This is the 55th edition of Diaspora Diaries, a regular column about migration in Nepali Times. Trying to escape being recruited by the Maoists, and running out of options in Nepal, I dropped out of school and paid Rs300,000 to a recruiter to take me to the UAE on a tourist visa.&nbsp; I was stranded there for two months, and just as my visa was about to expire, I landed a job in the warehouse of an American base in Afghanistan. Within three months, I got promoted to a Senior Supervisor which irked some of my colleagues who had been working there for seven years. I was already also feeling discriminated against by my Nepali colleagues, except one colleague from Taplejung who had a good heart. One day, a bomb exploded in a container with food items, killing nine people. I had enough and returned to Nepal. When you are so close to death, you reassess your life choices. In my 17 months in Afghanistan, I had earned close to Rs3 million which helped me buy land and build a house. In Kathmandu, I came across an ad in Kantipur for Korean language classes, and without even returning to Janakpur I enrolled. The EPS language test was just 58 days away, and there were people who had been preparing for the Korean language test for up to three years. The odds were stacked against me. I studied for the exam as though my life depended on it. I aced the mock exams. I ranked first out of 600 students, and this reminded me of my childhood when I was a class topper. It was the financial situation that had made me discontinue my studies. I managed to pass the exam, the only person out of the 36 living in our rented building. I went to Korea and worked in manufacturing. Three months into my stint, my father was diagnosed with a brain tumor, and I came home for a month to take care of him.&nbsp; Even if I did not have liquid cash, I knew I had a job waiting for me in Korea and could have borrowed money to take my father to India. My only priority was to keep my father alive. But the doctor said his case was terminal.&nbsp; He was discharged from hospital, and we brought him home. As I left for Korea, he could not speak properly but acknowledged that I was leaving and gestured his blessings. He died a week later. I was at work, and went to my room to grieve. I declined my employer’s offer to buy me a ticket home as I had already lost my father. I mourned for him for a week in my room. In the five years there, I repaid the loans I had taken for my father’s medical bills and even had some savings. I could have renewed my contract in Korea for another five years, but I decided against it.&nbsp; Of course, it was exhilarating to be paid Rs200,000 a month in my bank account, but I had worked for others all my life, and now that I had made some money, I wanted to do something on my own in Nepal. The technical skills I had accumulated working in a car company were not very applicable here. But I also learnt many other things in Korea like work ethic, respect for peers, and discipline. I bought a used machine that makes notebooks and set up Rudraksha, a notebook factory.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241226091228_1aede8148362860c9c16b65ceeaf8df6a1df02c61b5d6bce3180d6a547fa2f64.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20241226091228_1aede8148362860c9c16b65ceeaf8df6a1df02c61b5d6bce3180d6a547fa2f64" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspori Diaries 55"> </figure>  I hired a former worker from the same factory I had bought the machine from and he taught me how to operate it and about the stationery business. Seven years later, he is still working with me.&nbsp; It is in Korea that I learnt how bosses and staff work side-by-side and there is no task that is too big or small. I know that when I work with my staff, it makes them more proactive. I used to deliver the notebooks on my bike to shops all over my district and beyond. Later I diversified and took on dealership of brands like Natraj, Cello and Doms. This spread out my income sources naturally because it was related to my notebook factory . Things were going well until the pandemic hit and I suffered a huge loss. The notebooks in stock were all damaged. I was idle, so I became a dealer for Bikaji and expanded to other brands like Horlicks, Nestle, Dabur Nepal and Tokla tea. As things recovered, my brothers and I dabbled in a shoe factory. Other than instinctively knowing that there was a high demand for affordable shoes in our area, we did not have any prior knowledge or experience in this sector. It was a gamble and the upfront investments were high, but fortunately it has worked out well.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241226091228_d695759f66c03d08fda6ce25be00e122c01f18cd671e27640bc30392933c8d0f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20241226091228_d695759f66c03d08fda6ce25be00e122c01f18cd671e27640bc30392933c8d0f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspori Diaries 55"> </figure>  Our company, TNT, has good designs and finishing at affordable prices and it has attracted customers across Nepal. While there are challenges like fierce competition and high bank interest rates, we are doing quite well for ourselves.&nbsp; Across my portfolio, I am providing jobs to 122 workers. I first started with a Rs150 business as a kid selling plastic bags in a vegetable market for Rs1.25 each. I have come a long way since then. My work has given me recognition in my area, even though I tend to be quite introverted. My community members who have watched me since I was little tell me that I am a legend in the tea shops as someone who rose from nothing to be a successful entrepreneur.&nbsp; With my father’s salary as a teacher, we did not even have money to buy school uniforms. I value hard work and that is what I tell young people. When I am on someone’s payroll, I take ownership of the work. I do not let time dictate my work schedule.&nbsp; If I can stay an extra ten minutes to solve something, I do not leave it for tomorrow. Little things like this matter. For those of us without a strong family back-up, foreign employment can be beneficial. But I have also met a few people who were overseas who are still there.&nbsp; Their children are now also overseas. Those stories are a bit disheartening. I am not sure why things are that way. Perhaps people overspend and do not prioritise savings? I was one of the first workers in Korea from our Maithili community and I did not have many friends from the Tarai there. Towards the end of my stay there, I met a few here and there. Many from our villages opt for overseas employment opportunities where agents just hand over their visas at a price. I remind young people to be patient and take up language classes so they can benefit from higher paying jobs.&nbsp; Working hard has not stopped even now. I want to leave a legacy. Let’s see what the future holds. My next goal is to start a pen factory. &nbsp; Diaspora Diaries is a Nepali Times collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working, studying abroad.

original

674x448

610x380

500x500

400x266

400x240

400x203

301x200

1250x600

1084x550

thumbnail

viewImage

Overseas job-seeker now creates jobs in Nepal

‘Malaysia NPR 400,000. Dubai, Qatar NPR 200,000-250,000.’ These are prevailing under-the-table market rates listed for Nepalis to secure overseas jobs.&nbsp;
Low paid workers pay <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-theory-and-practice-of-zero-cost-migration">high recruitment fees</a> equivalent to months of wages, while higher paid professionals get relocation and other benefits.&nbsp;
Yet, ongoing research by Migration Lab and International Manpower Recruitment (IMR) with ethically hired workers shows that aspirants and their communities still regard the employer-pays recruitment model with deep skepticism and disbelief.&nbsp;
And why would they believe it? Even when workers pay hefty fees, it is never guaranteed that they will land the promised job, or not be stranded abroad. Jobs that require zero payment are even considered scams, with concerns about the quality of the job, wage deductions or about being duped.&nbsp;
Some workers do not apply for jobs at all, or are dissuaded by their families. The good news is that perceptions change.&nbsp;
And all it takes is one successful migrant worker in a village to change perceptions. One worker who did not have to pay recruitment fees told us: “People from my village do not believe me.” Another said: “Four or five from my village have already migrated for free, so people believe it.”
Some workers passed up job offers requiring fees, waiting instead for ethical employers from whom close friends or family members had benefited.
Because not all aspirants know about workers who did not have to pay recruitment fees, social media <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@migrationlab/video/7418580695485795617">messaging</a> is critical. Online <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@migrationlab/video/7421150186598190369">testimonies</a> from workers who got jobs through ethical channels are helpful, but are also met with skepticism because it is widely known that workers are frequently coerced by fraudulent recruiters into speaking on camera about not paying fees despite having paid significant amounts.
<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/labour-mobility/a-few-good-agents">Ethical recruiters like IMR</a> conduct village campaigns to screen workers. This reduces the reliance on middlemen, and broadens the understanding of how ethical recruitment drives work.
Prior to departure, IMR wins the trust of workers and creates a safe space to admit if they have paid anyone fees. Middlemen can often mislead workers to believe that they have a say in influencing interview outcomes and charge workers.&nbsp;
The biggest obstacle is to assure workers that admitting they have paid will not cost them their job and that the recruiter will work with concerned authorities to ensure the agent returns the money and does not harass them or their families. Although Nepal’s laws consider such subagents illegal, ‘agents’ are often family members, villagers and friends.&nbsp;
These practical home-grown innovations in recruitment are products of testing to address years of exploitation and distrust in the system and the labour mobility industry. They also bring a nuanced understanding of the often complex aspects of the employer-pays principle.
<a href="https://www.ilo.org/sites/default/files/wcmsp5/groups/public/@ed_norm/@ipec/documents/publication/wcms_727143.pdf">Research</a> shows that when workers do not have to pay recruitment fees, it has positive impact on their productivity and well-being. Responsible recruitment also allows innovation to make migration a transformational development tool to uplift the poorest.&nbsp;
Ethical Examples
IMR and Migration Lab recently connected 70 youth from the Musahar community in Mahottari and survivors of the Jajarkot earthquake last year with factory jobs in Malaysia for which they did not have to pay anything.&nbsp;
Accessing overseas jobs, including those with <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/why-has-zero-cost-migration-not-happened">high fees</a>, is a challenge in these communities. Finding responsible recruitment opportunities is even more difficult. Good migration has the power to push families out of intergenerational poverty and discrimination as seen in the case of many migrant workers in the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/50-diaspora-diaries-in-nepali-times">Diaspora Diaries series</a>.&nbsp;
For <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?app=desktop&amp;v=-mh1uk3fvQc">Jajarkot earthquake survivors</a>, fee-free recruitment can also complement patchy post-disaster recovery efforts by the government. Even without an earthquake, emigration from far-flung areas like Jajarkot is complex because of financial, information and network access issues.&nbsp;
It takes at least two days to travel to Kathmandu, costs are high, and workers may not even pass employer interviews after all the time and money invested.
The earthquake made overseas migration even more difficult in Jajarkot, further affecting access to informal loans, yet increasing the desire to migrate. Many were ready to borrow at 60% interest, while others said they would have migrated to <a href="https://documents1.worldbank.org/curated/en/099439009302442870/pdf/IDU1bade747310f41144991a576183a9a3eb57d4.pdf">India</a>, a cheaper, less-risky alternative with lower returns.
The Musahar community also faced multiple challenges including passport confiscation by middlemen for months without any job placement. Moneylenders also do not trust them to pay back, and are wary of recent restrictions on meter interest lending.
Labour middlemen are strategic about snaring the vulnerable to manipulate and cheat. There are anecdotes about them identifying the most desperate women, including those that are victims of domestic violence or extreme poverty, to send them as domestic workers through irregular channels.&nbsp;
New York University Professor Natasha Iskander’s <a href="https://www.ias.edu/ideas/forging-closed-loop">research</a> documents how companies in Qatar reported targeting candidates from regions experiencing climate breakdown because the educated but newly poor make ideal recruits as they are now willing to accept lower wages.
This narrative can be flipped by good actors through ethical interventions. Sourcing areas can be redefined: not as preying grounds for fraudulent middlemen but where responsible recruiters can reach that last mile with transformative overseas opportunities.
The Musahar and Jajarkot candidates have modest goals: paying for their children’s education, household and medical expenses, buying land, rebuilding houses, and saving to start a small business.&nbsp;
To be sure, migration outcomes are determined by more than just recruitment fees and it will take time to see how they fare. But the likelihood of achieving any goal is certainly higher under debt-free responsible recruitment schemes.&nbsp;
Beyond no costs, workers hired under ethical drives know exactly what jobs they have signed up for and employment terms from the onset, unlike traditional recruitment that is often characterised by false promises and exaggerated benefits.&nbsp;
Workers paying exorbitant fees for jobs will hopefully be an outdated concept one day, but for now the number of ethical recruitment drives is insignificant.&nbsp;
Workers interviewed said their peers paid up to Rs400,000 for comparable jobs, and they too would have been compelled to take the same route if the ethical option was not available. Repeat workers had paid up to $2,259 in fees in earlier migrations.&nbsp;
Highly marginalised communities need even more support to overcome information, finance and networking barriers to connect them with rewarding and safe overseas opportunities.&nbsp;
Systemic disadvantages in education or skills training also limit their ability to secure worthwhile jobs abroad that have wages and better labour protection but higher barriers to entry such as language or skills.&nbsp;
Making ethical migration accessible to the most marginalised Nepalis would have the best impact. Perhaps these issues would come to the fore if we also saw emigration as people chasing their dreams and aspirations, and not just as a compulsion “बाध्यता” that is entrenched in Nepal’s public narrative.
But forced immobility also merits attention. It is an unfulfilled dream for many to also take social media photos at Kathmandu airport with teary-eyed relatives before departing. &nbsp;&nbsp;
<div class="embed-block"><iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/GHAOkqHoa7A?si=QtGrL0W8Ffkh4eiy" 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>
Upasana Khadka heads <a href="https://migration-lab.com/">Migration Lab</a>, a social enterprise aimed at making migration outcomes better for workers and their families. Labour Mobility is her fortnightly column in Nepali Times.

