-a-nepali-coffee-aficionado">Adventures of a Nepali coffee aficionado</a>, Laxmi Prasad Timilsina  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023043011040_98e807ba422eae80da53a7580dec869ddf1861913175c79cab3572d6ff516ade.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2023043011040_98e807ba422eae80da53a7580dec869ddf1861913175c79cab3572d6ff516ade" data-rendition-name="original" width="2126" height="1522" loading="lazy" alt="DD 30"> </figure>  Back home in Chitwan, I could not stay idle for long, and I could not bear the thought of going overseas for work again either. After 12 years away, I treasured the time with my family. A little bit of research taught me that there is potential in cleaning products so I took two short-term training sessions on how to make them.&nbsp; I started a small production and supply outfit in Chitwan. YouTube is also a good place to learn for someone like me without a good background in business. For a new company that started after Covid-19, we are doing pretty well financially, selling cleaning products for toilets, marble and glass, as well as hand liquid soap. We have 21 clients including hostels, hotels and resorts and often struggle to keep up with the rising demand. &nbsp;&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/diaspora-diaries/adventures-of-a-nepali-coffee-aficionado">Adventures of a Nepali coffee aficionado</a>, Laxmi Prasad Timilsina I have plans to expand my company. It would be good if the government provided some support to us returnees, especially business grants or soft loans, keen on doing something in Nepal itself.&nbsp; We contributed so much to our economy during our years abroad, working silently in the desert heat, away from family and sending home money every month for over a decade. But we arrive here, and even though it is home, spend years struggling to find a footing in an environment that feels entirely new after many years away. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/baking-as-a-metaphor-for-life/">Baking as a metaphor for life</a>, Aliza Basnet Translated from an interview with the author. Diaspora Diaries 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 editors@nepalitimes.com with 'Diaspora Diaries' in the subject line.

“I went to earn and learn”

This is the 29th instalment of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/diaspora-diaries">Diaspora Diaries</a>, a regular series in Nepali Times with stories of Nepalis living and working abroad. The last time I counted, I had done 23 odd jobs by the time I was 22. From teaching computer classes to running a digital photo studio, to even performing in a dance bar, I had done it all. But nothing stuck. I discontinued my undergraduate in humanities because I did not find it practically useful. On the advice of the principal of the school I was teaching in, I applied for a job in Afghanistan via an individual broker who had also sent his son there. After the series of failures I had faced in Nepal, going overseas felt like the only remaining option. After paying 3.5 lakhs for a visit visa, I was en route to Afghanistan in 2010 via UAE. Or so I thought. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/diaspora-diaries/the-return-of-a-master-baker">The return of a master baker</a>, Raju Pakhrin I was instead transported to an abandoned house in Ras Al-Khaimah. There were about 60 people like me crammed in that windowless house who were sold the Afghan dream. A few had failed in previous attempts to travel to Afghanistan but were determined because the agent was good at exploiting their desperation. There were no pillows or blankets in the rooms, just thin mattresses. From day 1, I knew I was in trouble. A sinking feeling of hopelessness tugged at my heart. We tried at least to make our situation bearable, and some of us used whatever money we had to cook our own food. It helped us to kill time. On the 20th day, a foreigner finally came to interview us. I was selected but instead of Afghanistan, he wanted to send me to Iraq. I declined. I complained loudly to my agent, and he reluctantly allowed me to leave the house. I used that opportunity to go to an internet café to print resumes which I passed on to Nepalis that I met along the way. I helped my friends do the same. A Nepali security guard came through and 14 of us were invited for interviews at a hotel opening. On the 26th day in the UAE at the interview venue, we finally got to eat good food for the first time. Seven of us passed the interview. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/diaspora-diaries/adventures-of-a-nepali-coffee-aficionado">Adventures of a Nepali coffee aficionado</a>, Laxmi Prasad Timilsina The agent tried to prevent us from taking the job by holding onto our passports and, later, from repaying our recruitment fees, claiming credit for our job placement. I was not having any of that, so I returned to Nepal and took back every paisa I had paid the agent. After two months, our new employer sent us our work visas and we went to the UAE again to work as a housekeeper in a hotel. I did not understand the concept of dignity of work, and hid from my family how I was making beds in a hotel for a living. As a former teacher, I did not want them to see me as a failure and pressure me to return home. The hotel allowed us to cross train, and I tried out the engineering department where the Sri Lankan supervisor was impressed with how I answered his technical questions and completed his construction related tasks. As a grandson of a carpenter and mason, I grew up with construction tools and had picked up skills. Every day, I would do housekeeping for 9 hours, and spend another 5 to 6 hours in the engineering department. My passion for what I was doing fuelled me despite the long hours. That sense of belonging had been missing when I was a teacher, a housekeeper, a pastry maker and even a dancer. I started applying for jobs at other hotels and got a call from the Marriott in Qatar and got a job in the MRT (Make Ready Team), a standby for all types of maintenance work. