<a href="https://www.ranjanadiga.com/">Ranjan Adiga</a>’s debut short story collection, <a href="https://www.penguin.co.in/book/leech-and-other-stories/">‘Leech and Other Stories’,</a> is a bold and honest exploration of a wide variety of modern experiences of Nepalis home and abroad. A million Nepalis leave the country every year, mostly for work, and about 90,000 to permanently resettle abroad. The ten stories in this slim volume revolve around characters who have migrated and are dealing with issue of identity in their adopted homes.&nbsp; Four of the stories involve Nepalis in the United States navigating success, divorce, cash jobs in Indian restaurants, diversity committee politics, and the Broncos. America is where Adiga himself is based currently, teaching Creative Writing and English at <a href="https://westminsteru.edu/campus-directory/directory-profiles/adiga-ranjan.html">Westminster College in North Salt Lake, Utah</a>. After publishing a <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=17263">few articles for this newspaper</a> in 2010, and a brief internship at The Kathmandu Post, he spent some well-paying years in advertising in Kathmandu and Bahrain.&nbsp; Fascinated by fiction, he did an MFA in creative writing at <a href="https://uncw.edu/">University of North Carolina Wilmington</a>, before completing a PhD at the University of Hawaiʻi at Mānoa. Observing Nepalis struggling with identity and acclimatising to American culture gave the fiction writer in Adiga plenty of plot material to work on.&nbsp; Adigais often mistaken for <a href="http://www.aravindadiga.com/">Aravind Adiga</a>, author of the Booker-prize winning author of the 2008 book, <a href="https://kenyonreview.org/kr-online-issue/2009-winter/selections/review-of-aravind-adigas-the-white-tiger/">The White Tiger</a> that was made into <a href="https://www.netflix.com/np/title/80202877">a Netflix movie</a> starring Priyanka Chopra. “When you introduce yourself in Nepal, it’s never just your first name. If I just say ‘Ranjan,’ the next question is automatically ‘Ranjan ke?” Adiga tells us during a recent visit to Nepali Times. “People are often intrigued, and some harbour preconceptions about who I am.”&nbsp; And if it is not being mistaken for Aravind, it is to be taken for an Indian. But Ranjan’s pedigree is even more exotic: his grandfather was a <a href="https://www.telegraphindia.com/india/kathmandu-ripples-in-karnataka/cid/507815">high priest of Pashupati Temple</a> in Kathmandu, whose predecessors have been traditionally sourced from <a href="https://www.thehindu.com/news/national/andhra-pradesh/coastal-karnatakas-bond-with-nepal/article7144615.ece">Udupi of the Karnataka-Kerala border</a> in south India for the past 300 years. Both his parents are Nepali. Like many people who straddle multiple cultures, Adiga does not feel completely accepted in either place. In fact, the uprootedness of being at home everywhere and nowhere helps him in his writing, and that is also reflected in many of the characters in his stories.&nbsp; They too feel alienated in new cultures with various values and different requirements for getting by: whether a Madhesi in Kathmandu, a newly-Christian Dalit woman, or a homocurious uncle. One of the ten stories is titled Leech, and seems to be inspired by the experience of author and former American Peace Corps volunteer Broughton Coburn, whom <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=11933">Nepali Times profiled in 2006</a>. Says Adiga: “A lot of my characters feel like parasites in the system, they feel alienated in the places they find themselves, often facing dilemmas between morality and survival.” Indeed, the protagonists in Adiga’s stories are mostly morally ambiguous. They may steal, lie, cheat and drink, but ultimately own up to their mistakes. “Most of my stories tell themselves as I write. It’s a process of discovery, of observing what the characters do and how they interact,” Adiga explains, adding that in only one of the stories did he start with the plot completely outlined beforehand.