Upasana Khadka

Fee-free migration is possible

Daniela-Mariana Sezonov Ţane was fascinated with the teachings of the Hindu epics, and studied Hindi at the University of Bucharest before joining the Romanian foreign service. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
In between, she served with the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) in Nepal in 2007, the year after the ceasefire. Ţane is now Romania’s ambassador to Nepal, Bangladesh and India and is in Kathmandu this week to launch her book, Twilight Chronicles of which two chapters are about her time in Nepal. &nbsp;She spoke to Nepali Times about her impressions. &nbsp;
Nepali Times: How did you land up in Nepal with the ICRC?
Ambassador Ţane: My work with the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) lasted some eight years and took me to several countries affected by conflicts or in post-conflict time. The mission in Nepal was the third one, after one year in the Tigray region of Ethiopia and 10 months in refugee camps in Eastern Tanzania. In Nepal, initially I was assigned to work on the missing people file. In June 2007 there were still some 1,200 people unaccounted for. I did some field work for families of the missing affected by conflict, recipients of a small assistance program which was meant to help them out of dire poverty.
The last months of my mission were spent mostly in Tarai, preparing the ground with the Nepali Red Cross for the<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=14692"> first elections in 2008</a> after the king’s abdication. If you remember, there was a lot of tension at that time because the Madhesi people felt underrepresented. We were making contingency plans in case there were violent clashes.
My most memorable moment is presented in this book, in the chapter Solukhumbu. Together with my Nepali colleague, Roshan, we went to search in a very remote area for the family of a minor girl who had been separated from her loved ones a few years before. She was rescued and kept by a humanitarian group in a shelter for unaccompanied minors supported by ICRC. She expressed the wish to go back home, so we needed to see if the family was still there. After three days of trekking, we found them in a remote ward, living in a very poor house.
In the meantime, more siblings had been added to an already very poor family. But the reaction of the parents, when they saw the photo of their missing daughter, now a teenager, was a very emotional moment, as well as the insistence of one of her schoolmates to give us a letter for her, next day early morning, before we would start our long journey back.
What I loved the most in my mission in this amazing country were the people. A real bond with my Nepali colleagues at the office was created, and I keep in touch with some of them even today.
After that you became ambassador, how did the book come about?
I started writing my Indian diaries, while posted in India as third secretary and cultural attaché at the Romanian Embassy in New Delhi, beginning of 2000. My friends wanted to know more than the emails sent sporadically. It also came out of the need I felt to make India easier to grasp by my fellow citizens. After being the guide of many delegations, I realised there is a need to better explain the countless puzzling, contradictory expressions and manifestations of India. I noted in my diary the people and the moments which marked me the most.
The entries about Nepal and Sri Lanka came naturally after that somehow. Writing made me explore the various cultural, religious and social aspects of those countries where, by staying longer than a tourist, I became adopted and felt like a local. I hope the readers will like the chapter dedicated to Nepal, a country that will always remain in my heart as one of the most beautiful places I have visited, with warm people and an amazing culture.
How is being ambassador to Nepal in peacetime different from when you were here with ICRC?
Working as a humanitarian comes with a lot of field work and direct contact with people at grassroots level. Time spent in the office alternates with time in the field. There is no diplomatic glamour, just hard work, sometimes in dire or extreme conditions, to which one needs to constantly adapt. As an ambassador, the perspective is totally different.&nbsp;
It means to run both an embassy, as a manager, cultivate the contacts in all areas and at all levels with the countries where you are accredited, and work towards the deepening of ties and economic cooperation. It implies a lot of protocol aspects, and the only common ground with the humanitarian word lies in the 100% requested dedication, leaving almost no time for one self.
Romania is now in the Schengen group, how will it affect Nepalis going to work there?
Belonging to Schengen means we have to apply strictly by the book the Schengen regulations for granting all types of visas. There is no exception from the need of physical presence at the interview and of presenting all the required documents demanded for every visa type.
Nepalis will continue to go to Romania for work, provided they have a valid work permit, and they pass the interview. Nepali workers are highly appreciated in Romania, they are <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/europe-now-favoured-destination-for-nepalis">currently more than 20,000 there working</a> in many sectors like hotels, restaurants, pubs and clubs, agriculture, supermarkets, construction. They are appreciated for their seriousness, hard work, good behaviour and pleasant personality.
How much interest do Romanian trekkers and mountaineers have for Nepal?
With the increase of living standards and of wages, the past decade witnessed a growing number of Romanians coming to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/ever-gone-wildlife-trekking-in-nepal">trek in the Himalaya</a>. I do not have any exact figures, but during the second wave of the pandemic in June-July 2021 we managed to evacuate some 60 Romanian and Moldovan trekkers and tourists with the help of our Honorary Consul General, Narayan Bajaj.&nbsp;

“The most amazing thing about Nepal are its people”