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/a-mothers-sons">A mother's sons</a>, Bishnumaya Bhusal  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230428200412_c5e817f43c9230433de917afbb19cf907e50c956f565562fc10a7b6a3f0b3ed3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20230428200412_c5e817f43c9230433de917afbb19cf907e50c956f565562fc10a7b6a3f0b3ed3" data-rendition-name="original" width="1750" height="2333" loading="lazy" alt="DD 29"> </figure>  I worked extremely hard at various Marriott locations and received Best Employee of the Month awards regularly. I even got a Spirit to Serve award signed by Bill Marriott himself. Later I would find out that a German long-stay guest in one of the Marriott apartments had sent a glowing reference about me to headquarters as I helped with maintenance work in the couples’ apartment. She was short-tempered with a record of formally complaining about other Marriott staff including the GM himself, so it was quite flattering that the couple was impressed with me. After spending four years in Qatar, I again transferred back to the UAE where I worked as a senior technician at a Marriott there. When Covid-19 hit, my life priorities changed. The virus demonstrated the fragility of our lives, and I just wanted to be with my wife and daughter. My managers did their best to keep me back, even offering to let me take a six-month leave. But I just wanted to come home, as being away for 11 years was too long. With travel restrictions, coming home was not as easy, and it was a while before my name was finally in the Nepal Embassy’s list of people eligible to travel. My insistence to return home could also have been driven by my confidence about job prospects, especially in maintenance and repairs in new hotels. I had a niche to fill.&nbsp; Today, my company in Kathmandu Complete House Repair and Maintenance Solutions provides a one-stop service for all kinds of maintenance and repair services including plumbing, painting and electricians. Clients do not have to rely on different individuals or companies for different construction services or to manage schedules. Word of mouth has worked well for me, and my customers include Marriott, Hotel Dragon and Palisade. Good work can take you far as we can rely on happy clients to bring us more business. This is an important lesson I learnt from the Marriott culture that is serving me well now. I also took a Building Electrician test (Level 2) and taught a practical electrical course at Bageshwori College. Frustrated with how youth are underrepresented in politics, I am also now an elected member of the Suryabinayak Municipality. My business is going well, but it is difficult to build a professional team in Nepal that cares about the basics, like punctuality, dedication, safety wear, and feels a sense of responsibility about finishing work in a timely manner as we commit to our clients. I find it especially surprising because the same Nepalis in Qatar or UAE that I worked with are recognised and valued for our work ethics. The wage difference, I am sure, is a factor to drive motivation, but so is the overall work culture in shaping work ethics. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/baking-as-a-metaphor-for-life/">Baking as a metaphor for life</a>, Aliza Basnet  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230430130448_2cbe2e73d61dbb95e731ab6dc2d6e0c4cb94b8c14fb8685d0ffcf189fb74c067.png" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20230430130448_2cbe2e73d61dbb95e731ab6dc2d6e0c4cb94b8c14fb8685d0ffcf189fb74c067" data-rendition-name="original" width="1750" height="1309" loading="lazy" alt="DD 29"> </figure>  I have come a long way from the first time I entered the UAE in 2010 as a victim of fraud. Today, I am in a much better position, with knowledge and finances that are serving me well in Nepal. Reflecting on my journey makes me emotional. The friends that I am in touch with from the crammed building in the UAE are also doing well for themselves. One is in the UAE working in the kitchen of a Sheikh’s family. Another works in a hotel in the Maldives. And the third who worked in the laundry department runs a tailoring store back in Nepal. I have not forgotten them, and our deeply disappointing start 13 years ago as migrant workers hoping to get into Afghanistan. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/prisoners-of-the-green-passport/"> Prisoners of the Green Passport</a>, Mahendra Thulung Rai Translated from an interview with the author. Diaspora Diaries 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">editors@nepalitimes.com</a> with 'Diaspora Diaries' in the subject line.

