Ayan Dallakoti spent his childhood in Japan, speaking Japanese and for all intents and purposes, considered himself Japanese. It was only as he grew older that he realised he was actually from Nepal. &nbsp; Ayan was eight years old when his mother Pratibha brought him and his younger brother Avan back to Nepal. Their father Anjay, who is still in Japan, had decided to send the boys home so they could “become Nepali”. Ayan was somewhat familiar with the Nepali language and the country, but in Kathmandu, everything felt foreign, including the education system. “Things were a little easier when he had a classmate who had also returned from Japan, but making Nepali friends did not come easily for them,” remembers Pratibha.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240922040928_c4a683bc4723ce1f5b5683d41add972c915ea6b6fc229a44b713c707381d8787.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20240922040928_c4a683bc4723ce1f5b5683d41add972c915ea6b6fc229a44b713c707381d8787" data-rendition-name="original" width="5856" height="3904" loading="lazy" alt="Japan-born Nepali children NT 3"> <figcaption>All photos: GOPEN RAI</figcaption> </figure>  Japan is now a major destination for Nepali families like the Dallakotis. Officially, there are 180,000 Nepalis in Japan and 35,000 more left just in the past year – a 30% increase from the year before that.&nbsp; Japanese embassy figures show that of those who left last year, 23,124 were on student visas, 8,566 were on working visas and 7,849 were dependents. While most of the older generation of Nepalis in Japan are cooks who went as ‘skilled labour’, the new crop of migrants are mostly on student visas, working part-time. For the Japanese government, a student visa is a carefully calibrated temporary migration system to fill the country’s labour shortage in the service sector. Unlike the Gulf, Korea, Malaysia and other countries, Nepalis in Japan can also take along their families. Which is why Nepali schools have sprung up in large cities in Japan. These schools teach Nepali language, culture, and also English. But for families who work far away from those cities, the children have no option but to get a Japanese education.&nbsp; Anjay Dallakoti initially went to Japan as a student, but extended his stay with a working visa. Pratibha joined him a few years later as a dependent. Ayan was born in Japan, and six years later Avan. After 12 years, Pratibha is back in Nepal with both her boys.&nbsp; In many Nepali families in Japan, it is the children who are having to adjust to being caught in between two worlds. Many have to cope with the double adjustment of first arriving in Japan, and then returning to school in Nepal. According to Masako Tanaka, a professor at Tokyo’s Sophia University, nearly 20,000 Nepalis in Japan are minors. Tanaka has been working closely with Nepali migrants in Japan, and says many mothers are bringing their children back to Nepal because of worries that they are losing touch with their identity and culture back home. The other reason is that the children are not learning enough English, and the parents fear they will lose out in later life. &nbsp; “Returning to Nepal and studying in schools here helps create an environment for the children to either stay and work in Nepal in future or go to a third country,” says Sapana Kharel, who also returned to Nepal with her two children. For Nepali families who have not yet got permanent resident status, staying on in Japan and continuing their children’s education is too uncertain. They worry that this could interrupt their children’s education if they have to leave Japan midway through school.&nbsp; “There is fear that the children will neither have a place in Nepali schools nor there in Japan,” adds Kharel. Others say that they would have returned to Nepal for the sake of the children no matter what, even if they got permanent residence in Japan. Indeed, there are Nepali mothers who are already permanent residents who have opted to return with their children.&nbsp; Take the Subedi family who have permanent resident status in Japan, but brought their daughter Shibika to Nepal after she completed Grade 1 in Japan.&nbsp; Many migrant children like Shibika had to repeat grades they had already studied in Japan. She had to repeat Grade 1, and is now in Grade 9. Her mother Nitu Bista Subedi feels that repeating a year was necessary to strengthen her daughter’s foundation in the Nepali curriculum.&nbsp; “Shibika has fond memories of Japan and misses being together with the whole family there, and she worries that her Japanese classmates are getting ahead of her,” says Subedi. Ten-year-old Ahana Odari had her own struggles when she was brought to Nepal by her mother a year ago. She too had to repeat Grade 3. “She just wouldn’t speak for the first few months because of the language problem,” remembers her mother, Balika Odari. “Ahana took a whole year to adapt and adjust to Nepal and its ways. But this was necessary.”&nbsp; Like a lot of parents, Balika feels that although Japan’s education system is one of the best in the world, children there are more reclusive and do not socialise as much. “We were worried our children would turn out the same way, and that is why we decided to bring them back and introduce them to their country and culture,” she explains. In more extreme cases, migration can hinder the psychosocial development of returning children. &nbsp; “Early-age children are good at learning dual or multiple languages, but because of the limited vocabulary they are exposed to, they might not always have words to express how they are feeling. And that is where the problem lies,” says Srijana Adhikari, a clinical psychologist at Happy Minds.&nbsp; “For healthy development, the environment the child grows up in and the needs to be stable,” she adds. “If not, this may lead to problems adjusting, separation anxiety and struggles in building relationships.” Sneha Khatri, now 14, oscillated between Nepal and Japan over the years. She was born in Japan but was brought to Nepal when she was six. She studied here until Grade 3 and then went to the Nepali-run Everest International School in Tokyo.&nbsp; Sneha came back to Nepal a month ago to appear for her Basic Level Examination (BLE) but is worried about her results. She is taking extra tutorials in mathematics.