The 208th group of 21 American Peace Corps volunteers arrived in Nepal last month, the first since the Covid evacuation. Nearly 4,000 young Americans have served in Nepal since 1962. But the new volunteers will find a very different country from what their predecessors experienced nearly 60 years ago. Excerpts of diary entries of Daniel W Edwards after he flew into Kathmandu in October 1966 and walked to Dhading district where he taught at a village school for one and a half years.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230707210716_aed0dfa93dce52e1e570c5767b470d084dcfafb3ba501002deb4e62899c250e4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20230707210716_aed0dfa93dce52e1e570c5767b470d084dcfafb3ba501002deb4e62899c250e4" data-rendition-name="original" width="995" height="1523" loading="lazy" alt="Dhading 1966 NT"><figcaption>Long before Instagram were Rs1 Aerogrammes which took 2 weeks to reach America from Dhading.</figcaption></figure>  17 October The day of departure from Kathmandu to Dhading was inauspicious. I awoke at 3AM with “intestinal disturbances”, managed breakfast, and by the time Peace Corps regional director Al Dieffenbach appeared at 9:00, I decided to consult the doctor before leaving. We had loaded my gear into the jeep station wagon and had driven into the Snow View Hotel in Lazimpat when the clutch gave out. I grabbed my medical kit and hurried back to bed. Then came the chills and fever. I felt quite sick and had a colleague summon the doctor. He was a long time in coming, but in the meantime I was bothered by a solicitous but an overbearing Anglo-Indian woman who ran the hotel. Al returned and said the trip was scrubbed for the day. The doc believed I had a virus, not dysentery. I was moved upstairs to a “sick ward”, and the fever was 102.6. Finally managed some sleep about 4:30PM. A well-dressed gent stopped by to check on me at 8:30. I returned to bed with more drugs and wondered what tomorrow would bring. 18 October I woke up at 6:15, felt much better, and heard a truck outside trying unsuccessfully to start. A delegation of volunteers was leaving by plane that morning. The struggles of the truck seemed amusing, until it dawned on me that the same truck was likely the one I and Butch Amundson would need. That was the case. At 8:30 Al showed up … still the truck would not start. So finally a USAID jeep pickup came out, we drove to the PC office to load up and set out about 11:00. Alas, just as we were leaving town at 25mph, a great shimmy commenced toward the front of the vehicle, as if the wheels were about to come off. Back to the PC office, then to AID headquarters at Rabi Bhawan to exchange vehicles. Another jeep wagoneer, we drove to the Embassy to fill the tank. There I noticed the right front tire had a nice hole in the tread. After lunch at Mr Wong’s Peace Restaurant in Lazimpat, we again set sail, piled high with baggage. We passed Balaju and headed up a winding dirt road through a beautifully green landscape. About 15 miles out, at Ranipauwa located at 6,000 feet at the top of the pass, while pulling over to let a truck pass, there was a loud bang: our left rear tire had exploded. Butch went back to Kathmandu in an old 1940 passenger touring car when we discovered our spare tire likewise had a large hole in the tread, the jeep also had no jack.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230707210720_3651f682e22d3ab64a4c0a7143152dd921eae82589b6061ca5d39772cac255e1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20230707210720_3651f682e22d3ab64a4c0a7143152dd921eae82589b6061ca5d39772cac255e1" data-rendition-name="original" width="900" height="296" loading="lazy" alt="Dhading 1966 NT"><figcaption>View of Tinkune and Kathmadu from a plane about to land in 1972 (left) and at present (right).</figcaption></figure>  Butch subsequently told us that a woman in the car (which was carrying 9 or 10 people) became ill and vomited in the back seat. The car ran out of gas outside Kathmandu, so Butch walked the rest of the way into the city. We had a nice dal bhat dinner at Ranipauwa and bedded down inside a shop that turned out to be an all-night cigarette-concession stand. When there was no knocking from without, the old lady was singing from within to a small child. Promptly at 4AM an inconsiderate rooster started crowing, a goat started bleating, and the woman and child began an unintelligible conversation. At 6:00 I got up to see the mountains, but it was still cloudy. Gradually the clouds broke, and the majestic Ganesh Himal loomed pinkish in the sky. Then a group of three or four summits appeared in the clear air. By 11:00 we were getting restless, when another AID jeep finally appeared. Butch had brought three tires, so two tires were changed, the old jeep reloaded, and we set off down toward Trisuli. There were sharp drops to the right and the terrain was such that the road went in and around all the hills. Trisuli was hot and we stopped at volunteer Allen Lundberg’s comfortable house by the side of the river. Saw the newly opened hospital with an x-ray machine just installed. Plus the hydroelectric plant and a row of bright lights around the generators in the middle of rural Nepal. 