Malaysia is slashing foreign worker intake from end-May, conflicts in West Asia <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/guest-editorial/the-international-order-is-dying-in-gaza">risk engulfing the region</a>, and fortress Europe is building higher walls for migrants. 
All this means that Nepal’s economy, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/business/remittances-up-and-up">almost completely dependent on money its workers send home</a>, is as fragile as a house built on sand. Proof of that was the Covid pandemic, which impacted overseas jobs and remittance inflows. 
Malaysia has now capped foreign workers to only 15% of its 17 million strong workforce, and this will mean there will be much fewer jobs for Nepalis in its palm and rubber plantations, construction, manufacturing and service sectors.
Malaysia has instructed companies that no work visas will be issued after May. One saving grace is that the restrictions do not apply to foreign security guards, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/close-encounter-with-death">most of whom are Nepalis</a>.
Malaysia’s curb on foreign workers appears to be related to domestic unemployment, as well as an EU decision to phase out the import of palm oil as a renewable biofuel because of rainforest destruction. Malaysia is the world’s second-largest producer of palm oil after Indonesia.
There are an estimated 500,000 Nepalis in Malaysia, some of them undocumented workers. Of the 771,000 Nepalis who got labour permits from the Department of Foreign Employment in the last fiscal year, 259,000 went to Malaysia. 
“The fact that a major labour destination country like Malaysia is reducing the number of Nepali workers is not good news,” says labour migration expert Ganesh Gurung. “It will seriously impact on remittance inflows and the economy. It does not seem like the Nepal government has any concrete plans to deal with this issue.”
Rajendra Bhandari, President of the Nepal Association of Foreign Employment Agencies (NAFEA) agrees that Malaysia’s decision is concerning, especially as the demand for foreign workers in Gulf countries is also decreasing. He adds that unless the Nepal government finds alternatives, the number of Nepalis going abroad illegally and ending up doing dangerous work will increase. This is evidenced by the increasing number of Nepalis<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepalis-play-russian-roulette-in-distant-war"> killed in action while fighting for the Russian Army</a> on the Ukrainian front.
Yet even as Foreign Minister Narayan Kaji Shrestha is demanding that Russia send Nepali soldiers home, Labour Minister Dol Prasad Aryal, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/skeletons-in-the-cabinet-k5x6py1v">who is alleged to be involved in recruitment and remittance agencies</a>, reopened labour permits for Russia on Wednesday.
The value of Nepal’s exports is only one-tenth of its imports, and the country pays for imports with remittance income. Latest Nepal Rastra Bank figures show that the country earned $6.35 billion in the last six months of this fiscal year, and foreign exchange reserves hit a record $13.9 billion. 
Ganesh Gurung says that even though Malaysia’s decision might have seemed abrupt, such overwhelming dependence on remittances has always been a risky path for Nepal. Money the diaspora transfers to relatives in Nepal makes up an equivalent of 25% of Nepal’s GDP – one of the highest ratios in the world.
There are an estimated 2 million Nepalis in the Persian Gulf region, and a change in foreign labour policy or a regionwide conflict could jeopardise their jobs and in turn, impact the national economy. 
“This overwhelming reliance on foreign employment has meant that Nepal’s rulers have not been able to implement policy and incentives to create jobs domestically,” says Gurung. “It is inevitable that jobs overseas will dwindle eventually.”
With Malaysia closing, and earnings in the Gulf countries being less than what was promised by recruiters, Nepalis are increasingly <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/europe-now-favoured-destination-for-nepalis" target="_blank">looking to Europe</a> as an alternative. But while Europe needs cheap foreign labour, it is also becoming more restrictive.
Croatia was a favourite springboard for Nepalis seeking to go to Western Europe, but it joined the Schengen area last year. There are now an estimated 15,000 Nepalis in Romania, and more hope to make it there before the country also joins Schengen on 31 March. 
NAFEA’s Rajendra Bhandari says the hurdles are not just from Schengen states in Europe, but also from the Nepal government. Those seeking work in Europe need a work demand letter from a European country that is verified by a Nepal embassy in that country. But most European countries do not have resident embassies. 
“If the demand letters could be verified in Nepal itself, it would open the door for a lot of Nepali workers to go to Europe,” says Bhandari, adding that although the Labour Ministry is open to the idea, the Foreign Ministry does not think so.
Unlike migrant workers who go to other Asian countries to earn money, send remittance back home, and eventually return, Gurung says, most Nepalis who go to Europe more often than not settle there permanently. 
Overseas migration has been seen as a safety valve for Nepalis, but there are many thousands of domestic migrant workers at construction sites all over Kathmandu. 
Ensuring a basic minimum wage and labour protection for them would open up more <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/few-jobs-created-by-nepal-employment-drive">meaningful employment</a> within Nepal in semi-skilled jobs, many of which are being given to migrants from India.
Says Gurung: “Continuing to depend on other countries to give Nepalis jobs, instead of providing jobs in Nepal for Nepalis, will mean trouble for us down the line.”

People's Movement

This is the 33rd instalment of Diaspora Diaries, a regular series in Nepali Times with stories of Nepalis living and working abroad. I still remember the first day I landed in the UAE in 2009. Dubai airport was sparkling clean, spotless. Outside, there was a fancy air-conditioned van with a smartly uniformed driver waiting to pick us up. As he cruised through the wide and clean roads effortlessly, I thought to myself that the driver looked more like a pilot. But reality soon hit. It was past 3 AM, and the scene outside started looking dirtier and dimmer as we drove further away from the airport. We had reached our labour camp and were dropped off in a dingy part of the city. This was our reality, not the glamour and the glitter of the first impression. At 18, I, too, had come to work in the country as a cleaner to add to the sparkle. Despite the disparity that quickly became evident, I found a sense of warmth in the way the Nepalis at the camp welcomed us. There were no cups, I cannot recall why. But the dais cut water bottles in half, and used the lower half to serve us tea with bread. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/diaspora-diaries/finding-a-niche-in-nepal">Finding a niche in Nepal</a>, Babare Bahadur Bomjan  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230528120552_326d17bbffedb8976f6d683175327188fa8674025e58a56217ba935fcbde0e53.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20230528120552_326d17bbffedb8976f6d683175327188fa8674025e58a56217ba935fcbde0e53" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="2048" loading="lazy" alt="DD 33"> </figure>  They went out of their way to feed us after our long journey as they told us about our new home. I will never forget their 4 AM hospitality. &nbsp;&nbsp; As I was brushing my teeth after waking up, uncertain about what awaited me, I heard someone shout out my name. It turns out two of my school friends were already working in the same company for two years. What were the odds, I thought. I had finished Grade 12 and landed in Dubai to work so as to better my life. I used to get jealous of the village boys who came home from bidesh every two years or so for a month to relax and splurge money. It was one of those acquaintances on vacation who had advised me to make my passport. Like other Nepali youth, this was my foreign dream. My father was getting old so I had to assume responsibility of a provider. My induction training in Dubai, even for a cleaning job, was three weeks long. I had not thought of cleaning as a professional job, but here, it was being taught like it was a science. We were not going to mindlessly scrub floors, we were required to have a deeper understanding of the chemicals and cleaning tools. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/diaspora-diaries/wounded-in-the-line-of-duty">Wounded in the line of duty</a>, Antare Khatri  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230528120552_3f46ed3a561e53d6023428e6baefce013098e025882249b8b320a2702a72c589.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20230528120552_3f46ed3a561e53d6023428e6baefce013098e025882249b8b320a2702a72c589" data-rendition-name="original" width="960" height="692" loading="lazy" alt="DD 33"> </figure>  I learnt a lot and as I scored over 80% in my assessment exam, and got placed in hotels. Those who scored lower had to work in office buildings and malls. At the hotel the manager had been secretly watching my work. He was obviously impressed because when a supervisor left he offered me the job. At just 20, I was unsure if I was up for the task as I would have to manage people significantly older than me. But I took a chance and was promoted from cleaner to supervisor. Over the next nine years in the UAE, I worked in about six hotels. I could not stay put in the same place for long because once the work would start getting repetitive, I wanted to move on to better things. From a normal hotel to a five star and subsequently to a luxury five star. I was also getting a degree in tourism on the side at an Indian-affiliated open university in Dubai. I did not manage to attend all classes because of my hectic work schedule, but I knew I needed the credentials for my future so somehow managed to complete it. My last employer in Dubai was Fairmont. Working at a five-star hotel has its perks. It is more professional, the staff is more competent. The managers had significantly better skills and experience that made you want to emulate them. There were also a lot of training opportunities. Lessons from books like Emotional Intelligence and Who Moved My Cheese? were taught in ways that injected Fairmont's values in our blood. I enjoyed my work and even got the 2018 Manager of the Year award, something I had never even dreamt would happen. 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/20230528120556_db73120f959e11e19fd626e9de4fd44c9c835ff45db50fd8ebc4f94480a4bed9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20230528120556_db73120f959e11e19fd626e9de4fd44c9c835ff45db50fd8ebc4f94480a4bed9" data-rendition-name="original" width="750" height="794" loading="lazy" alt="DD 33"> </figure>  &nbsp;At a get-together at a colleague's home, I saw a wall that was full of pictures from all over the world. I asked my friend's husband what countries he had been to. He laughed and said, "Perhaps it would be easier if you asked me what countries I have not been to." Indeed, as a flight crew, he had traveled the world. That was a turning point in my life. I had been stuck in one country for nine years, when there was a whole wide world out there. I made it a point to look for jobs that would allow me the same kind of mobility so I could broaden my horizon. Within a month, I identified a recruitment drive in Dubai for a cruise ship and passed the interview. I was to work on an Italian cruise ship as Assistant Chief Housekeeper. &nbsp;I remember the mixture of excitement and nervousness I felt when I first saw the ship at the dock: it had over 1,250 guest cabins and 800 crew cabins. It was so gigantic that when I tried to take pictures, the ship would not fit on my screen. My colleagues laughed at me saying it was a relatively small ship by industry standards and that they had worked in much bigger ones. 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/20230528120552_1a4b4d075d8cfc9262fd9564cf6213e38942bf9dc17351eac418eb35114f8c2c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20230528120552_1a4b4d075d8cfc9262fd9564cf6213e38942bf9dc17351eac418eb35114f8c2c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1293" height="1725" loading="lazy" alt="DD 33"> </figure>  Life onboard is busy. Most of our guests are older people from all over the world who have the time and the money to travel around. As we hustle around the clock, it is easy to forget that we are in the middle of the ocean because the vessel is a world of its own. It does not matter where we are, really. Whether in the middle of the desert or ocean, we are working day and night to make money and provide for our families. Regardless of land or water, our lives revolve around that one day every month when we get our salary notification in our cell phone, this is what all this hustle is about. Everything else is secondary. I have now sailed to over 45 countries across the world in 17 months. It is like reading the review of a 300-page book: you just get a little taste of what those countries have to offer. At every port stop, we get to see the few main tourist spots, visit a couple of malls and have a meal before we hop back on to continue our journey. &nbsp;I make it a point to get good Indian or Nepali food, something I miss on board. But now that I am married, I am restless again. I am not as excited about traveling and meeting new people as I have been. My longing for home, to be with family, is growing stronger by the day. I can feel my priorities shifting, and it is just a matter of time before I act on it. 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 Translated from a conversation 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.