&nbsp; Ayan is now in Grade 7, and is also worried about his BLE next year. He says in Japanese-accented English: “Social Studies is my first hardest subject, and Nepali is the second hardest.”&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240922040932_3ddaf6b56253baac855f2b4de4f9a646b1c80a677cc8e9d73d469a3c37496ea7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20240922040932_3ddaf6b56253baac855f2b4de4f9a646b1c80a677cc8e9d73d469a3c37496ea7" data-rendition-name="original" width="5477" height="3651" loading="lazy" alt="Japan-born Nepali children NT 4"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240922040932_3b59646b4c1f30831b039caf8c5e9018fb0ce23349dacebfa0cbee024b4bd885.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20240922040932_3b59646b4c1f30831b039caf8c5e9018fb0ce23349dacebfa0cbee024b4bd885" data-rendition-name="original" width="5928" height="3808" loading="lazy" alt="Japan-born Nepali children NT 5"> </figure>  Speaking Nepali with family and friends is not hard for the returnee migrant children, but Nepali as an academic subject is difficult.&nbsp; Professor Tanaka says migrant children have fallen through the cracks between Japan and Nepal. She asks rhetorically, “Who will think about the welfare of the migrant children? Who is responsible for them?”&nbsp; Tanaka was in Kathmandu recently for a workshop on Nepali language education for migrant children during which she presented research findings of her Migrant Children Language Education project. Tanaka’s conclusion is that mother tongue Nepali language education is the best way to help the reintegration of children returning from Japan. “The government can start by developing Nepali language learning resources for online or home learners abroad, training teachers abroad, and organising and encouraging events for Nepali children overseas,” Tanaka told Nepali Times.&nbsp; “Nepal can learn from countries like Myanmar, Thailand, Vietnam and Brazil which are working on national language education for their migrant children in Japan.” To be sure, there are also students who are doing well despite the culture shock of moving back and forth between Japan and Nepal.&nbsp; Sapana Kharel’s daughter, Saurya was born in Japan. She came to Nepal when she was six to study in Nepal. Soon after, she went to Japan. She came back when she was 12 to appear for the Nepali BLE. She initially struggled and had low confidence, but soon overcame it and did well. “Now, I’ve realised the importance of learning my mother tongue and have taken up Nepali classes as part of my course,” says Saurya, now 17, in flawless Nepali. But for other migrant children whose parents do not speak enough Nepali when they were in Japan, mastering the mother tongue is still a big hurdle.&nbsp; Ayan’s mother looks at her two children playing at her home in Kirtipur, and says, “The sacrifice we made as a couple, living far from one another, is for our children, their education and for a better future.”&nbsp; <h2>Nepali in Nippon</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240922040928_bb476f3818df3d28240779b520cb93b2aee216f9a1023e0bbe0fccd3abbcd6f6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20240922040928_bb476f3818df3d28240779b520cb93b2aee216f9a1023e0bbe0fccd3abbcd6f6" data-rendition-name="original" width="6000" height="4000" loading="lazy" alt="Japan-born Nepali children NT "> </figure>  In June, when the SEE (Secondary Education Examination) results came out, one of the students who passed was a Zambian national student from Japan. He was studying at the Everest International School Japan (EISJ) in Tokyo which follows the Nepali curriculum, and accommodates the need of families in Nepal and other countries in Japan to also learn English. Initially started in 2013 by the Nepali community, this school came under Nepal’s Ministry of Education (MoE) in 2015. EISJ is the only school in Japan that is certified to take Nepal’s SEE in Japan.&nbsp; Other schools that follow the Nepali curriculum have also opened up, over the years. But only two of them, Tokai Batika International School in Nagoya and Himalayan International Academy in Tokyo are certified to conduct Nepali curriculum as per Nepal’s Ministry of Education. But both provide education only below Grade 10.&nbsp; “As of now, the only country to have schools that follow Nepali curriculum is Japan,” says Parshuram Tiwari, director at the Education Review Office at the MoE in Kathmandu. The majority of Nepali families and a few non-Nepali families working in Japan decide to send their children to schools like EISJ because of the English medium. But these are private international schools, unlike the Japanese government schools which are free of cost. And because these schools are not certified, the Japanese government provides no subsidy, no transportation discount among other privileges to these schools, says Professor Masako Tanaka at Sophia University in Tokyo. &nbsp;“Most importantly, graduates of EISJ cannot get visa status independently even after graduation from high school level, while the migrant students who graduate from Japanese schools are eligible.” Many Nepali families enrol their children to such schools without knowing this, adds Tanka. But even those who know about drawbacks want to provide their children with the opportunity to get international exposure with English language skills. Nepali curriculum schools are mostly based in and around Tokyo, and many Nepali families who live in the suburbs of Japan opt to come to Nepal for their children’s education. (Adjoining article) “We lived in Niigata. It would take us six hours to travel to Everest International School in Tokyo. So, we came to Nepal to give our children English medium education,” says Pratibha Dallakoti, who returned from Japan with her two sons in 2020. While schools that follow the Nepali curriculum in Japan have been a relief for Nepali parents who want their children to pursue Nepali curriculum education, these schools getting certified by the Japanese government would be better. “There are several other international schools in Japan that are certified by both Japanese and foreign dual standards like the &nbsp;Kyoto Kokusai School,” wrote Professor Tanaka in an email interview. “It is for the better that these Nepali curriculum schools like EISJ become similar to KKS which makes it easier for the children as they can get a certificate from both the government. ”