20 October Al left early returning to Kathmandu. We searched for porters, but as Dasain had just started, not even one was available. We looked at the school, the bazar and decided to set out on the morrow for Dhading, for it seemed very indefinite (“bholi parsi”) when we could get porters. Another volunteer teacher in Trisuli, “Mr. Bob” had taught all his students to say “Howdy” so as I walked through the bazar, kids kept calling out “Howdy” to me.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230707210724_83b6a39c3c22edb8758e8b3d336542af3d1fd729fb4eb044d9ae273d3f6903f2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20230707210724_83b6a39c3c22edb8758e8b3d336542af3d1fd729fb4eb044d9ae273d3f6903f2" data-rendition-name="original" width="612" height="410" loading="lazy" alt="Dhading 1966 NT"><figcaption>The Peace Corps Volunteer (PCV) office in Kathmandu.</figcaption></figure>  21 October Four of us, two Trisuli volunteers, Butch and I set out. About four miles out of town we crossed the Trisuli River via cable and bucket (tuin), my Kelty backpack and I lurching out across the river and being transported to the opposite shore by a man pulling a rope. The Trishuli volunteers turned back and shortly thereafter, we came to a good-sized stream with no apparent bridge to cross. In retrospect we already had lost the right trail. As it was, every ten minutes or so there were forks in the path going in two or three directions. We guessed the route which led along the river. Asking directions was of little help, because we always got in reply a stream of (to us) unintelligible Nepali accompanied by vague gestures. Someone would say Dhading was four kos distant (eight miles), while hours later someone else would say six kos (12 miles) remained. So we just kept walking. We definitely were going the round-about way: we waded across streams, tramped through front yards of houses, and walked between rice paddies, balancing on narrow strips of earth which separated the levels of the fields. We meandered along a footpath that was at the top of a steep river bank, which was fast eroding away. We followed the river a long time, steadily losing elevation before turning up into the hills. We reached the top of the closest ridge, but Butch’s knee was giving him trouble, and as it was nearly 3:00, we dropped down to a stream and rested. There we met a fellow who told us we could not reach Dhading until the next morning, but he (kind soul!) would take us to the village we had seen from the first ridge.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230707210732_69b1bf6a68ef97029be44b2192d987e455c974a20546d54d3ec429a347da7136.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20230707210732_69b1bf6a68ef97029be44b2192d987e455c974a20546d54d3ec429a347da7136" data-rendition-name="original" width="1066" height="798" loading="lazy" alt="Dhading 1966 NT"><figcaption>Sunaula Bazar, the headquarters of Dhading District in 1966.</figcaption></figure>  Dada-Gaun (village on the hill) was its name, and we were led into a yard. On the front porch sat a grizzled-looking man who puffed on his hookah and listened stoically while our guide explained our predicament. Soon was brought out what I think was dahi (curd), but the PC doc had hammered into our heads the rules not to eat anything raw that hadn’t been peeled or to drink liquids that hadn’t been boiled or water that at least was treated with tincture of iodine. While I was trying to explain why we couldn’t accept the dahi although we greatly appreciated the gesture, I remembered my package of biscuits and promptly passed them around. Butch brought out cigarettes, and then it turned out that bhat was available. But what a sight it was: a dirty white most unappetising-looking mass and served with it, goat’s meat in bony chunks with hair liberally floating around in a brass bowl. But we were hungry and ate most of it with our fingers. By this time quite a crowd had gathered, and all were frankly curious and speculating who we were and why we were there. I doubted the women and young girls had ever seen two tall white guys, certainly never in their small village. Taking out my razor and small mirror, I decided to shave, and that created quite a spectacle. I saw a very elaborate Dasain swing (ping) under construction, which had been nicely designed. About 8:30 I bedded down in my sleeping bag with a wad of cloths for a pillow on our host’s front porch. 