Mountain to desert to ocean

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”

Almost two years after the war in Afghanistan ended, Nepali security guards who worked to protect the British Embassy in Kabul are still largely unemployed, facing uncertainty, and some even being <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/politics/2023/apr/03/nepalese-guards-airlifted-from-kabul-to-uk-now-face-deportation">targeted for deportation</a>.&nbsp;
One week after a raid which led to the arrest and detainment of 10 evacuees who served as guards at the British Embassy, international media attention has led the UK government to <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/uk-news/2023/apr/05/home-office-uk-nepalese-guards-afghanistan-embassy">pause deportation processing</a> and release some of the detained evacuees.
Throughout the war in Afghanistan, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/afghans-in-nepal-await-resettlement">Nepali security guards served </a>as the first lines of defence, protecting the lives of military personnel, officials, and citizens of foreign governments. They risked their lives and, in some cases, watched their friends die in the line of duty.&nbsp;
Many of the Nepali guards who worked at the British Embassy had faith that the UK government or their company, GardaWorld, would <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepali-repatriation-from-kabul-starts">evacuate them safely </a>– and they did. But their job security and income for the future of their families was completely lost.&nbsp;
Private defence contracting, the hiring of armed combat and security services by private companies, has become an increasingly common method to lower the costs of war and military interventions in the 21st century. The labour required for prolonged military interventions, such as the war in Afghanistan, is outsourced to countries such as Nepal, whose GDP relies heavily on remittances from foreign labour migration.&nbsp;
Given the legacy of the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/queen-elizabeth-the-gurkhas-and-everest">Gurkhas</a> who have been serving in the British army for more than 200 years, international private security companies supplying labour to foreign embassies in Afghanistan looked mainly to Nepalis and Indians of Nepali descent to meet the security demands, as detailed in the book Under Contract: the Invisible Workers of America’s Global War.
According to the Department of Foreign Employment, approximately 12,500 Nepali migrant workers have received non-renewed, first-time labour permits for Afghanistan since 2001. Those who took informal routes are not included in this figure.&nbsp;
For Nepali guards, many of whom are retirees from the Nepal and Indian militaries, work in Afghanistan was lucrative. Many knew it would be dangerous but lack of opportunities with comparable salary in Nepal meant that they agreed to take on the job. This also benefited the private defence companies and governments that contracted them, as Nepali guards were willing to take lower salaries.&nbsp;
Niraj, an evacuee, explained that working in Afghanistan after retirement from the army meant that he could better support his family and give his children quality education. While the evacuees interviewed said that they were happy with the salary, they knew that it was lower than what was deserved considering the conditions, risks, and duties of the job.&nbsp;
As the Taliban advanced across new territories in Afghanistan, many of the Nepali guards still did not have a full picture of what was going on. It was not until a few hours before boarding a repatriation flight that they were told of the Taliban takeover.
Nepali guards who worked at the British Embassy in Kabul guarded the compound until the last minute, after most of the British forces and officials had already been evacuated. On 15 August 2021 they boarded a Royal Air Force plane to Dubai before reaching the UK.
Upon reaching the UK, they had received 6-month emergency visas and were placed in military housing facilities. While many returned to Nepal only two days after arriving in the UK, some were able to contact immigration lawyers and secure legal pathways to stay there.&nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-and-the-taliban-s-second-coming">Nepal and the Taliban’s second coming</a>
All third country guards working at the British Embassy, including the Nepali guards who were recently targeted for deportation, had an opportunity for resettlement in the UK under the Afghan Citizens Resettlement Scheme (ACRS), as <a href="https://www.gov.uk/guidance/afghan-citizens-resettlement-scheme">listed on the UK government website</a>. The ACRS states that ‘the scheme will prioritise those who have assisted the UK efforts in Afghanistan...’
As GardaWorld contractors, Nepali security guards were eligible for indefinite leave to remain (ILR) status under Pathway 3 of the ACRS. The scheme states that ‘Pathway 3 was designed to offer a route to resettlement for those at risk who supported the UK and international community effort in Afghanistan’. However, this pathway was only open to GardaWorld contractors for the first year after evacuation.&nbsp;
It seems this opportunity for resettlement was not properly communicated to the Nepali guards. Now that the year of eligibility has passed, most missed their chance to gain ILR status. Those interviewed who did apply under the scheme were denied.&nbsp;
Things are not any better for those who returned to Nepal. In the rushed evacuations, Bibek, an evacuee who worked at the British Embassy, said that all of his belongings were lost, including his passport. Upon returning to Nepal, the guards explained, there was no follow up from GardaWorld, the British Embassy in Afghanistan, or the Government of Nepal. Those who lost their luggage or passports were not compensated or provided assistance in obtaining new documents.
Back in Nepal, the evacuees set up a Facebook group to combine their efforts in finding their lost luggage and gaining new employment. Together, they filed a formal application of complaint to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in Kathmandu.&nbsp;
The complaint had three requests: help find new employment opportunities either in Nepal or the UK, compensation for their lost luggage and documents, and compensation for loss of income. Only some were able to receive compensation for loss of income due to abrupt repatriation after negotiating with the company.&nbsp;
Juddha, a Nepali evacuee, described the company as being reluctant to provide loss of income compensation, despite it being promised in employment contracts. The evacuees did not receive any follow-up communication regarding the application of complaint they submitted to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs either. Out of the 111 Nepali guards working at the British Embassy in Afghanistan at the time of evacuation, only a handful were able to secure their pathway to a life with more opportunity in the UK.&nbsp;
“We really felt we were used and thrown,” said Bibek after his evacuation. “We were there to provide security, and we did our job dutifully… They (the British government and GardaWorld) did not empathise with what we were going through. They did not understand that we had been rendered unemployed, or that we faced an uncertain future. They could have at least asked us what we wanted.”
The very concept of employing Nepali guards to create a barrier of security to protect British citizens inside the Embassy implies that these guards’ lives are somehow more dispensable than British citizens. The blatant disregard for their well-being after the evacuation only adds to this notion of the dispensability of the guards in the eyes of GardaWorld and the British government.&nbsp;
“We need support in the form of employment either in Nepal or in the UK because we need to look after our families. At present, many of us are past the age to find fresh employment. We feel really victimised,” added Bibek. Manish, another evacuee, is worried about his children, who would have a good future in the UK.&nbsp;
Instead of feeling “used and thrown”, these evacuees should feel respected, appreciated, and honored for the vital role they played in protecting peoples’ lives in the war in Afghanistan.&nbsp;
After all they have endured, at the very least, the Home Office of the UK needs to provide an explanation as to why those few guards who were able to secure a pathway to stay in the UK were treated as though they had done something illegal and threatened with deportation.&nbsp;
Further, all the security guards who risked their lives to protect the British Embassy should be given the opportunity to attain gainful employment to be able to provide for their families.
Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/afghan-women-expose-taliban-atrocities">Afghan women expose Taliban atrocities</a>

Jenna Mae Biedscheid

‘Used and thrown’