Pinki Sris Rana

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Japan-born Nepali children struggle to ‘be Nepali’

Human history is woven in stories of migration for work and livelihood. The trend continues to be a legacy for most Nepali men, who have migrated for work to India, Burma and beyond for centuries, working odd jobs, or defending other countries.   <img width="1181" height="530" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181148/636be85b9c7e80680e087853jpeg.jpg" alt=""/>The more recent phenomenon in the past two decades is the outflow of workers to the Gulf and Malaysia, who battle challenges starting from agents at home to difficult weather conditions and foreign employers. In 2018-19, the government issued 236,208 permits for overseas work, and it is estimated that at least 4 million Nepalis at any given time are working abroad. Khushiram Gurung, Sultan Tika and Ram from different regions of Nepal, have spent a large part of their lives toiling in foreign countries, while their hearts stayed back home. Now, their children are following their fathers’ footsteps in this inter-generational trend.  <figure><img width="650" height="451" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181148/636be85c9c7e80680e087854jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Khushiram Gurung has been working in Bahrain as a security guard since 2010.He was first introduced to Bahrain in 2003, when he was a 15-year-old boy in Lamjung. His father, an Indian Army returnee, was waiting to hear from a Kathmandu-based recruiter regarding a security guard job in Malaysia. But the agent came back with a possible opportunity in Bahrain instead.The family had never heard of Bahrain, but after learning that the salary would be over Rs30,000 per month, they said yes. In the next few days, Khushiram’s father arranged Rs100,000 via informal loans, and left for Bahrain. Five years later, Khushiram’s brother joined him in Bahrain. After 7 years, it was Khushiram. Having grown up without his father around, it was in Bahrain that he spent more time with him.  <figure><img width="1152" height="864" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181148/636be85e9c7e80680e087855jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>“When we were growing up and my father was away in India, we didn’t know when he would return. My siblings and I would wake up some days and he would just be sitting in the kitchen, having arrived late in the previous night.” When his father left for Bahrain, his presence became the letters that arrived at great intervals. “We used to go to the Hulak post office to see if there was a letter. The day the letters arrived, we would run home from school at around 4PM and wait for my mother to return from the fields. But once she was back, my siblings and I would sit around and my elder brother would read out the letter,” recalls Khushiram.By 2012, with three family members in Bahrain, finances had improved and they were building a house in Kathmandu. But their lives came crashing when his mother was diagnosed with cancer. “The ones left behind rarely get the attention and credit they deserve for keeping families intact. We are viewed as the providers, but to me, it was my mother who was the real leader of our family,” says Khushiram.The family gave the mother the treatment they could afford, but there came a time when the doctors said nothing more could be done. Khushiram and his brother decided to send their father home. “We had to convince our father it was time he left, without telling him what the doctors had said. He agreed. We cried.”The two were able to spend a few months together before she passed. “But we were not able to spend time with our mother even in her last days. That is the dilemma of foreign employment. Between our duty hours and the news of our mother’s cancer, much remains a blur,” he says. <figure><img width="1241" height="1448" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181148/636be8619c7e80680e087856jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Khushiram, now a father of a six-year-old boy, hopes that his son will not have to opt for foreign employment. “While I want him to stay in Nepal, our politicians, with their self-interest and cronyism, will likely chase my son abroad just like they did my father, brother and I."***Sultan Tika left Gulmi for Malaysia in 1991. He used his connections to arrange a visit visa as there were no work permits, and Nepalis went via Thailand. “I went to Malaysia because I had been told that there is an option for citizenship if you stay there for a few years, only to realise it wasn’t true,” Sultan recalls. <figure><img width="960" height="720" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181148/636be8649c7e80680e087857jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>  The term ‘setting’ where transnational networks operated were already a thing then. He had to pay Rs80,000 to the agents. “For someone who had barely seen 500 rupee notes, this amount was really large. At that time, you could buy 1 बिघा (0.4 hectare) land at Rs50,000.” Sultan was paid Rs240 a day to do agricultural work.   The reluctance to hire foreign workers in Malaysia was as real then as they are now. Sectors like agriculture were facing shortages, however, and without legal pathways, illegal options were the only route. Sultan says Nepalis started coming “in droves” to Malaysia from 2001, when the government introduced work permits for foreign workers, first for agriculture workers then for security guards. As a veteran migrant worker in the agriculture sector, Sultan leased land and started his own initiative in Penang. He also became the go-to person for many Nepalis who had escaped their abusive employers or were seeking work. “For many, it was a transit job so they could earn enough to buy their tickets home,” he says.In 2017, Sultan decided to pack up and come home. He has set up an agriculture farm in Gulmi, where he is raising 90 goats and has set up a greenhouse for vegetables farming.  <img width="720" height="960" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181148/636be8679c7e80680e087858jpeg.jpg" alt=""><img width="720" height="960" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181148/636be86a9c7e80680e087859jpeg.jpg" alt="">Sultan Tika in his home village in Gulmi. “When I went to Malaysia in 1991, it felt like Nepal and Malaysia were similar. By the time I left, Malaysia had advanced so much,” he says now. But he is optimistic about the opportunities promised by mechanised agriculture in Nepal, with the right incentives and policies in place.****Ram first went abroad for work in 1998.  “Everyone said Arab is the place to be, so I too wanted to go,” he says. The names Qatar, Saudi Arabia and Dubai sounded familiar but it did not matter to him where he landed up as long as he could leave Nepal.Ram was charged Rs55,000 for a security job in Dubai. There was not much documentation and process in those days. There were not many Nepalis in Dubai in 1998 but it was exciting to bump into them and ask how long they had been there.“If they said 4 or 5 years, I would feel a mixture of shock and pity for them. The idea of being in a foreign country for so long was new to me,” he says. “Little did I know that I would still be here in 2020.”In Ram’s memory, Dubai almost looked like Nepal when he first arrived. “There were no tall buildings. Even the airport was small and dingy. Look at this place now. Dubai has changed a lot, but I have not changed at all.” “Back then, a 30 dirham phone card lasted 3 minutes. I used to use one to talk to the shopkeeper with the phone to arrange the time for the call. And another one to talk to my family at the pre-arranged time. I would make up my mind in advance about the things I wanted to say in those three minutes. The rest went in the letter,” he recalls.Working as a security guard everyday for two decades have been a repetition of the previous day for Ram. “No career progression. No change in routine. Some clever Nepali guards become group leaders, but the rest of us are always security officers.”Every year, he spends over 4,000 hours guarding either private residences or commercial buildings. “I usually get the 12-hour night shifts from 5PM to 5AM. It is difficult to feel rested when you sleep during the day. And it takes a toll on your health.” With low incomes, saving is a challenge. And there are always new expenses. There’s children’s education and bigger investments like land and house. “Then it is your children’s wedding. And your parents’ health costs. Just when you think you are done some other expense shows up, and you keep postponing your return home.” Ram’s elder daughter got married recently and he could not be home. “Remittances helped me pay for my daughter’s wedding. But my job did not let me go back to attend it.”Now in his 50s, Ram says that unlike the lyrics to the song Saili that says, “we will return home at 40”, he is late by a decade. “My visa expires in 18 months. I think I will now head home for good. It is time.”