22 October Managed to swallow a little more of that cold, unsightly food and departed at 8:00. Our impression that we could reach Dhading in two hours turned out to be sadly mistaken. Noticed some huge spiders in webs along the trail. Then we began to climb. After ascending that ridge, we followed the contours of the hills, going round and round and sometimes up, sometimes down. It was a beautiful valley, but fatigue and weakness were having their effects. By noon we had waded across a spectacular cascading stream, gone into a village only to backtrack and head up yet another hill. We really felt done in by now, and rest stops were becoming longer and more frequent. About 1:30 we were about to fade out when, at an iodine-flavored water stop, another Nepali, taking pity on us, gave us some oranges and boiled milk, a great lift to morale and typical of the generosity Nepalis show to foreigners about whom they know nothing. Up the last ridge we struggled, then to see down below our destination at last: Dhading Bazar. There, a contingent of the curious stared at us as we reached the one and only unpaved street, and we were taken to the headmaster’s place. Soon Mr Badri appeared, a youthful and good-looking fellow, 22 years old, still intending to finish his BA. He had almost given up hope, as I was three days late, yet expecting my arrival, he had not gone to his home in Baglung for Dasain.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230707210724_5a9a0b8c5877736648bd0c673d4ee0379b3fb7af02bec0befcf271e81879ad2f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20230707210724_5a9a0b8c5877736648bd0c673d4ee0379b3fb7af02bec0befcf271e81879ad2f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1063" height="792" loading="lazy" alt="Dhading 1966 NT"><figcaption>The author Daniel W Edwards in front of the school building in Dhading in 1966.</figcaption></figure>  [Update: Two months later, Mr Badri left the village in the dead of night (“Bhagyo” I was told) with a Grade 7 girl. I never saw him again. Nepal had lots of surprises in store for us!] My energy restored by a fairly good meal, I set off for the temple [Bhairavsthan] on top of the hill. A good steep climb, and what a sight upon arriving. A couple of hundred people (including many Magar dressed in their festive best) were crowded on that knoll anticipating the animal sacrifices. In short order a goat, water buffalo, and several small pigs were beheaded as offerings to Durga. So this is “culture shock” I thought, while watching this amazing ritual. Not five months before, I was living on a beautiful university campus in northern California, with no knowledge of such happenings on the other side of the world. Mr. Badri gave us a full account in English of the history of the temple and its gods, and he wanted to make sure we had a good view of all the blood-letting. On the way back to the bazar, I was introduced to a few local dignitaries, who greeted the new foreign teacher respectfully. Then to bed in an attic across from the shop where Mr. Badri stayed.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230707210728_4e50bd8b1895dba1145ace6620b60db6cf86fc485eb88a10e9e187aff9e389f4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20230707210728_4e50bd8b1895dba1145ace6620b60db6cf86fc485eb88a10e9e187aff9e389f4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1067" height="795" loading="lazy" alt="Dhading 1966 NT"><figcaption>The temple where animal sacrifices were made, with Ganesh Himal in the distance. It came down in the 2015 earthquake.</figcaption></figure>  23 October Went over the hill for morning tea with Mr Sharma, the Sanskrit and Nepali teacher and former headmaster. Watched the men play cards, the family puja ceremony at which tika were put on their foreheads, and then sat down in the middle of the courtyard amidst hundreds of flies to lunch. The food wasn’t bad, though a lot of uncooked stuff gave me pause, but nothing I was served was wasted, as a goat finished off whatever was left on my plate. In the afternoon I began reading English Philosophy Since 1900 which had no relevance to my current situation in Nepal, but in my pack I had brought only that one book, no language material and one change of clothes. It was dark by shortly after 6:00, strange to see no lights. I am writing this account by kerosene light. A young boy, Shiba, began cooking for us. Got him to wash his hands, but of course we can’t clean or prepare food the way we’d like to. The only thing we can do is to put iodine drops into our water bottles and wait 30 minutes before drinking. It’s a wonder we don’t get sick, though this morning my stomach is a bit uneasy. Back of our place is a stream and a hill, which is the communal latrine for men. Roving domestic animals nearby add their contributions as well. 24 October Woke up very sore. The wooden bench I slept on was flat and hard. Only a thin straw mat for a mattress. I have no international 1-rupee aerograms with me, so can’t catch up on my US correspondence. Mr. Badri expects living quarters will be found in a few days (“bholi parsi”), but local porters to go to Trisuli and bring my luggage will not be available for a couple of days.