Migrant worker returns to create work at home

Nepal’s only international aviation gateway, at Kathmandu airport, will cut night-time operation hours to allow construction of taxiways, and airlines have been told to curtail flights. This is expected to lead to more than normal chaos during the height of peak autumn and spring tourist seasons at an airport that is congested even at the best of times. The airport will close from 10PM to 8AM from 8 November-31 March 2025. The taxiways will now connect to the thresholds at both ends of the runway, making the airport more efficient in handling higher frequencies of landings and takeoffs. The parallel taxiway extension will allow international flights to land every 4 minutes instead of the current every 7 minutes. At present planes have to wait to land until a plane taking off backtracks along the runway.&nbsp; Kathmandu is Nepal’s only airport with international operations, and it has only one runway that is only one way in from the south over the mountains. With the taxiway improvement, the airport will be able to handle 42 aircraft landings and takeoffs per hour — double the current capacity.&nbsp; The Civil Aviation Authority of Nepal (CAAN) has been trying to entice international airlines to also start flying to and from the other two international airports at Pokhara and Bhairawa (Lumbini) by slashing landing and handling charges. But so far only Nepal Airlines operates a weekly flight to Bhairawa from Kuala Lumpur.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241018161016_046569e53d1d66cd445cc66c697c0ef724810aec9f54bdf827481e3cd6b80c32.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20241018161016_046569e53d1d66cd445cc66c697c0ef724810aec9f54bdf827481e3cd6b80c32" data-rendition-name="original" width="2356" height="1134" loading="lazy" alt="Kathmandu airport expansion"> <figcaption>Kathmandu Airport Expansion plan with extension of taxiways to the thresholds of runways 02 and 20 that will limit airport operations from 8 November 2024 - 31 March 2025. Areas in blue are existing structures, including the international terminal which in future will be the domestic airport, and the new international terminal near the north end of the runway,</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241018121028_6e17cc2ee87c1b02d78cb54905825b7aa15299b7a00f5eddb01a59579ab85c1a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20241018121028_6e17cc2ee87c1b02d78cb54905825b7aa15299b7a00f5eddb01a59579ab85c1a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1353" height="1328" loading="lazy" alt="Kathmandu airport NT"> </figure>  CAAN has reportedly told international airlines to cut their flight frequency to Kathmandu citing the shorter operation hours and has told budget airlines to shift some of their flights to Pokhara or Bhairawa, or face cuts. Many airlines currently operate regular flights to and from Kathmandu between 10PM and 8AM: Air Arabia to Sharjah, Fly Dubai to Dubai, Jazeera Airways to Kuwait, Cathay Pacific to Hong Kong, Singapore Airlines, several Nepal Airlines flights, and one of four daily flights by Qatar Airways to Doha. Jazeera Airways, FlyDubai, and Thai AirAsia have applied and got permission from CAAN to begin regular flights to Bhairawa’s Gautam Buddha International Airport. Starting 9 November, FlyDubai will start making a stopover in Bhairawa before flying on to Kathmandu. Immigration, customs and security are all fully functional in Bhairawa. In Kathmandu, the next phase of the airport upgrade includes converting the current international terminal for domestic operations, the construction of a new international terminal where the domestic departure area is now, as well as moving the hangars and the Nepal Army Air Wing to the eastern side of the runway. The apron area will also double its parking space for widebody jets. This is part of a Airport Capacity Enhancement Project that was initially funded through a $80 million loan from the Asian Development Bank (ADB), and the entire masterplan is expected to cost $800 million. This project is the latest upgrade to Nepal’s only international airport since it saw its first flight in 1949. The current international and domestic terminals are too small to handle the current annual traffic volume of 8.5 million passengers a year that is growing at 20% a year.