Upasana Khadka

Sons of their fathers

Human history is woven in stories of migration for work and livelihood. The trend continues to be a legacy for most Nepali men, who have migrated for work to India, Burma and beyond for centuries, working odd jobs, or defending other countries.   <img width="1181" height="530" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109191120/636bef504b0ad905ca02ef9cjpeg.jpg" alt=""/>The more recent phenomenon in the past two decades is the outflow of workers to the Gulf and Malaysia, who battle challenges starting from agents at home to difficult weather conditions and foreign employers. In 2018-19, the government issued 236,208 permits for overseas work, and it is estimated that at least 4 million Nepalis at any given time are working abroad. Khushiram Gurung, Sultan Tika and Ram from different regions of Nepal, have spent a large part of their lives toiling in foreign countries, while their hearts stayed back home. Now, their children are following their fathers’ footsteps in this inter-generational trend.  <figure><img width="650" height="451" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109191120/636bef534b0ad905ca02ef9djpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Khushiram Gurung with his family at their Kathmandu home. </figcaption></figure>Khushiram Gurung has been working in Bahrain as a security guard since 2010.He was first introduced to Bahrain in 2003, when he was a 15-year-old boy in Lamjung. His father, an Indian Army returnee, was waiting to hear from a Kathmandu-based recruiter regarding a security guard job in Malaysia. But the agent came back with a possible opportunity in Bahrain instead.The family had never heard of Bahrain, but after learning that the salary would be over Rs30,000 per month, they said yes. In the next few days, Khushiram’s father arranged Rs100,000 via informal loans, and left for Bahrain. Five years later, Khushiram’s brother joined him in Bahrain. After 7 years, it was Khushiram. Having grown up without his father around, it was in Bahrain that he spent more time with him.  <figure><img width="1152" height="864" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109191120/636bef554b0ad905ca02ef9ejpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> Khushiram Gurung with colleagues when he first arrived in Bahrain.</figcaption></figure>“When we were growing up and my father was away in India, we didn’t know when he would return. My siblings and I would wake up some days and he would just be sitting in the kitchen, having arrived late in the previous night.” When his father left for Bahrain, his presence became the letters that arrived at great intervals. “We used to go to the Hulak post office to see if there was a letter. The day the letters arrived, we would run home from school at around 4PM and wait for my mother to return from the fields. But once she was back, my siblings and I would sit around and my elder brother would read out the letter,” recalls Khushiram.By 2012, with three family members in Bahrain, finances had improved and they were building a house in Kathmandu. But their lives came crashing when his mother was diagnosed with cancer. “The ones left behind rarely get the attention and credit they deserve for keeping families intact. We are viewed as the providers, but to me, it was my mother who was the real leader of our family,” says Khushiram.The family gave the mother the treatment they could afford, but there came a time when the doctors said nothing more could be done. Khushiram and his brother decided to send their father home. “We had to convince our father it was time he left, without telling him what the doctors had said. He agreed. We cried.”The two were able to spend a few months together before she passed. “But we were not able to spend time with our mother even in her last days. That is the dilemma of foreign employment. Between our duty hours and the news of our mother’s cancer, much remains a blur,” he says. <figure><img width="1241" height="1448" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109191120/636bef574b0ad905ca02ef9fjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Khushiram Gurung at the airport in Bahrain with his father, seeing him off as he headed back home for good.</figcaption></figure>Khushiram, now a father of a six-year-old boy, hopes that his son will not have to opt for foreign employment. “While I want him to stay in Nepal, our politicians, with their self-interest and cronyism, will likely chase my son abroad just like they did my father, brother and I."***Sultan Tika left Gulmi for Malaysia in 1991. He used his connections to arrange a visit visa as there were no work permits, and Nepalis went via Thailand. “I went to Malaysia because I had been told that there is an option for citizenship if you stay there for a few years, only to realise it wasn’t true,” Sultan recalls. <figure><img width="960" height="720" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109191120/636bef5a4b0ad905ca02efa0jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Sultan Tika in Malaysia, in front of Petronas.</figcaption></figure>  The term ‘setting’ where transnational networks operated were already a thing then. He had to pay Rs80,000 to the agents. “For someone who had barely seen 500 rupee notes, this amount was really large. At that time, you could buy 1 बिघा (0.4 hectare) land at Rs50,000.” Sultan was paid Rs240 a day to do agricultural work.   The reluctance to hire foreign workers in Malaysia was as real then as they are now. Sectors like agriculture were facing shortages, however, and without legal pathways, illegal options were the only route. Sultan says Nepalis started coming “in droves” to Malaysia from 2001, when the government introduced work permits for foreign workers, first for agriculture workers then for security guards. As a veteran migrant worker in the agriculture sector, Sultan leased land and started his own initiative in Penang. He also became the go-to person for many Nepalis who had escaped their abusive employers or were seeking work. “For many, it was a transit job so they could earn enough to buy their tickets home,” he says.In 2017, Sultan decided to pack up and come home. He has set up an agriculture farm in Gulmi, where he is raising 90 goats and has set up a greenhouse for vegetables farming.  <img width="720" height="960" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109191120/636bef5c4b0ad905ca02efa1jpeg.jpg" alt=""><img width="720" height="960" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109191120/636bef5f4b0ad905ca02efa2jpeg.jpg" alt="">Sultan Tika in his home village in Gulmi. “When I went to Malaysia in 1991, it felt like Nepal and Malaysia were similar. By the time I left, Malaysia had advanced so much,” he says now. But he is optimistic about the opportunities promised by mechanised agriculture in Nepal, with the right incentives and policies in place.****Ram first went abroad for work in 1998.  “Everyone said Arab is the place to be, so I too wanted to go,” he says. The names Qatar, Saudi Arabia and Dubai sounded familiar but it did not matter to him where he landed up as long as he could leave Nepal.Ram was charged Rs55,000 for a security job in Dubai. There was not much documentation and process in those days. There were not many Nepalis in Dubai in 1998 but it was exciting to bump into them and ask how long they had been there.“If they said 4 or 5 years, I would feel a mixture of shock and pity for them. The idea of being in a foreign country for so long was new to me,” he says. “Little did I know that I would still be here in 2020.”In Ram’s memory, Dubai almost looked like Nepal when he first arrived. “There were no tall buildings. Even the airport was small and dingy. Look at this place now. Dubai has changed a lot, but I have not changed at all.” “Back then, a 30 dirham phone card lasted 3 minutes. I used to use one to talk to the shopkeeper with the phone to arrange the time for the call. And another one to talk to my family at the pre-arranged time. I would make up my mind in advance about the things I wanted to say in those three minutes. The rest went in the letter,” he recalls.Working as a security guard everyday for two decades have been a repetition of the previous day for Ram. “No career progression. No change in routine. Some clever Nepali guards become group leaders, but the rest of us are always security officers.”Every year, he spends over 4,000 hours guarding either private residences or commercial buildings. “I usually get the 12-hour night shifts from 5PM to 5AM. It is difficult to feel rested when you sleep during the day. And it takes a toll on your health.” With low incomes, saving is a challenge. And there are always new expenses. There’s children’s education and bigger investments like land and house. “Then it is your children’s wedding. And your parents’ health costs. Just when you think you are done some other expense shows up, and you keep postponing your return home.” Ram’s elder daughter got married recently and he could not be home. “Remittances helped me pay for my daughter’s wedding. But my job did not let me go back to attend it.”Now in his 50s, Ram says that unlike the lyrics to the song Saili that says, “we will return home at 40”, he is late by a decade. “My visa expires in 18 months. I think I will now head home for good. It is time.”