This is the 26th instalment of Diaspora Diaries, a regular series in Nepali Times with stories of Nepalis living and working abroad I grew up in a lahure household in Dharan and my parents were in the military abroad and were good providers. But life took a different track when I was married at 15, and sent off to my husband's &nbsp;village in Jhapa.For someone raised in freedom and comfort, being a daughter-in-law in a conservative household was challenging. Wearing a kurta or speaking to neighbours was frowned upon. As a buhari daughter-in-law, I was kept out of any family decision-making. My day would start at 3AM and I was busy throughout with non-stop household work. By 17, I had my first child, and later two more.&nbsp; The family I was married to was well off in terms of property, but was consistently cash-strapped. It was a weird reality, we were poor and struggling to make ends meet while sitting on large tracts of land. I relied often on my maternal family for financial support. 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/20230310060340_de400c76a82b6af0f8a764f6963c1bc5a0b8a8bf0348bf3426e7ef684317e48c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20230310060340_de400c76a82b6af0f8a764f6963c1bc5a0b8a8bf0348bf3426e7ef684317e48c" data-rendition-name="original" width="959" height="610" loading="lazy" alt="DD 26"> </figure>  I felt the real pain of being cash poor when my eldest daughter, a special needs child, passed away at a young age. This was the pre-mobile era and my mother-in-law was traveling in Pokhara. Not having the money to pay for her last rites, I left my daughters body in the verandah and ran to a shop to sell my jewelry. I will never forget this moment. This must have inculcated in me a desire to work for money. But what work would I do in Nepal with no education? My expenses were rising as my other two children were growing up. The everyday struggle to earn enough to pay for basics was frustrating. So I decided to try for overseas employment and managed to collect enough money with the help of my family, and by selling the remaining jewelry paid for a job in Israel as a caregiver. At that time, migration to Israel was not as well managed as it is now under the government program. The manpower agencies facilitated the recruitment based on how much you paid them. I was probably one of the few migrants who did not cry at the airport. What I was doing was for my children’s secure future, I did not have a choice but to be strong. I felt more comfortable leaving my children with my mother in Dharan. As a lahure child, I had visited the UK but did not have much memory of it. So Israel as an adult was fascinating. Even little things like rotating the shower handle to get hot or cold water was new and amusing. I was placed in a wonderful family. The elderly lady I took care of was in her 80s, and kept reminding me how I was like a daughter she had never had. She had four sons. I found a guardian’s love with her. Compared to the household work I was doing back in Jhapa, the job in Israel actually felt easier because my boju was elderly and needed rest. My day started only at 7 and by 12, she would need a four hour nap, and by 7PM in the evening, she would call it a day. I had to cook only once every three days because the family had a system of freezing food. &nbsp;Not only was the work relatively easy, I was getting paid up to $1,200 a month. My Israeli boju used to tell me how I was her 15th caregiver, and the only one with whom she was able to develop a rapport and feel comfortable with. 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/20230310060316_e71c12fad0d7d91fbd557d98d8e026093a0b8570faa489959f4260f701b714ab.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20230310060316_e71c12fad0d7d91fbd557d98d8e026093a0b8570faa489959f4260f701b714ab" data-rendition-name="original" width="720" height="481" loading="lazy" alt="Caring for her own and others NT"> <figcaption>My Israeli boju who was like family for 5 years.</figcaption> </figure>  The only downside was that I was home all the time and seldom went anywhere, and only hung out with two other Nepalis in the community. Tel Aviv was 90 minutes away and I did not feel like travelling even though I had family there. Other than finances, there was not much I picked up in Israel. Boju often pleaded with me not to leave Israel until she died. I did not have a reason to go back, I was sending money home and I was happy in the family. I naturally got close to her and we had personal conversations. She knew her end was close, and would often express how she feared dying in pain and instead wanted to die peacefully in her sleep. One morning, when boju did not ask me for water at 7 as she usually did, I knew something was wrong. She was quiet and non-responsive. By the time we called the ambulance and her family, she had passed, peacefully, just like she had wanted. I mourned the loss of a guardian, and not just as an employee. Such is the work of a caregiver. The seniors die. Babies grow up. But both are people in such vulnerable ages that it is very easy to get personally attached to them. Having spent more than five years with boju in Israel, I did not know what was next. I had crossed the period when I could legally change jobs and I did not want to return home as I had to take care of my children. So in 2011, I did what someone in my position without a choice does. I carried on as an undocumented worker, knowing the risks. I found a good family. But Israeli authorities soon found out that I was breaking the rules, and came to the house knocking loudly at the door when my employers were away. Hiding or escaping was not an option as it felt like they were going to break down the door. They helped me pack and took me to a detention centre. Ten days later, I was escorted by them right up to the plane and sent home. While I was in detention, my boju’s grandson came to see me. He told authorities that I was like family and he would send me home in dignity, but that he didn’t want my last memory in Israel to be bitter. The authorities refused, but treated me well. I would be banned from Israel, and if I visit again it can only be as a tourist. Back in Nepal, it was impossible for me to stay idle. I had got too used to earning money. I thought of Korea next and started studying for the exam. But given the uncertainty, I came to Turkey instead through a manpower agency. I had to pay Rs400,000 for the job which only paid €350 a month. This was much lower than what I was earning in Israel, but what choice did I have? Over the years, my salary has increased and I now make €1,200 a month, taking care of two babies. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/turning-the-desert-green/">Turning the desert green</a>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230310060316_054c7febbc74f8311266156aa20395d22ddbf4d986747e460fc2b66b38ae9de5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20230310060316_054c7febbc74f8311266156aa20395d22ddbf4d986747e460fc2b66b38ae9de5" data-rendition-name="original" width="753" height="879" loading="lazy" alt="Caring for her own and others NT"> </figure>  Since 2017, Turkey has seen more Nepalis, and we have organised ourselves better. I am now Vice President of the NRNA Turkey and during times of crisis like the recent earthquake, we rally together to support those affected. We provided support to Nepali students, although they were not injured their hostels were deemed unsafe to live in and were kept in shelters. We sent them as well as other Turkish people affected by the earthquake some financial support. We got contributions from all over the world including from my friend, a Nepali caregiver I met and became close with in Israel, who is now in the US. My daughter became a registered nurse in Australia a few months back. I am proud of her and also of myself because the odds were really stacked against us. I, too, was a class topper back in Dharan, but life had different plans for me. I paid for my daughter’ expenses growing up, including her studies in Australia. I brought my son to Turkey as he needed more parental guidance. I hope my story reminds other women how much we are capable of, if we trust ourselves. The adversaries I have faced as a woman and a mother in Nepal’s patriarchal society is by no means unique. If I had not taken a few bold decisions for the well-being of my children or rebelled against societal expectations, our reality probably would have been different. Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/prisoners-of-the-green-passport/"> Prisoners of the Green Passport</a>, Mahendra Thulung Rai  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230310060316_a1b9423bb9d9cb0f4c681f773ce9f7be2f29ebf582472b36355fe59b122a3970.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20230310060316_a1b9423bb9d9cb0f4c681f773ce9f7be2f29ebf582472b36355fe59b122a3970" data-rendition-name="original" width="720" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="Caring for her own and others NT"> </figure>  I have been lucky with the employers I have been placed with both in Turkey and Israel. Not all fellow Nepalis in other parts of the world are as fortunate. Even then, being a foreigner always makes you a second class citizen, with many rights inaccessible and more importantly, you are under the control of the employer with whom your immigration status is tied. I found out that in Turkey you can apply for citizenship after working for five years. I now hold a Turkish passport, perhaps the first Nepali caregiver who has transitioned here. I went that route because a documentation status, can free you from being under another person’s control and change your reality, and your sense of freedom and control. My dream is to eventually open a Nepali restaurant in Turkey, primarily targeting Nepali caregivers but also to promote Nepali food among locals. I remember when I first came to Turkey, my employers never had rice. There was chicken, bread, vegetables and cheese, but no dal bhat. After a few weeks, I asked her if we could have rice and she was taken by surprise because she had been feeding me well, what her family ate. For my employer, rice was both unhealthy and relatively more expensive. But she did some online research and realised Nepalis need dal bhat and started providing it. For Nepalis missing dal bhat in Turkey like I did, the restaurant that I want to start will hopefully bring home a little closer. 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 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.

Caring for her own and others

This is the 24th instalment of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/nt/here-now/diaspora-diaries/">Diaspora Diaries</a>, a regular series in Nepali Times with stories of Nepalis living and working abroad. [dropcap]O[/dropcap]ne of my earliest memories growing up in Butwal is my maternal uncle coming home with cakes on our birthdays. He ran a bakery and his arrival with cakes and other tasty pastries during festivities made me associate the profession with joy and good memories. Perhaps this is what instaled a passion for baking since my early childhood. Like my uncle, I also wanted to bring joy to others. From Butwal, I went to Kathmandu for further studies and an undergraduate in hotel management was a natural choice. My uncle had taught me things practically and a formal education pushed me to understand the theory behind what I had seen and learnt in his bakery while growing up. I chose baking as my specialisation. When Covid-19 hit, I immersed myself completely into the art of baking, and kept myself busy. I had moved back to Butwal and worked at my uncle’s bakery. The lockdown and closing of the world had made time available in abundance and I found ways to stay productive. From a loyal customer in my uncle’s bakery as a little girl, I had now transitioned to become his protégé, baking cakes in the mornings and bread in the evenings. It came naturally to me, and I realised that this is what I want to do all my life. Baking is exciting because it combines dedication, creativity and patience, and can transform seemingly familiar household items that are lying around in the kitchen like flour, oil and sugar to rise into mouth-watering delicacies. I particularly like preparing birthday cakes because it allows me to indirectly contribute to and become part of peoples’ lives and celebration. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/turning-the-desert-green/">Turning the desert green</a>  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230303150320_267981e4e01c806b8d419798715b1067221059d8cb46ce69d899bd5edcdef0eb.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20230303150320_267981e4e01c806b8d419798715b1067221059d8cb46ce69d899bd5edcdef0eb" data-rendition-name="original" width="1901" height="1533" loading="lazy" alt="Baking as a metaphor for life NT 2"></figure>  When things started getting repetitive at my uncle’s bakery, I moved back to Kathmandu and took up internships at Yak &amp; Yeti and the Marriott. These short-term stints were enjoyable, but what I really wanted was an actual job, and like all Nepalis, I was faced with the dilemma of staying back or leaving. Having worked in Nepal in different places already, I felt like an overseas job had more to offer by way of learning, and would give me exposure. A job advertisement for a vacancy at the Atlantis in Dubai in my college social media group caught my eyes. The ‘free visa free ticket’ scheme as advertised felt like a scam, since most recruiting agencies falsely advertise such offers despite charging workers exorbitantly. But when I asked around, I found out that the job facilitated by my recruiter, Vision and Value Overseas, indeed was free and the aspirants were not charged a single penny. This was too good to be true. Perks like these and the possibility of working at a luxury hotel made the choice to try for an overseas job easy and exciting. I applied, and the recruitment fair was conveniently held at the Yak &amp; Yeti, the hotel where I was working on a temporary contract. But my heart sank when I did not see my name in the list of selected candidates. Two months later, however, I successfully passed the interview round in another ethical recruitment drive for the same hotel by the same recruiter for which I had prepared more seriously. Until then, I had not told anyone that I had applied for overseas jobs. My baker uncle was the first person I consulted with when I had the offer, and he encouraged me to pursue my overseas dream. Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/prisoners-of-the-green-passport/"> Prisoners of the Green Passport</a>, Mahendra Thulung Rai  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230303150320_5322ce4f8213bd190624aa3dc0be6d67ce2db8bea1b7c30ce206432a902c0a27.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20230303150320_5322ce4f8213bd190624aa3dc0be6d67ce2db8bea1b7c30ce206432a902c0a27" data-rendition-name="original" width="1672" height="1700" loading="lazy" alt="Baking as a metaphor for life NT 3"></figure>  It has been four months since I came here to Dubai, but I have already learnt a lot. I get to work with colleagues from diverse backgrounds, but it is also humbling to know that despite the language and cultural differences, we are all the same. Whether from Mexico, Ukraine or Nepal, we are here in search of better learning and earning opportunities with hopes of improving our lives and pursuing our passions. There is a strong emphasis on soft skills like team work and communications. While there were language barriers initially, I think my English has now vastly improved. As someone new here, I am still in my learning phase but then again, when does learning really stop? I may have learnt how to make bread in Nepal, for example, but am also exploring new methods to do so in the UAE as there are differences in the ingredients used and procedures followed. Hygiene, in particular, is of incomparable standards in the kitchen here. I also have it easier than many because my own brother and a cousin also work together in another hotel in the UAE as bartenders. Having a support system of family members overseas has definitely helped me adjust here. I earn six to seven times more than what I did in Nepal, and am able to send support to my mother and sometimes, even to my grandparents, even though they are reluctant to accept what I send. At this luxury hotel, it is common to see high profile visitors, even though waiters and those in customer facing roles get to interact with them more than we in kitchen who are behind the curtains. But I was fortunate enough to watch a Beyoncé show during our hotel opening. It was exciting beyond words. My ultimate dream is to become a Pastry Chef, but as a Commis III, I still have a long way to go. My journey has just begun. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/speaking-the-language-of-overseas-work/">Speaking the language of overseas work</a> Translated from a phone conversation 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.