Kathmandu airport to cut flight hours

As Kathmandu becomes more congested and polluted, and with remote online work becoming the norm, many professional Nepalis are planning to retire in Pokhara, or move there.&nbsp; With its stunning mountain panorama, balmy winters and proximity to a profusion of wilderness areas, builders are responding to this demand with new townhouses, housing development and apartments. One such block of flats is the 10-storey <a href="https://sungavaapartment.com/">Sungava Apartment</a> located at Phulbari above the Seti River, near the point where it flows into and under Pokhara. The imposing structure near Manipal Hospital is almost complete, and on a recent visit the site was strewn with huge boulders unearthed while digging the foundation.&nbsp; The Seti brought down these boulders during a gigantic flood that geologists estimate happened 800 years ago when a chunk of Annapurna IV broke off and ploughed into the glacier below. Today, Sungava (means ‘orchid’) sits safely on a high terrace, 100m above the blue-green Seti and commands a view of Dhaulagiri, Annapurna South, Machapuchre, Annapurna III and IV.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024102411104_5f8fc736c86ea3c08d7bef43bb727081d3cc1a2caa55ae2b441717e6044de7e9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024102411104_5f8fc736c86ea3c08d7bef43bb727081d3cc1a2caa55ae2b441717e6044de7e9" data-rendition-name="original" width="2016" height="1512" loading="lazy" alt="High living below the Himalaya NT"> </figure>  The soil here is conglomerate that has solidified like concrete, and the boulders were extracted by heavy earthmovers. It is intriguing to think that these metamorphic rocks as big as cars, rounded by glacial grinding, were once a part of a much higher Annapurna IV. Even for those with little interest in geology, Sungava is an ideal place to contemplate the tectonic forces that pushed these peaks into the sky to be sculpted into delicate shapes by wind, snow, earthquake and avalanche over millions of years. The view of the Himalayan panorama from Sungava’s many balconies are breathtaking when not obscured by clouds, or the haze that drifts in from across the southern border. On most days, just watching the towering pyramid of Machapuchre (Tamu name: कतासुँ क्लिको) play hide and seek with the clouds is mesmerising. There are rocks aplenty at Phulbari, and it is probably the flowers that grew along the flat terraces e that gave the place its flowery name. The boulders will hopefully be turned into a rock garden while landscaping. An nearby restaurant complex is making the best use of the stones in its design, using flat rocks as outdoor benches and tables. Sungava was designed by the husband-wife architect team of Deepak Sherchan and Jyoti Joshi of <a href="https://thedarkmermaidamarbshrestha.blogspot.com/2013/12/creative-builders-collaborative-cbc.html">Creative Builders Collaborative (CBC)</a>, which also built Heritage Plaza, Indreni Apartment and numerous other projects in Nepal. Sadbhavana retains CBC’s trademark Newari-style masonry and here it borrows from the orange brickwork of the old town of Pokhara, integrating it with modern design elements. A few of those heritage houses are still standing in Ganesh Tole and Ram Krishna Tole in Pokhara’s old quarter.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024102411108_5eb64a4885961b6d30781cefeb1e8a313da313ac5227c7a66b60f0c7d48d6fab.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2024102411108_5eb64a4885961b6d30781cefeb1e8a313da313ac5227c7a66b60f0c7d48d6fab" data-rendition-name="original" width="1362" height="595" loading="lazy" alt="High living below the Himalaya NT"> </figure>  About 400m from the apartment past a bend on the river, and down below three tiers of terraces in the canyon is a suspension bridge. Below it, the Seti is still swollen with post-monsoon flow as it tumbles away in a hurry to head down south.&nbsp; Back at the apartment, it is quiet, far away from the hubbub of Lakeside a 15 minute drive away, and in the lap of greenery. There are 52 units at Sungava and it already has a close-knit prospective community of professionals, including doctors, publishers, engineers, and businesspeople from the renewable energy and IT sectors.&nbsp; Some residents say they opted for a second home in Pokhara to make it a ‘base camp’ to explore the Annapurnas with its many hiking trails made newly accessible with new roads. With the NRN citizenship law, overseas Nepalis can now also buy the flats. &nbsp; The floor plans include options for north and south-facing 3-bedroom apartments with verandas, and the facility has underground parking has EV charging, heated pool, sauna and gym. There are still some unsold apartments with panoramic views of the mountains and one can imagine oneself at the kitchen with its huge window, humming a ditty while preparing breakfast: “खाना पकाउँ हिमाल हेरेर...”