https://youtu.be/NR6mf_rrRb0Learning from the success of overseas Chinese and Indians investing in their homeland, the Nepal government hurriedly passed two foreign investment related bills recently. But non-resident Nepalis are not impressed.The Public Private Partnership and Investment (PPPIA) Bill was passed by Parliament on 18 March, and the Foreign Investment and Technology Transfer (FITTA) Bill on 22 March, but investors say it does not go far enough in allying their concerns.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110811118/636a2b239c7e80680e04595ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="211" height="182"/>Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/maze/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Maze</a><a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/invest-in-investment/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Invest in investment</a>, Editorial<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=23939&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Curb corruption before wooing investors</a>, Ramesh KumarNot only do the bills have contradictory provisions with an extended negative list, a minimum limit for investments, and requirements of multiple approvals, experts say they do not address the central concern of transparency, policy continuity and rule of law.FITTA has extended the negative list (sectors in which foreign investment is prohibited) to include agriculture, horticulture, and dairy, sectors which many overseas Nepalis are eager to modernise and create jobs back home.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-inc/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepal, Inc.</a>, Suman Joshi<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=23951&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">A roller coaster ride</a>, Shyamal K Shrestha “When you prohibit so many areas for foreign investment, you are giving the wrong message to investors, especially to non-resident Nepalis. Not only does it render some sectors completely off limits, it also scares investors that their current investments may become off limits in future,” says <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/bottom-up-approach/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Siddhant Pandey of Business Oxygen</a>. “Investment should be welcomed in all areas so as to help economic growth, technology transfer and to bring Nepal’s human resources up to speed.”The Non-resident Nepali (NRN) Association is concerned about shortcomings in the Acts, and has said so through a document published by its policy research wing Nepal Policy Institute (NPI) which rues the fact that the Acts treat overseas Nepalis, foreign citizens of Nepali origin, and other foreign investors alike.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/two-experts-on-nepals-investment-climate/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepal’s investment climate</a><a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/how-nepal-can-invest-in-improving-the-investment-climate/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">How Nepal can invest in improving the investment climate</a>, Anil Chitrakar Says Khagendra Dhakal of NPI: “The government says it needs the negative list to protect small-scale industries, but people of Nepali origins have special emotional ties to Nepal even if they may not have enough capital for large scale investments. NRNs and foreign citizens of Nepali origins should be given the same rights as Nepali citizens.”The NPI report recommends scrapping the negative list and lifting restrictions on foreigners from investing in businesses worth less than $150,000 for overseas Nepalis.“If a business worth $100,000 is employing at least 20 Nepalis and training them in new technology, it should be open to investment for NRNs and foreigners of Nepali origin too,” says Dhakal.However, FITTA authorises the Industry and Investment Promotion Board to approve companies investing Rs5-10 billion, while PPPIA directs companies above Rs6 billion to the Investment Board Nepal (IBN).Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/early-investors-didnt-sell-nepal-short/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Early investors didn’t sell Nepal short</a>, Lisa Choegyal<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=23904&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Napoli Nepali</a>, Kunda Dixit<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110811118/636a2b249c7e80680e04595bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="428"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Amidst concern that PPPIA concentrates power in the IBN, which does not have much to show for itself, the real question at the Summit this week is whether these hastily-passed bills will remove misgivings of foreigners and NRNs about investing in Nepal.Economist and former Nepali ambassador to the United States Shankar Sharma believes that the law itself is not the problem when it comes to attracting foreign investment, but its execution.“We have good laws but their implementation is weak, which is the real problem,” says Sharma. “There is supposed to be a one-door policy, but in reality investors are made to jump through hoops to register companies or repatriate profits. The process is cumbersome, full of hassles. We need detailed guidelines about how these laws will be simpler and easier to implement.”Former president of NRN association Jiba Lamichhane agrees, stating that though the laws are all right there are other problems. “Overall our laws are quite liberal, but they fail to create a conducive investment climate with extortion, hassles over repatriating profits. If we want to attract investment, we must learn from best practices around the world. African countries attract huge investments from China while we have not been able to do so despite being next door,” he says.Investing in Nepal is more expensive than in other Asian countries due to the lack of skilled manpower and infrastructure, and experts say that without improvements the two bills are not going to make much of a difference.On the positive side, FITTA and PPPIA have eliminated many of the hassles related to registering FDI companies. Investors who needed to get approval from at least five agencies, now need to go to only two.The World Bank’s Nepal Country Manager Faris Hadad-Zervos told Nepali Times: “Nepal is entering a new chapter in its development, and it is not just about one law or policy but a change in the narrative where Nepal has survived several crises and is moving to rebuilding. The actual impact of the bills will depend on regulations to operationalise these laws.”