&nbsp; That story is ‘Student Visa’ about a Nepali youngster named Sanjay on whom his parents have great expectations: he will go to America and eventually bring Mom and Dad, too. Sanjay completely bombs the interview but lies to his parents (and to a neighbour uncle who has a brother in the States, and is naturally an expert) that he got the visa. The author seems interested in how Nepalis deal with relationship norms abroad. Adiga writes about couples in the US where the wife has a ‘better’ job and earns more than the husband, and a visiting father of a divorced son who looks past all of his successes in tech and only talks to him about his failed marriage. This is a story titled ‘A Short Visit’and has a strong plot with real writing. Nirmal is the son who works in tech and has a fancy house and a Tesla. His Baba is an electrical engineer turned alcoholic. Father and son bond over alcohol as a poignant, vulnerable story unfolds. Baba is not supposed to drink at all, and when Nirmal’s sister in Nepal finds out, she berates Nirmal. Brother and sister also have an interesting dynamic. Nirmal is rich and divorced in Denver, while Binita lives in Nepal with a stable joint family and children. The question looms: who has made the bigger sacrifice?As the booze flows, son and father process their different understandings of the divorce, get into arguments, and head to a party where Baba gets on stage and tells the crowd that he loves his son. “That was the story that I had to write quickly, as a replacement for one that fell through,” Adiga explains. “I wrote it in about three weeks, while usually take several months on each one.”&nbsp; Adiga’s stories are observant, uncomfortable and true. Like when he talks about Nirmal texting his ex-wife occasionally and liking each other’s photos on Instagram. Or when he writes: ‘Baba looked like someone’s driver at a wedding in Nepal, cowering in a corner, scrounging on leftovers.’ In ‘A Haircut and a Massage’ a middle-aged man named Krishna is in a sad sexless marriage and teeters on the edge of homosexuality. When his wife sends him out to buy veggies, he starts frequenting Iqbal’s salon for full body massage. Krishna’s marriage had started out well but deteriorated after his wife had their first child. Most of Adiga’s stories feature strong, pragmatic female characters who are in charge, with weaker and often embarrassing male counterparts. Adiga writes bravely about issues that we usually skirt around. ‘High Heels’ looks at a Dalit woman who converts to Christianity and works at a bank, doing better than if she did what her caste identity dictated. <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/sermon-on-the-mountain,3911">Prosletysation may have its problems</a>, but the Church treats her as an equal.&nbsp; The story ‘Diversity Committee’ is about the tension between a professor and his white female student after he follows an awkward hug with an iffy text. Soon there is rumour spreading around school that the prof has a staring problem. The student has heavily bought into diversity brainwashing and is a star student, and now does not know what to do that her Professor-Of-Colour has hugged her and stroked her back. Meanwhile an interesting interaction is taking place between the Nepali professor and a Black lesbian professor in the same department. They are good friends in lily-white rural Idaho, but also compete for leadership and inclusion grants from the diversity committee. Adiga admits that one his inspirations is fellow-Nepali writer in America, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/writing-about-nepal-from-afar">Samrat Upadhyay</a> (<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=4483">The Guru of Love</a>, <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=9235">Arresting God in Kathmandu</a>, <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Kathmandu-wont-let-go-of-me-samrat-upadhyay,3649">Mad Country</a>) who is also a Kathmandu St Xavierite. The short, clipped sentences, sparse prose and simple plot lines involving Nepalis are indeed vintage Samrat. And like Subcontinental authors who write in English, Adiga also grapples with making the vernacular dialogue sound authentic. The stories are set where the author lives and works, and it is about fictional fellow-Nepalis, so it is natural to wonder how autobiographical they are. Ranjan Adiga leaves us guessing.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024070411070_c4a190ab73e414a17b257fe459d8845b2615b9dbcd3eff06e202fafbe7f902d5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_16" data-image-id="2024070411070_c4a190ab73e414a17b257fe459d8845b2615b9dbcd3eff06e202fafbe7f902d5" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Leech and other stories NT"> </figure>