High living below the Himalaya

When the United Nations held its Summit of the Future at its headquarters in New York in September, many world leaders, including Nepal’s Prime Minister K P Oli, highlighted the effect of climate breakdown in increasing the frequency and intensity of natural disasters. What did not get as much attention was the long term impact of the climate crisis on food production. In fact, heat stress, weather extremes and the consequences on rain-fed agriculture is already being felt worldwide, undermining the chances of the <a href="https://unstats.un.org/sdgs/">UN’s Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs)</a> being met by 2030.&nbsp; The SDG’s 17 targets commit countries like Nepal to reduce poverty and inequality, end malnutrition, protect the natural environment, and ensure that citizens all enjoy health, justice and prosperity without leaving anyone behind.&nbsp; However, besides the impact of climate breakdown on agricultural production, in Nepal the area under cultivation is impacted by urban expansion, falling productivity and the need for expensive inputs like fertiliser and pesticides.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241019041052_626413c5baf4dae407ac9579231b41daeb51510aa636b75aeb7489d94cca6a62.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20241019041052_626413c5baf4dae407ac9579231b41daeb51510aa636b75aeb7489d94cca6a62" data-rendition-name="original" width="999" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="urban agriculture in Kathmandu"> <figcaption>Kathmandu's urban sprawl is eating into its fertile cultivable lands. Photo: TAYLOR MASON</figcaption> </figure>  Now, a new study led by Nepali researcher Prajal Pradhan at the University of Groningen in The Netherlands looks at how urban agriculture may offer a solution to falling food production and meeting SDG targets. The researchers evaluated 1,450 publications exploring the contributions of urban agriculture with both positive and negative effects, and published their findings in the journal Cells Report Sustainability. Urban agriculture can help achieve 17 SDGs, positively influencing 81 targets. However, it could also undermine 51 goals.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-vanishing-land">The vanishing land</a>, Taylor Mason “Urban agriculture offers immense potential for sustainable development, but realising this potential depends crucially on adopting practices that minimise its adverse effects while maximising its benefits,” Pradhan explains. Urban agriculture can substantially enhance urban food security, provide employment to the urban poor, serve as ground water recharge in built-up areas, and preserve open spaces that can serve as safe havens during disasters like earthquakes. However, it also presents problems like the potential health risks from contamination and the need for expensive inputs. &nbsp; “Urban agriculture plays a definitive role in advancing the SDGs, but achieving this requires tailored, context-specific solutions that address the unique challenges of different regions,” says Yuanchao Hu of Wuhan University in China and who is a researcher at the Potsdam Institute for Climate Impact Research. “But it needs equitable access and rigorous management of environmental risks.”&nbsp; Rapid urbanisation is eating into Nepal’s most fertile agricultural land, which means farming in remaining open spaces inside cities can be a viable alternative, especially as food prices rise.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241019041052_7b7c9413086226fbdc630d45acf772cfa1ced77a8970b9056ec5ec7e5226fdf8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20241019041052_7b7c9413086226fbdc630d45acf772cfa1ced77a8970b9056ec5ec7e5226fdf8" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="999" loading="lazy" alt="urban agriculture in Kathmandu"> <figcaption>A vegetable patch in between new houses in Thimi. Photo: TAYLOR MASON</figcaption> </figure>  “The conversion of Nepal’s most fertile land into cities is a severe problem,” Pradhan told Nepali Times. “Crop cultivation, horticulture, agroforestry, beekeeping, livestock rearing, or aquaculture can all be farming activities within and around cities.”