Overseas Nepalis are not impressed

112 dead, 65 missing in Nepal floods

This late monsoon storm was not a surprise. Weather forecasts had warned of heavy precipitation a week before, the Met Office predicted heavy rain on 27-28 September, SMS warned people to take precaution, radio stations issued bulletins, and night buses were banned in 56 districts.&nbsp; The tragedy was compounded because we knew what was coming, and did not do enough to prepare. The accurate weather forecast made no real difference on the ground. When it started raining on Thursday morning and did not stop till Saturday, there was no sense of the scale of this emergency. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/60-dead-64-missing-in-nepal-floods">More than 200 people lost their lives, dozens are still missing.</a> Thousands of homes were swept away, Nepal lost nearly half its electricity generation capacity because of damage to power plants, Kathmandu has been nearly cut off with bridges and sections of highways swept away. Yes, this was primarily a natural disaster. Kathmandu Valley and its surroundings got half the average annual precipitation in just 40 hours, the heaviest rainfall measured since records started being kept in 1972. But the high death toll was totally manmade.&nbsp; Three buses were buried by a mudslide in Dhading, killing at least 35 people. This was an eerie reminder of the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/100-101-102-hh5uvzf9">Simaltal accident on 12 July </a>when two intercity buses were swept by a mudflow into the Trisuli River at night, killing 62. The buses have still not been found.&nbsp; In both cases, heavy rainfall on a poorly engineered local road up the mountains triggered the initial landslide that swept debris to the highway below. This was manslaughter, not an ‘accident’.&nbsp; We said it then, and we are saying it now: most mountain roads follow no reason or science. It is a corruption-fed activity in which local governments and their cronies plan roads ad hoc and rent their own bulldozers. Debris accumulated during construction is dumped over the edge, where monsoon rains wash them to settlements, farms and highways below. Last weekend’s disaster is a warning that accurate weather early warning is just the first step – it is not enough to prevent a huge loss of life. After the warnings, there should have been door-to-door miking along hazardous river banks urging people to move to higher ground, shelters should have been in place, rescue equipment and rafts pre-positioned, live monitoring of precipitation in the catchments. The National Disaster Risk Reduction and Management Authority (NDRRMA) was just posting situationers on social media. The Home Ministry became a Ministry of Condolences and Empty Promises.&nbsp; This disaster is a reminder of the 1993 Central Nepal cloudburst that hit the Lothar Khola in Chitwan, the Kulekhani areas, and highways blocked highways marooning Kathmandu for weeks. More than 1,300 people were killed.&nbsp; The death toll in Kathmandu this time was compounded by the fact that the city has spread into the floodplains of the Vishnumati, Manohara and other tributaries of the Bagmati. Natural waterways have been hemmed in by streets. The rivers were just reclaiming what was theirs.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240930150944_1221b4fb442a21e8d2dbf1aeeca61b7a8d791c117d6a93401f15ba2a95d49a69.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20240930150944_1221b4fb442a21e8d2dbf1aeeca61b7a8d791c117d6a93401f15ba2a95d49a69" data-rendition-name="original" width="1949" height="1299" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal floods"> <figcaption>Kathmandu Valley, especially its southern fringes looks like an epicentre of a major quake following the rains. Photo: SUMAN NEPALI</figcaption> </figure>  Urban pressure has also forced settlements to move up the Valley’s rim, below steep hillsides with topsoil already saturated in the late monsoon. The torrential downpours caused the slopes to fail. The damage to Upper Tamakosi and dozens of other hydropower plants also is a warning not to put all our eggs in one basket. The Sikkim disaster exactly this time last year was proof that these are at high risk from glacial lake floods and landslide dammed rivers suddenly bursting. More logical would be to build smaller, better designed, plants on many rivers. The Himalaya is also the youngest and most fragile mountain range on earth, Nepal has always had either too much or too little water, and climate breakdown is making this contrast more extreme. Combined, this means we in Nepal live in a multi-disaster prone country with seismic, hydrological and climate risks.&nbsp; After multiple floods in early 1990s, a Japanese grant helped set up the Disaster Prevention Technical Centre (DPTC) in Pulchowk, which was later renamed the Department of Water Induced Disaster Management. We have not heard much from them lately. With the government AWOL, it is ordinary Nepalis who have shown extraordinary courage in saving those being swept by flood water, rescuing babies on canoes (pictured), or digging for passengers trapped in buses buried by landslides. The Nepal Army and the Police rescued thousands, but there was an absence of coordination.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240930150944_cb55edb93eb3aad169b22bc4dec06b5478746fbe75417c628bf671ec698f7912.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20240930150944_cb55edb93eb3aad169b22bc4dec06b5478746fbe75417c628bf671ec698f7912" data-rendition-name="original" width="1080" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal floods"> <figcaption>Photo: SOCIAL MEDIA</figcaption> </figure>  Now, the attention must focus on urgent relief and rehabilitation. But that might be a tall ask just before everything shuts down for Dasain, and when governance fails, lack of accountability and transparency is the norm even without holidays.&nbsp; Sonia Awale