Baking as a metaphor for life

Architecture can be a powerful agent of change, shaping not just spaces but the way people live, connect, and experience the world.&nbsp; For Nepal, which is <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/natures-fragile-gift-to-nepal">gifted by nature</a> and rich in <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/ambassador-fund-cultural-preservation-nepal,2092">cultural heritage</a>, &nbsp;reviving rural architecture with modern amenities could hold the key to more <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/what-sustainable-tourism-means-in-practice">sustainable tourism </a>that benefits local people more. “<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/bayalpata-hospital-in-nepal-wins-global-design-award">Design and architecture</a> are amazing tools to create a unique experience for visitors,” says Spanish architect Tomeu Esteva of Esteva i Esteva Architecture Studio. “Difficult destinations have beautiful hotels with design and comfort.” Esteva was in Kathmandu with his colleagues at an event organised by the Spanish Honorary Consulate at Dwarika’s Hotel last week to showcase buildings which Nepali architects can adapt with local material and design inputs.&nbsp; Rural architecture holds a unique significance: it is more than a shelter and must reflect <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/inking-an-idenity">local identity, culture</a> and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/saving-humla-from-heritage-loss">heritage</a>. An area’s natural and cultural harmony can be upset by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/protecting-protected-areas-from-infrastructure?fbclid=IwAR1wK0MDFlFST_2EYb3f54LS4-fPt6rYfLG1DJ1JaQsU3w8-ezyXIxGOqzk">poorly planned development</a>, speakers at the event said, but the environment can be improved and revitalised by well-integrated structures.&nbsp; Another Spanish architect, Belen Moneo, has designed hotels at elevations of 3,700m in her home country Spain that supply natural spring water spas. “<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/lost-in-reconstruction">Creativity in construction</a> must be encouraged. Rural architecture always shows possibilities of what we can do better,” Moneo explains, adding that designs must enhance <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/the-healing-power-of-nature">the beauty of nature</a> and give a natural feel at a time when steel, glass and cement dominate <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/rebuilding-kathmandu-after-the-1934-quake">urban design</a>.&nbsp; This is why the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/weaving-nature-into-craft">use of natural products</a> such as bamboo, local timber, straw and rammed earth are in demand from customers who want a fresh eco-friendly look encouraged in construction of rural architectural structures. The demand for boutique hotels has increased world over, with &nbsp;more and more tourists favouring aesthetics, experience and comfort over price. While creativity is an important part of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/architecture-for-mountains">construction and architecture</a>, incentives to build and use <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Building,370">rural construction materials</a> still remain minimal, and Moneo emphasises the significance of design and execution.&nbsp; Esteva helped design the Vana Retreat in Dehradun that kept the natural environment in focus, with the structure giving an elaborate aesthetic experience to visitors. Another example is Hotel Las Mercedes in the Dominican Republic which was designed and constructed by Moneo and the company she co-founded Moneo Brock, respecting and revaluing the traditional architecture of the area. Hotels providing such experience could attract tourists and revenue. The Spanish ambassador to Nepal Juan Antonio March Pujol said, “The role of architecture and architects in developing tourism is crucial, not only in urban areas but rural settings as well.”&nbsp; The concept of rural boutique hotels gained traction in Spain during the 1990s, particularly in regions like Majorca with economic and environmental sustainability as the main focus. In Nepal <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/12-full-opinion/guiding-nepal-s-tourism-industry">the tourism industry</a> directly employs about 1 million people, and makes up about 8% of the country’s GDP. In Nepal, the stone homes of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/reviving-himalayan-vulture-and-culture">Mustang and Manang</a>, bamboo and mud structures of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-tarai-s-shrinking-forests">the Tarai</a>, and the Kathmandu Valley’s terra cotta tile skylines, graceful temples, and tranquil bahal courtyards are all examples of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-traditional-seismic-resistant-designs">Nepal’s traditional architecture</a>.&nbsp; Nepali architect Sarosh Pradhan has been working for the past eight years on the Brakka Village project in Manang Valley north of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/municipalities-want-to-manage-annapurna">the Annapurnas</a>. Other examples of this kind of rural architecture for high-end tourism are the Shinta Mani Hotel in Mustang and Khumbu Lodge below <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/mt-everest-pvt-ltd">Mt Everest</a>. Says Pradhan, “There are places in Nepal that radiate purity and embrace simplicity. Creating projects in such settings require deep reflection and thoughtful planning.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250421030444_a07a23f6b60fa89c0f35b9dc1aaf19937da4881e6bfb2e1858f3c27dff91729f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_19" data-image-id="20250421030444_a07a23f6b60fa89c0f35b9dc1aaf19937da4881e6bfb2e1858f3c27dff91729f" data-rendition-name="original" width="4608" height="2184" loading="lazy" alt="A new architecture for Nepal's tourism"> </figure>  Rural architecture is not easy, and sometimes more expensive. Inflation, energy efficiency, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/those-who-stay">the climate crisis</a>, and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/cost-of-living-in-a-big-city">increased costs of living</a> pose obstacles to sustainable rural architecture. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/forgotten-international-starchitects-in-nepal">Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal</a>, Anne Feenstra and Varun S Bapu Esteva says faith and trust between client and architect is necessary for any project to be successful. He adds that architects must practice being humble, the process of designing always involves learning and not imposing their ideas on clients. Nepal is uniquely positioned for the growth of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/hiking-up-the-benefits-of-tourism">rural tourism</a> because of its stunning countryside as well as its internationally renowned traditions in holistic wellness. Creating infrastructure that is small, thoughtfully planned and that respects both tradition and contemporary hospitality standards is crucial. “Projects in Nepal can be made cost effective by using materials from houses that have been brought down,” says Esteva. “Pilot projects involving <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/local-government-by-the-people-for-the-people-of-the-people">local people </a>and simple designing also helps the process.” <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/vacant-homes-become-homestays-in-nepal">The growth of homestays in Nepal</a> is a step in the right direction, but they are still a bit too rustic for the international traveller who also wants comfort and is willing to pay extra for it. Upgrading the facilities in homestays and ensuring that the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/an-archive-of-nepali-heritage">architectural heritage</a> of the locality is preserved using locally sourced building material could allow owners to charge more. Says Sangita Shrestha of Dwarika’s Hotel, “Our effort is to build upon rural architecture by empowering local communities and using what is available locally. We can fine tune and encourage indigenous design and training.” The vision goes beyond just boosting the economy, it is about building a future where tourism helps villages grow in a healthy and lasting way. Instead of using up resources, it gives back to the land and the people. It supports local communities by<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/staying-in-nepal-to-create-jobs"> creating jobs</a>, improving infrastructure, and protecting natural beauty. When done right, tourism can be a tool for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/progress-and-or-preservation">preserving culture and nature</a>, not harming them. Architects must therefore see their work as more than just designing buildings, they also need to care deeply about people and places, especially in rural areas that can benefit the most.&nbsp; With global interest in sustainable and off-the-beaten-path travel increasing, Nepal stands at the cusp of a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/missing-out-on-nepal-s-tourism-potential">tourism transformation</a> that values community-driven, eco-conscious hospitality. A mix of modern ideas and traditional knowledge could transform rural tourism in Nepal. Says Shrestha, “Young architects should spend time with <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/latest/the-unsung-heroes-of-conservation">local and indigenous communities</a>, listen to their stories, and learn from their <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/life-and-livelihood-in-remote-nepal">ways of living</a>. These communities have deep knowledge about the land, materials, and climate. If this wisdom is used in new designs, it can help create tourism spaces that truly benefit everyone.” &nbsp;