&nbsp; The study makes recommendations for sustainable practices that build on the positive aspects of urban agriculture while mitigating the downsides, thereby promoting more resilient cities in future. Research shows that urban agriculture has been helping many countries attain SDG targets by enhancing food security and biodiversity while helping education and preservation of open spaces.&nbsp; Indeed, many farmers from the hinterland who have settled in Kathmandu Valley or other urban areas of the country have been practicing urban agriculture, leasing neighbourhood patches or cultivating roof gardens both out of necessity because of inflation and falling income to grow their own food, and also as a fulfilling hobby. Saurav Dhakal, a sustainability advocate with Story Cycle and now research fellow at the Asian Institute of Technology in Thailand, says there are socio-economic and environmental benefits of urban agriculture. “It provides benefits to all urban dwellers, regardless of their income status,” says Dhakal, “families get fresh food, and there are many other benefits like water retention, heat regulation and biodiversity. These are all public goods, so special government incentives may be needed.” It is not unusual to see vegetable patches and even paddy fields within inner city Kathmandu where an older generation of farmers are using available fertile land and <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/rooftop-gardens-kathmandu,1415">roof gardens to produce fresh, nutritious food </a>to reduce their dependence on food items that have to be bought after being trucked in from large distances.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024101905100_1291ce98dbbb8caed8702ac4b1d469b3e13016d7ecaaf3bfd5f91c974d3c0c77.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2024101905100_1291ce98dbbb8caed8702ac4b1d469b3e13016d7ecaaf3bfd5f91c974d3c0c77" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="999" loading="lazy" alt="urban agriculture in Kathmandu"> <figcaption>An older generation of farmers are using any available fertile land to continue farming but it is getting more and more difficult. Photo: TAYLOR MASON </figcaption> </figure>  Nepal’s urban population grew rapidly from only 3.6% in 1991 to 25% today. There is large outmigration from the mountains to peri-urban areas of the Tarai, to Kathmandu Valley and Pokhara, with many young men then moving abroad for work. Kathmandu Valley’s population has swelled to nearly 3 million, and is growing at 6.5% a year. Dilip Shrestha, 71, used to work for Nepal Food Corporation, so he knew firsthand about inflation, shortages and vegetables with pesticide residue. So, when he designed his new house in Kathmandu, he built a spacious roof where he grows cucumber, ginger, garlic, coriander, onions, tomatoes, chili, beans, okra, pumpkin and lettuce. His family eats healthier, and he has reduced dependence on the market.&nbsp; The co-author of the Cell Reports Sustainability journal article, Daya Raj Subedi who is a PhD candidate at Beijing Forestry University, says urban agriculture also promotes inclusion and psycho-social wellbeing.&nbsp; He says, “A crucial finding of the study is the identification of opportunities and challenges associated with urban agriculture, it can promote sustainable transformation of society.” In Banepa, 55-year-old Bijaya Manandhar in her lifetime has watched the fertile farms of her neighbourhood that used to supply vegetables to Kathmandu, now completely built up with no open space left. The pandemic lockdown prompted her to turn to the family’s <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/rooftop-agriculture-on-the-roof-of-the-world">ancestral livelihood by growing food</a> not on terrace farms, but on the roof terrace. Manandhar is now a part of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/rooftop-agriculture-on-the-roof-of-the-world%5C%5C">कौसी खेती र करेसाबारी क्रान्ती</a> (Rooftop Farming and Garden Revolution) which has an online membership of 52,000, and awards annual prizes to women who excel in urban agriculture.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241019041052_7257f5def8f823f35a799fa6f6825e153f2ffa406ac11325d4fe74049b79e96d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20241019041052_7257f5def8f823f35a799fa6f6825e153f2ffa406ac11325d4fe74049b79e96d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="736" loading="lazy" alt="urban agriculture in Kathmandu"> <figcaption>Rooftop farming is gaining popularity as a form of urban agriculture. </figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241019041052_beff1a4494ce896dd8fd383ee1f518e5448bcf7ea8bb138255391c7bcb9769ed.