When it rains it pours

The Imadol neighbourhood of Kathmandu Valley was among the worst hit by last weekend’s devastating floods. The Manohara River, swollen by incessant rainfall, overflowed into the settlements along its banks. A photograph taken by French anthropologist Corneille Jest in monsoon 1972 shows the Manohara meandering across a wide plain, its banks lush with ripening paddy. Two farmers cross the field carrying a kharpan, a sturdy traditional bamboo basket carried on shoulders, that has almost vanished from the Valley today. It is a tranquil view of a once-emerald Valley and its unique civilisation that blended urban living with intense agriculture on the fertile topsoil. Gazing at these images shows us the life and times of Old Nepal. This and other photographs taken by Jest during his research in Nepal’s Dolpo and Kathmandu 60 years ago are a reminder of how much in Nepal has changed, and what remains the same. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/kathmandu-s-passage-of-time-in-photos">Kathmandu’s passage of time in photos</a>, Ashish Dhakal  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024100505108_e5eae5b7745301134e49b009d519326ea826f2e11c76b33aa63ea13734fa9d2c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024100505108_e5eae5b7745301134e49b009d519326ea826f2e11c76b33aa63ea13734fa9d2c" data-rendition-name="original" width="2500" height="1667" loading="lazy" alt="An anthropologist's perspective of Nepal"> <figcaption>Offering a prayer flag at a pass above Tukuche in 1963.</figcaption> </figure>  Jest visited Nepal every other year since 1960, and the exhibition itself shows us the passage of time -- it is aesthetic and evocative, a lament and sometimes deeply nostalgic.&nbsp; The exhibition is organised by Mémoires de l’Himalaya, a French association that works to preserve works on the trans-Himalayan region. Jest was a prolific photographer and out of the 45,000 negatives in his collection, &nbsp;almost 100 black and white and colour prints were selected for this exhibition at the Patan Museum. “The data researchers collect rarely helps the community being studied.. So, it was Jest's idea and ours as an organisation to give back, what we can, to the local community,” says Rémi Chaix of Mémoires de l’Himalaya, who is also one of the curators. “The field notes taken by Jest can also be accessed.” Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/making-nepal-s-history-colourful">Making Nepal’s history colourful</a>, Kanak Mani Dixit  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241004091020_eb98695b6253e9dde6f051b24596bc09060834bdba1219b9cff2ac080540c63c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20241004091020_eb98695b6253e9dde6f051b24596bc09060834bdba1219b9cff2ac080540c63c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="3000" loading="lazy" alt="An Anthropologist's Early Glimpses of Nepal NT"> <figcaption>Members of the Tarap community at Dolpo's Drolma Pass during their pilgrimage to the Buddha-ri sacred mountain in 1960.Corneille Jest - Mémoires de l'Himalaya</figcaption> </figure>  Curated by Fernand Meyer, Kunsang Namgyal-Lama and Chaix, the first floor of the museum showcases photographs of Kathmandu Valley and the second floor is dedicated to Dolpo, especially Tarap Valley where Jest spent most of his time. This curatorial choice of placing the photographs of a place in a specific floor is important, allowing viewers to keep the two worlds separate. The photographs on the first floor are exclusive and published for the first time. There is also an 11 minute documentary on loop that captures the 1968 Seto Machhindranath festival. One does not just get to see this era but even hear its sounds. Photos of Dolpo on the second floor show how little the landscape and dwellings of this remote region has changed in the past decades, although with the road now reaching the district it will inevitably undergo rapid transformation. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/memories-of-an-archivist">Memories of an archivist</a>, Anita Bhetwal  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241004091020_ae632fde3aac88ac90bad7e348904446b10b793d650d7bfc4a2f7a977f6f84cc.