A new architecture for Nepal's tourism

Extract from an addendum to Nepal's Two Wars, Chapter 2 in the updated edition of Essays on Nepal: Past and Present by Sam Cowan, a retired British Army general with a long association with the Gurkhas. The book was first published in 2018, and republished earlier this month by FinePrint exclusively on Amazon. The addendum details a one-to-one conversation the author had in the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=8884">Royal Palace </a>with the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=8371">King Gyanendra</a> in November 2002 just after he had taken his initial steps on the road that ultimately led to <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=14681">the abolition of the monarchy</a> in Nepal in 2008. In the early evening of September 16, 2002, in my role as Colonel Commandant of the Brigade of Gurkhas, I had my second and last official audience with King Gyanendra to give him an update on the Brigade’s activities over the previous 12 months. I had some 6 or 7 such audiences with <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/preserving-king-birendra-s-family-home">King Birendra</a>.&nbsp; These were official affairs with the British ambassador of the day present, along with key <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=12233">palace officials</a> and a representative from Nepal's Foreign Ministry. The two monarchs were very different in character and temperament, but both treated me with the utmost civility and made the audiences as relaxed and easy for me as possible.&nbsp; It is, however, worth recording that when the official business had been covered, King Birendra, with a twinkle in his eye, often ended by asking, “Now General, what’s the gossip in London?” The second audience with <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=8026">King Gyanendra </a>was my last official act in uniform. We came back to Kathmandu in the first week of November (after treks) to stay for a few nights with our Defence Attaché before heading back to the UK. Waiting for me was a message from the Palace saying that King Gyanendra would like to meet me informally: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=6933">no uniform</a> and no ambassador.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250421080420_f9046f9882d4481781d14f2b64f18c7fbbea62562e1d74e3465de6d01fb43750.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20250421080420_f9046f9882d4481781d14f2b64f18c7fbbea62562e1d74e3465de6d01fb43750" data-rendition-name="original" width="1750" height="2406" loading="lazy" alt="Gyanendra crowned page 1"> <figcaption>Nepali Times Special Edition of 6-14 June 2001 with enthronement of Gyanendra. </figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250421080424_21333d6ae21828eb47fe3f849438d215fe2804460d47bb2896ef4aee4e895ad2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250421080424_21333d6ae21828eb47fe3f849438d215fe2804460d47bb2896ef4aee4e895ad2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1857" loading="lazy" alt="Royal massacre"> <figcaption>Nepali Times 22-29 June 2001 covering the royal massacre after which Gyanendra became king. </figcaption> </figure>  Although I had no idea what the purpose of the meeting might be, events in Kathmandu since I last saw the king put me on edge. On October 4, 2002, Gyanendra had dismissed Prime Minister Sher Bahadur Deuba, allegedly for failing to hold <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/what-goes-on-in-nepal-s-elections">elections</a>. He had put in place a new prime minister and a cabinet personally selected by him. When I heard the news on my travels, the people I met were generally supportive of the king’s actions. There was a general view that something had to be done, the country was going nowhere, and the king deserved his chance, not least to solve<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/latest/14-years-after-conflict-no-closure-in-nepal"> the Maoist </a>problem. Back in Kathmandu, views were not so sanguine. The chosen prime minister, Lokendra Bahadur Chand, was a relic from <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/mob-movement-and-mayhem">the Panchayat period</a> whose party had failed to win a single seat in the last elections held in 1999. Some of the chosen cabinet ministers had, to put it mildly, dubious reputations, and others had no record of proven competence in any field. There was a fear that the king’s real motive in dismissing <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/deubas-denouement">Deuba</a> was to start to reverse the democratic gains made since 1990. I informed <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-britain-mark-centenary-of-1923-treaty">the British ambassador</a> about the invitation. He was strongly against accepting it, which was probably the clinching reason for my decision to do the polite thing and accept it. On the evening of November 7, 2002, I presented myself at the royal palace, alone and in civilian attire.&nbsp; As in the past, the Military Secretary, Major General Vivek Shah, met and escorted me into the presence of the monarch. This time, however, he was politely asked to leave the room and shut the door behind him. King Gyanendra greeted me warmly and invited me to sit down.&nbsp; Read also:<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-ghost-of-monarchy-returns-to-haunt-nepal"> The ghost of monarchy returns to haunt Nepal</a>, Shristi Karki  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250421080424_e382af945d0ad2a04ae41fabe5393f793dd10f54cb1220f111c7c9e7423eb558.jpg" data-media-id="editor_15" data-image-id="20250421080424_e382af945d0ad2a04ae41fabe5393f793dd10f54cb1220f111c7c9e7423eb558" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="993" loading="lazy" alt="Gyanendra coup"> <figcaption>Nepali Times 4-10 February 2005 after king Gyanendra's coup imposed media censorship. anendra became king. </figcaption> </figure>  I had wondered, and to be truthful, had worried, not just about the purpose of the meeting, but about how the conversation might start and develop. I reduced my resolve to two points: be polite but speak candidly. The latter resolve was quickly put to the test with the king’s opening words: “Sam, [in previous meetings it had been ‘General’, you walk the highways and byways of this land more than most, tell me what the common man is thinking?” &nbsp;“Your Majesty, I have no idea what they are thinking, but they are waiting.” “Waiting?” “Yes, Your Majesty, they are waiting to see whether what you did some weeks ago in appointing your own prime minister and cabinet ministers is going to make any difference to their lives or whether it is just going to be more Kathmandu hot air.” “Everything is going to be difficult and is going to take time, a lot of time.” “Your Majesty, time is the one thing you don’t have. You must act quickly and decisively to take advantage of the opportunity you have created. Everyone knows that you have appointed these new ministers. Why don’t you get them in here one by one and tell them that they have three months to deliver a programme in their area of responsibility that is going to make a difference to people’s lives? Most will fail to do so. Sack them! It will be a powerful signal of your strong intent to deliver real change.” I can express the opening of our conversation in this way because just about every word is still etched in my mind. The king’s response to my last quoted words was to challenge me to give an example of something that could be delivered quickly. I can give a verbatim record of what I said in response to this unexpected challenge: “Health posts, Your Majesty, there is no shortage of them throughout the country as building them has been one of the sources of local corruption, but very few have any medicine to issue at present or have skilled people to assess and meet medical needs. Your Majesty, children are dying for lack of a few pills. Given the right priority, over a period, say of six months, every health post could be fully stocked with medicine and manned with trained people. This is something I could help to lead for you as I know it would have strong international backing. At last, people would know that you mean business.” As I warmed to the theme, I could see no sign of the king having any enthusiasm for the idea, and I quickly disengaged as it dawned on me, as it had clearly dawned on the king, that the reason for the deficiencies in health posts was to prevent any Maoist combatant from gaining access to any <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/tech-away/nepal-s-health-tech-industry-is-here-to-stay">medical support</a>, and if this meant people suffering, so be it. The subject of the Maoist insurgency inevitably came up, and I took the opportunity to elaborate on what is written in the final four paragraphs of the article above. I advised King Gyanendra that, self-evidently, since there were three parties in the conflict—him, the Maoists, and the political parties—it was imperative that he form an alliance with one of them, preferably the political parties; otherwise, he would find himself isolated, as the other two parties would inevitably, at some stage, form their own alliance. However, it quickly became apparent that the king’s mind was on a totally different track. On the Maoists, he told me that he had channels open to them, but he was scathing about the political party leaders. He made it clear that they would be waiting for a very long time before he gave any power back to them, and that is a polite way of expressing the actual words he used, but “crawling through the door” is a phrase which has stuck in my mind.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250421080424_5403455ff6168f0d202a96cb53edea69136d74d59b989cfcc7cc4a1d57672cb5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_17" data-image-id="20250421080424_5403455ff6168f0d202a96cb53edea69136d74d59b989cfcc7cc4a1d57672cb5" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1317" loading="lazy" alt="fall of monarchy"> <figcaption>Nepali Times 28 April-3 May 2005 with cover image by Ajay Joshi of jubilant protesters after street demonstrations sidelined king Gyanendra, paving the way for a ceasfire and restoration of democracy. </figcaption> </figure>  As the conversation developed, it became ever clearer that King Gyanendra had decided to go in alone, relying on the misleading assurances he was constantly receiving from <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=14954">the army</a>, and no doubt his close advisers, that the Maoists could and would be quickly defeated militarily, and taken out of the equation. This would obviate the need for him to do any deal with the political parties.&nbsp; Thus, the way would be clear for him to establish a version of his father’s Panchayat system, under a constitution that would be granted to the people by him, their sovereign, as his father and brother had done in 1962 and 1990. As in those constitutions, ultimate power would have remained in the sovereign’s hands. This proposed direction of travel was very clear from what the king said to me. In sum, King Gyanendra was motivated by a desire to emulate his immediate predecessors by granting his people a constitution that would restore his father’s Panchayat system in a modern form and give him a central role in decision-making. What was particularly dispiriting was that beyond this single objective he had no plan worthy of the name, nor demonstrably did he have the people with the skills to implement an appropriate plan even if one had existed. Crucially and depressingly, there was little or no indication from the king that he realised that such a course of action could put Nepal’s monarchy into serious jeopardy, as indeed proved to be the case. <h2>King Twice</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250420110436_315d519fe3d68d2406ebe1480fed54720fbf21b8907a4da5cde751fdc623d445.jpg" data-media-id="editor_19" data-image-id="20250420110436_315d519fe3d68d2406ebe1480fed54720fbf21b8907a4da5cde751fdc623d445" data-rendition-name="original" width="1302" height="632" loading="lazy" alt="“Tell me what the common man is thinking!”"> </figure>  <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=8371">Gyanendra Bir Bikram Shah has been king twice</a>. In 1950 he was enthroned briefly as a child king (left, above) by the Rana Prime Minister Mohan Shumsher when his grandfather, King Tribhuvan, fled to exile in India. In 2001 he was crowned king again after the massacre in the royal palace in which his brother King Birendra and nine other members of his family were killed by Crown Prince Dipendra.&nbsp; During his second reign, Gyanendra gradually asserted power by sacking Prime Minister Sher Bahadur Deuba in 2002, and then taking full control after the 1 February 2005 coup. He was sidelined after the ceasefire in April 2006, and became a commoner after the Constituent Assembly finally <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/from-nepali-press/Ftnp-abolishing,624">abolished the monarchy in 2008</a>. In the past year, Gyanendra has tried to exploit public dissatisfaction with the political parties to restore the monarchy.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250421080432_26ef4a4b0e3cee9fdc6794446702efe16550d293904b4f6dd46fe35d4d10c788.jpg" data-media-id="editor_22" data-image-id="20250421080432_26ef4a4b0e3cee9fdc6794446702efe16550d293904b4f6dd46fe35d4d10c788" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Essays on Nepal by Sam Cowen"> </figure>

“Tell me what the common man is thinking!”