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20241019041052_beff1a4494ce896dd8fd383ee1f518e5448bcf7ea8bb138255391c7bcb9769ed" data-rendition-name="original" width="4000" height="3000" loading="lazy" alt="urban agriculture in Kathmandu"> </figure>  Pradhan says the challenge now is to upscale such examples of successful urban agricultural practices so they support Neal’s efforts to meet SDG targets. He adds, “Crop cultivation around cities can be protected by land use plans and regulations. Promoting community-based agriculture, including rooftop gardens, requires community engagement and public-private partnerships across the food value chain.”&nbsp; Such support would accelerate the popularity of existing rooftop farming and community gardens in Kathmandu Valley, or kitchen garden initiatives in Pokhara, and building on traditional farming practices that are preserved and integrated into urban settings like in Bhaktapur and Banepa. In Lalitpur, the Women Entrepreneurship Facilitation Center promotes urban farming enhancing both sustainability and empowerment.&nbsp; Another co-author of the report, Yuanchao Hu from China says followup research of the team will aim to identify good practices in local urban agriculture practices. He adds, “There are examples of urban agriculture that optimise sustainability, ensuring that it remains a viable solution for cities globally while countries try to meet SDG targets.” Prajal Pradhan, Daya Raj Subedi, Kshitij Dahal, Yuanchao Hu, Prakriti Gurung, Sijal Pokharel, Sagar Kafle, Biplav Khatri, Sudeeksha Basyal, Monika Gurung, and Aruna Joshi. Urban Agriculture matters for sustainable development. Cell Reports Sustainability, 1:100217, 2024. [DOI: 10.1016/j.crsus.2024.100217] Prajal Pradhan (<a href="mailto:p.pradhan@rug.nl">p.pradhan@rug.nl</a>) This article is brought to you by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/" target="_blank">Nepali Times</a>, in collaboration with <a href="https://inpsjapan.com/en/" target="_blank">INPS Japan</a> and <a href="https://sgi-peace.org/" target="_blank">Soka Gakkai International</a>, in consultative status with UN ECOSOC.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240630110640_30c3782f9c09219bf1c249b51483a3cfb7a53a06d117d2aebd23ca7080d12758.jpg" data-media-id="editor_14" data-image-id="20240630110640_30c3782f9c09219bf1c249b51483a3cfb7a53a06d117d2aebd23ca7080d12758" data-rendition-name="original" width="680" height="103" loading="lazy" alt="SDG logo"> </figure>

Back to the land in the cities

The 700-year-old Lakshmi Narasingha temple in Bhaktapur houses a rare half-lion and half-human incarnation of Lord Vishnu carrying the Goddess Lakshmi. The temple was destroyed in the 1934 mega earthquake that killed 10,000 people and destroyed many monuments in Kathmandu Valley. It was rebuilt by a German project in the 1980s, but as a single-storey structure instead of its original two-tier pagoda design.&nbsp; With new findings from in-depth research, Bhaktapur municipality began re-restoring the temple in 2021, preserving its original architecture.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241017131016_2fae38cce543ad7b1f6de632feb3e212e08ed1acedd747830e949d7b8e878f18.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20241017131016_2fae38cce543ad7b1f6de632feb3e212e08ed1acedd747830e949d7b8e878f18" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="In with the old in Nepal NT"> </figure>  “Our temples and heritage sites hold deep meaning. It is disheartening to witness how often they lose their original elements, whether by design or accident,” explains Kumar Chawal of the Consumer Committee of Bhaktapur. “There is a need to preserve our architecture and protect its historical value for future generations. Otherwise, we risk losing a vital part of our identity.” The Laksmi Narsingha restoration is similar to the Bhai Dega temple in Patan Darbar Square which also collapsed in 1934, but was rebuilt with a Moghul-style dome by the Rana government at the time. Only two months before the 2015 earthquake, heritage conservationists had started to rebuild Bhai Dega as the original three-tier based on early photographs. But priorities shifted when four other temples in the square were brought down by the 7.8M earthquake on 25 April 2015.