Vishad Raj Onta

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Feeling at home nowhere and everywhere

Theresa Rebeck’s 1992 script What We’re Up Against has been translated by Priyankar and directed by Akanchha Karki of Katha Ghera as Play द सिस्टम . The play shows a not uncommon experience of female employees in offices in Nepal.Namita is a young talented architect newly hired at a prestigious firm who is exasperated by lazy colleagues who hide their incompetence behind workplace politics.&nbsp; Played with panache by Ranjana Bhattarai, Namita is eager to work on projects, but her boss Sailesh (Eelum Dixit) is a scotch-swigging manipulative control freak who does not assign her anything because he is threatened by her competence.&nbsp; Namita is consigned to a converted storage room, while Pankaj Basyal (Rishikesh Basyal) has a much better location for his desk despite being even newer than Namita. Basyal is a sloppy grifter who makes pompous, long-winded presentations and curries favour with Sailesh by keeping the whiskey flowing.&nbsp; The office is involved in a big project to restore a mall in Lalitpur. Basyal is on the project, as is Biswas (Suraj Malla). Biswas understands what is going on behind the scenes between fellow staffers and is concerned about a piping problem that is delaying the project.&nbsp; The fifth person in the office is Chahana (Roshani Syangbo) who is not much of an architect but keeps her job by playing a ditzy simpering damsel who seconds anything the men say.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240626120620_60a615435151b3721e96bacb1bef4063596bbfc5203dc65a9c4298877f89fca0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20240626120620_60a615435151b3721e96bacb1bef4063596bbfc5203dc65a9c4298877f89fca0" data-rendition-name="original" width="5516" height="3677" loading="lazy" alt="Play the system"> </figure>  The deadline for the mall is looming and the only person with the solution is Namita. Sick of being underestimated and overlooked, she brings a design supposedly by Basyal to Sailesh, who initially okays it. But after finding out it was hers, he trashes it.&nbsp; Sailesh is incensed at Namita’s trick, and throws her out before putting Chahana on the project instead. Yet Namita is following Sailesh’s advice: to get work, you must show initiative.&nbsp; So Namita takes up a project Chahana has just about abandoned to modify a court building. Her pitch to the team is imaginative and focused on meeting the client’s demands.&nbsp; Sailesh uses his status and corporate doublespeak to dominate the meeting, and bully Namita. Humiliated, Namita confronts Chahana who sided with Sailesh in the meeting and the two have a row. Brilliantly acted, the scenes are a realistic portrayal of office hierarchy with gender politics also thrown in that gets in the way of getting work done. People want credit but do not want to work for it.&nbsp; The men cannot stand Namita because they all know she is a better architect. They describe her as difficult to work with and whiney. But they are fine with docile, unthreatening Chahana. However, she too is scared of the notion that she might soon have to play sidekick to Namita. &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240626120624_a694966f0f4ff4a53c36f81ee7b646078720234812a86a1232e6b95edcec4a86.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20240626120624_a694966f0f4ff4a53c36f81ee7b646078720234812a86a1232e6b95edcec4a86" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1431" loading="lazy" alt="Play the system"> <figcaption>Photo: TUPHAN JUNG THAPA</figcaption> </figure>  In a final act of rebellion, Namita ‘plays the system’ of egos to push a flawed design through Chahana to Sailesh, letting Chahana take credit. As Sailesh presents the imperfect plan to the firm’s founder, Biswas has found out what happened and comes to Namita’s office to talk, only to find her packing up, expecting to soon be fired. The two agree to talk about the piping problem over dinner.&nbsp; The play ends abruptly right here, leaving us guessing what happens to Namita. Bristling with swear-words, this is a tense, angry play, but has a light-hearted tone. The message seems to be that women can either be like Chahana, not getting in anyone’s way to keep her job. They will keep her, but have to squander her talent and self respect. Maybe Chahana was once competent too, but is now too jaded and resigned to her fate. Or, they can be like Namita. Confident and competent, and hence perceived as a threat. Many men do not like admitting that another man is better in their profession. But when it comes to women, their ego is hurt and they seek petty ways to get their own back.&nbsp; Sailesh refers to Namita as a “ball-crusher” (the word sounds pithier in Nepali). But if they looked around it would be clear why they are getting left behind: they drink too much, are easily flattered, and have too much time to backbite. They engage in many of the same behaviours that they may jeer at as feminine, such as gossip and hysteria.&nbsp; One scene in particular demonstrates this hypocrisy. Sailesh and Basyal are drinking in Sailesh’s office, a den of toxic masculinity. They make abusive remarks about Namita, but not once in the play do the two actually do any work.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240626120624_3349985b6341a7913c6030f1f8b5c142e39e86420ee429a3eeed2126e54e9ef2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20240626120624_3349985b6341a7913c6030f1f8b5c142e39e86420ee429a3eeed2126e54e9ef2" data-rendition-name="original" width="4166" height="2777" loading="lazy" alt="Play the system"> </figure>  Suddenly Namita invades the scene and Basyal cowers pathetically in his chair, not meeting her eye. Namita pours herself some of the whiskey (gasp) and downs it straight before threatening to go to the founder. &nbsp; While Biswas is smart enough to figure out what is going on, he does not &nbsp;have the courage to stand up to Sailesh, or ask Namita for the solution, or “do the right thing”.&nbsp; Rebeck’s script came out in 1992, and 32 years later it still transcends time and space, and is a relatable and realistic depiction of the workplace anywhere. This a universal, perennial issue, and the play can also be taken as a call to maturity in gender relations. &nbsp; The play runs smooth as it uses one big set throughout, lighting up where the action takes place. In the centre is the presentation table and to the left and right are Chahana and Namita’s offices. Overlooking everything up a staircase is Sailesh’s office. The original script is in English, and it adapts well to a sort of Nepali-English hybrid dialogue that would feel natural to the Nepali Times readership. Rebeck curses quite liberally in the original English script, but the adaptation is a bit too generously sprinkled with colloquial Nepali swear words. It certainly has shock value and brings laughs.&nbsp; Kausi Theater, Lagan Every day except Tuesday till 15 July Time: &nbsp;5:15PM, &nbsp;Matinee show on Saturdays at 1PM Front row: Rs1,000&nbsp; General tickets: Rs500 Contact: 9861078876

Hate the game, not the player

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

Turkish Basketball

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

The Everest Industry

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

Everest summiteers find new life in the US

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