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20241004091020_ae632fde3aac88ac90bad7e348904446b10b793d650d7bfc4a2f7a977f6f84cc" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="884" loading="lazy" alt="An Anthropologist's Early Glimpses of Nepal NT"> <figcaption>Attendees at a Buddhist ritual, Tarap, 1963.Corneille Jest - Mémoires de l'Himalaya</figcaption> </figure>  Some of the Dolpo photographs have already been published in Jest’s books like ‘Tales of The Turquoise: A Pilgrimage in Dolpo’. “Jest had a habit of clicking the same image twice. One would be in black and white and the other would be in colour,” explains Chaix who along with other two curators had to decide which would be a better fit for the exhibit. Jest’s photos of Dolpo are intimate and let the audience peek into the Himalayan lifestyle at the time. Researching about the Himalayan people and the culture while living in Tarap Valley, Jest developed a particular affinity for Dolpo, shares Guillaume Jest, one of Corneille’s sons, who was here at the inauguration of the exhibition.&nbsp; “I think that my father’s fondness for the population of Dolpo and their religion and culture comes from the fact that they build their way of life in a very harsh but breathtaking world of the high valleys of the Himalayas,” says Guillaume. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/adventures-of-a-lone-archivist">Adventures of a lone archivist</a>, Alisha Sijapati  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241004091020_6cba26cf4cd2c38db65a4b00966f58ed87d46de3e01c8927f6ac1d8d3f5cadc3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20241004091020_6cba26cf4cd2c38db65a4b00966f58ed87d46de3e01c8927f6ac1d8d3f5cadc3" data-rendition-name="original" width="2500" height="1666" loading="lazy" alt="An Anthropologist's Early Glimpses of Nepal NT"> <figcaption>Terraced maize and paddy fields during the 1972 monsoon at Imadol, which has been built over and was submerged on 28 September.Corneille Jest - Mémoires de l'Himalaya</figcaption> </figure>  Being an anthropologist, Jest’s focus is always on the people he encounters and the landscape or architecture being props. This is a rich visual documentation of what people wore, what they ate, what the houses looked like, their daily work in the fields, the harvest process, cultural rituals and celebrations. “Corneille Jest’s photographs give us a rare insight into the everyday life, culture, and landscapes of Nepal during a pivotal period in the country’s history, just after its opening to the rest of the world. They reveal the depth and diversity of Nepali culture,” says Virginie Corteval, French Ambassador to Nepal, who opened the exhibition last week. She adds: “These represent a testimony of the important work by pioneer French researchers such as Corneille Jest or Sylvain Lévi, in studying the diversity of the Nepali civilisation.” &nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/an-archive-of-nepali-heritage">An archive of Nepali heritage</a>, Ashish Dhakal <h2>Lalita Niwas 60 years ago</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241004091020_72859aaf3e5f323bfce71e7adb8ba84fe1016e7e7323b4b3458570be22572146.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20241004091020_72859aaf3e5f323bfce71e7adb8ba84fe1016e7e7323b4b3458570be22572146" data-rendition-name="original" width="2500" height="1667" loading="lazy" alt="An Anthropologist's Early Glimpses of Nepal NT"> </figure>  The Lalita Niwas Land grab scandal is making headlines today, and has implicated the high and mighty of the land. But few know what the original palace of Subarna Shumsher Rana looked like. Corneille Jest’s aerial photograph in 1963 of the neoclassical palace gives us an idea of the grandeur and size of the complex that spread over a 7 hectare plot in Baluwatar. After the property was nationalised during the Panchayat, it has been fragmented, bought and sold numerous times. The scandal has put 18 of the 310 individuals charged behind bars. The building now houses the Nepal Rastra Bank.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19789#.YX-e4S8w3u0">The first photographs of us</a>, Kanak Mani Dixit An Anthropologist’s Early Glimpses of Nepal 10AM-6PM Till 18 October Patan Museum

overseas-nepali

Japan-born Nepali children struggle to ‘be Nepali’

Sons of their fathers

Sons of their fathers

Overseas Nepalis are not impressed

112 dead, 65 missing in Nepal floods

Japan-born Nepali children struggle to ‘be Nepali’

When it rains it pours

The present meets the past