“It's Kathmandu.” Just as the family was sitting down for one of its extended lunches, that jubilant cry was from François Driard’s grandfather announcing the next posting for his diplomat parents.&nbsp; Driard (pictured) was 18 in the summer of 1996,<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/suburban-tales/chasing-a-nomad"> a bit of a hippie</a> already, and his life was about to change forever with the magical word “<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/time-capsule-of-kathmandu">Kathmandu</a>”. “I was awed with that information from my grandfather, nothing else mattered … In France <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/tales-of-courage-and-suffering-cx95f89e">in the 1990s</a>, Kathmandu had a mythical aura,” Driard recalls. He came to Kathmandu for Christmas that year to visit his stepfather, the French Ambassador Michel Lummaux. It was to be the first of many visits during school holidays, before he decided to permanently settle down in Nepal. “Kathmandu, and Nepal, were very different then, it was magical, I liked the nature, the people, civilisation, temples, trees,” says Driard, who explored the country sitting on the top of buses. “Visitors talk about the crazy <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/cost-of-living-in-a-big-city">urbanisation</a>, traffic jams today, and all that is true. But Kathmandu has not <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/loss-of-soul-and-soil">lost its soul</a>.” After his stepfather’s tenure in Nepal ended, Driard worked as a business reporter for international publications but decided he did not want to be anyone’s employee anymore. In 2007 he landed in Kathmandu with €20,000 in savings to invest.&nbsp; He knew a few crucial things about himself: he liked food and nature, which is very much tied up with his upbringing--full of lively conversations during lunch and dinner at the family table between <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepals-yak-cheese-is-on-world-map">abundant cheese, wine and cigars</a>. So he decided it would be cheese, and registered Himalayan French Cheese and went to the French Alps for a month to learn how to make Tomme de Savoie. “<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-story-of-langtang-cheese">Cheese making is such an ancient craft </a>and so I thought I won’t need much money or studying which I hated and indeed, if you have a tamako bhado and fire you are set,” explains Driard. But Nepal’s temperature and humidity were not ideal, even at higher altitudes. The first customers for his cheese were the Hyatt Regency and Nina and Hager. But he needed to create a market for cheese in a country which only knew hard churpi in the north and soft paneer in the south. He started selling his cheeses at the Summit Hotel weekend market, expanding to his own 1905 Farmer’s Market which later moved to Le Sherpa in Maharajganj, where it is now, and also a market at Labim Mall in Pulchok. He had cow dairies in Nuwakot and Dhulikhel, and finally a yak cheese unit at 3,379m in Ramechhap. It was the yak blue cheese from here that went on to win a Gold Medal in France, putting Nepal’s French cheese on the world map. “People come and try our cheese at the market, they ask questions. There is a lot of education to be done about cheese,” adds Driard, who also has three cheese shops in the Valley. Driard now makes 25 types of cheese. The products are being noticed and every year he has French students coming to Nepal to learn the art of yak cheese making. “In France, one family or company makes one kind of cheese for generations. In that I’m very unique as a cheese artisan,” he says. “The students come in to learn but I tell them to also teach us something too, add another cheese to my collection.” Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/langtang-after-10-years">Langtang after 10 years</a>, Sonia Awale Being a foodie, Driard is now also dabbling in meat with his own charcuterie at Meatini with bacon, ham, sausage and pâtés. All of this is now served at his Emilio’s Pizza, a leafy hideaway in Lazimpat. His South Side in Moksh is probably the smallest wine bar in the world. “I call the process sublime,” says Driard of his ventures, which have grown organically. “You need the same temperature and humidity of 12°C and 80% for cheese, meat and wine.” Emilio’s speciality is the eight-cheese pizza (which has eight types of cheeses), and a pizza with bhutan topping (not the country but fried intestines and organs Nepali-style). He has opened a small branch at Courtyard in Pokhara.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250426070456_bacae302c040dc18eeecdeafda72ddf06a6d2cec138ea9be7e45fe94cdf8b5b3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250426070456_bacae302c040dc18eeecdeafda72ddf06a6d2cec138ea9be7e45fe94cdf8b5b3" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="8 cheese pizza"> <figcaption>Eight-cheese pizza</figcaption> </figure>  With two artisanal cheese units, two farmers’ markets, a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-meat-of-the-story">meat processing unit</a>, a bakery, and wine bar he now envisions a vineyard so he can add Nepali wine to his repertoire. Another future plan is to start up an agri-tourism business where customers can drink, eat and work in peace. In the past 20 years in Nepal, Driard has not always succeeded in his ventures but this hasn’t curbed his enthusiasm. He is learning as he goes, and like an old wine, Nepal is growing on him. Its slowness suits his French art de vivre with eating slowly outdoors, having conversation, importing less.&nbsp; “I have proven that with even a little money you can do a lot of things in Nepal,” adds Driard. “In the West, they easily invest half a million euros on a cheese factory, I invested 10 times less.”&nbsp;

Fromage, vin et charcuterie Népalais

Bhuthan भुठान starts with Bishnu Bahadur KC played by <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/dhuwa-smoke-telefilm,2671">Hari Bansha Acharya</a> on a call, requesting to speak to the visa officer. By this point, he had <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-should-now-allow-visa-on-arrival">applied for a visa </a>to Bhutan 10 times, but was denied each time. KC was a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-women-excel-in-sports-in-2024-z9ramyct">national football player </a>in Bhutan in 1988 before he and other Nepali-speaking Lhotsampa people were forced out of the country in the 1990s as part of the Druk regime’s ‘One Nation One People’ campaign. Over 100,000 Bhutanese Nepalis were forced out, driven across India and dumped in Nepal where they lived in seven<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/elderly-left-in-bhutan-refugee-camp"> refugee camps</a> supervised by the United Nations and other charities until they were resettled in the United States, Australia, New Zealand and some European countries starting in 2007. In the fictional movie with the satirical English title The World’s Happiest Man, KC has resettled in the state of Ohio in the US but wishes to visit his home country once before he dies. Between flashbacks, we learn KC has died without having fulfilled his wish. &nbsp; The drama then focuses on KC’s two families from two marriages as they debate whether to cremate him as per <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/from-nepali-press/muslim-hindu,2996">Hindu rites </a>or give him a Christian burial. A mediator played by Hollywood actor Bruce Dern urges them to take a firm decision before it is too long.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250430140420_b398a08091b866da2b0b8f6c1e6e26781609749aba896bfd2c68a10a519295c3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250430140420_b398a08091b866da2b0b8f6c1e6e26781609749aba896bfd2c68a10a519295c3" data-rendition-name="original" width="945" height="945" loading="lazy" alt="Bhutan, the movie"> </figure>  There are drawn out scenes of KC being baptised and when he is confronted by his first wife from Darjeeling played by Anuradha Majumdar, he says he changed his religion in the hope that he will be <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/bhutan-s-refugees-between-hope-and-despair">allowed back in Bhutan</a>.&nbsp; We find out KC has a second wife, a Christian Nepali played by Puja Chand. Dayahang Rai as the younger son doesn’t have much screen time to flex his acting chops. &nbsp; Acharya competently portrays a man that is equal parts haunted by the memories of and longing for his home country. KC’s pain and loss is acute when he is teaching football to Gungun but between mid-scene, he freezes, perhaps lost in memories of being in Bhutan’s national team. &nbsp; In another scene, KC recalls his mother singing a lullaby in Dzongkha. He also has a box filled with medals, photographs and a football which he deflates with a knife in a powerful depiction of his <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/searching-for-a-homeland-away-from-home?fb_comment_id=1506516030025634">complicated emotions about his homeland</a>. KC keeps checking his mailbox in the hopes that his <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=4977">visa application</a> has been accepted. He says in Nepali: “If a tree that has already struck roots in one place is shifted to another, it will not survive.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250430140420_4a9c27410326489576c04dedf40016bda3825e8f9663317f54fbfec4cbda6d34.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20250430140420_4a9c27410326489576c04dedf40016bda3825e8f9663317f54fbfec4cbda6d34" data-rendition-name="original" width="1422" height="2048" loading="lazy" alt="Bhutan, the movie"> </figure>  Dern’s character says that the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/nepal-s-transitional-justice-and-the-west-s-recalibration">western world</a> has become “lonely in pursuit of happiness”, another reference to Bhutan’s obsession with its Gross National Happiness index. Scenes shift quickly throughout making the story difficult to follow at times. The use of symbolism is a trite overdone. Nonetheless, भुठान is a nuanced depiction of raw pain and agony of losing one’s homeland. But one cannot help but leave the theatre feeling deflated. KC dies without having visited <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/small-bhutan-dreams-big">Bhutan</a>, but perhaps he does in his afterlife. It is up to the audience to create its own ending to this sad story of exile. भुठान Mad Monkey Films, 2025 Directed by Binod Paudel 102 minutes In cinemas in Nepal

overseas-workers