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241017131016_697ea707d9ad163be5de5f2efbf5b70d3cab771adcc22f0fae6bf937c6cb0130.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20241017131016_697ea707d9ad163be5de5f2efbf5b70d3cab771adcc22f0fae6bf937c6cb0130" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="In with the old in Nepal NT"> </figure>  This showed how damage to monuments in Kathmandu Valley spanned from one earthquake to the next. Bhai Dega restoration remains half-complete to this day because money for its restoration ran out.&nbsp; Whereas Bhai Dega restoration was done by the Kathmandu Valley Preservation Trust with grants from western embassies and international foundations, in Bhaktapur it is the municipality itself that allocated the Rs30.7 million needed to restore the Lakshmi Narasingha temple. The expected date of completion is early 2025. The municipality and local communities are focusing on two main aspects: preserving the past and promoting localisation. The restoration team has designed a blueprint for the temple by using historical photographs and insights from older generations.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241017131016_182882fdc393c99e70d1d0490319e415229563666c4934e3a582426ebf00ca30.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20241017131016_182882fdc393c99e70d1d0490319e415229563666c4934e3a582426ebf00ca30" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="560" loading="lazy" alt="In with the old in Nepal NT"> </figure>  “At first, the Lakshmi Narasingha temple had only one entrance, but during the demolition process, we uncovered the foundations of four doors. Now, we are restoring all of them. This is an example of how our ancient structures have changed over time, often without our knowledge,” says Chawal. “Constructing temples is not like building houses. They carry historical and spiritual values, which is why they hold a special place in our hearts,” he adds. By replicating ancient design elements and rebuilding the temple as accurately as possible to its original form, the team has stayed true to Bhaktapur’s soul. But the restoration also revived ancient techniques that were in danger of being forgotten, generating employment for woodcarvers, masons, and contractors. The community of Bhaktapur’s Gahiti neighbourhood near the famous Nyatapola Temple has also set aside specific days for locals to volunteer in the reconstruction work. This has encouraged young people to take pride in ownership of their heritage. Families have also supported the effort by donating funds for bells, the temple pinnacle, and other structural features to the temple.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241017131016_db850ec0c084cdbe54f65bee92dad2ad8122d20fd60ec87ec086fbb9d2f72bd6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20241017131016_db850ec0c084cdbe54f65bee92dad2ad8122d20fd60ec87ec086fbb9d2f72bd6" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="In with the old in Nepal NT"> </figure>  “I feel at peace knowing I have contributed my sweat to restoring this temple,” said one volunteer. “It is our duty to preserve our temples and heritage. The Nyatapola area will look magical once this temple is completed.” Community mobilisation is a long-standing tradition in Bhaktapur. In the past, locals have actively participated in the restoration of other temples in the city, such as Bhairav and Nyatapola fostering a strong sense of ownership. This collective engagement has not only been crucial in preserving the city's historical monuments but also in strengthening the bond between local communities and their heritage, says officials at the municipality. While securing funding is essential, and the municipality showed it values heritage conservation, the Lakshmi Narasingha restoration is proof that active involvement and sense of responsibility of the local community is as important, if not more. Local involvement also means that the monuments will be cared for into the future, When locals take ownership of these efforts, the restored monuments are not only protected in the present but are also cared for in the future.

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