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230707210740_2517c3f7b04eae67526268652d02017156878917c44c3bf0ddb92af0efa6e854.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20230707210740_2517c3f7b04eae67526268652d02017156878917c44c3bf0ddb92af0efa6e854" data-rendition-name="original" width="1065" height="822" loading="lazy" alt="Dhading 1966 NT"><figcaption>Grade 4 students in English language class. It was warmer and quieter in the open.</figcaption></figure>  In the afternoon I went to see the school. Well, what can you say! From the outside it has a nice appearance—newly constructed walls of stone and mud and a slate roof. But inside there is virtually nothing. One section has three classrooms and an office. There is a walled partition in between, about seven feet high, not extending to the ceiling. On the dirt floor rest a few worn benches. I ended up teaching outside on a level plot of ground away from the school, since it was impossible to teach over the din of chanting students in the school building. The school office contains a few old maps, charts, three small portable blackboards, a table, a few chairs, and a carrom board which provides teachers entertainment. I was sitting there trying to digest the situation before me, as the breezes blew through the glass-less windows (no doors either). The other section of the building has no partitions—it’s like a big shed, with 70 first and second class students at one end, the third-through-fifth students at the other. The attendance figures I was first given turned out to be grossly exaggerated. Apparently many students registered but few attended regularly. Perhaps 20 first and second graders were present on any given day. My Grade 8 class had only seven or eight regular attendees. There were very few girl students.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230707210736_06a2db0d7d865c23d2498616b5a65843380bddcbb974ab77db2eb4b41de4ae64.png" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20230707210736_06a2db0d7d865c23d2498616b5a65843380bddcbb974ab77db2eb4b41de4ae64" data-rendition-name="original" width="677" height="399" loading="lazy" alt="Dhading 1966 NT"><figcaption>The author in 1966 at the Bhairavi School in Dhading built with volunteer labour.  </figcaption></figure>  Mr Badri also mentioned a local faction that opposes the school, fearing that their own interests would somehow be threatened. As it is, Badri has received no salary for some time, and the government is supposed to provide the school only Rs2,000 rupees a year. The rest of the budget must be met by student fees and contributions. My work as an English teacher is definitely cut out for me. 28 October Four porters, carrying our suitcases, a few supplies and PC-issued goods in their doko, arrived from Trisuli. I paid them a total of 70 rupees; Butch had given 10 rupees advance in Trisuli. Each porter thus earned 20 rupees for carrying a load from noon the day before until this evening for one and a half day’s work.

original

674x448

610x380

500x500

400x266

400x240

400x203

301x200

1250x600

1084x550

Dhading Journal 1966

<figure><img width="960" height="720" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141132/636cfdc59c7e80680e0a0c02jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Suman Thapa conducting an eye examination on a patient at Chaurjhari Hospital in Rukum, where EK Ek Paila is working with the local government. Photos: EK EK PAILA</figcaption></figure>It is the aftermath of disasters that <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/lockdown-brings-out-the-best-in-nepalis/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">bring out the best among Nepalis</a>. And so it was after the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/reviewing-lessons-of-the-2015-nepal-earthquake/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">2015 earthquake</a>, volunteer groups sprang up spontaneously and organised relief through social media.Among them was a loosely structured group of like-minded Nepalis who used their medical expertise to provide emergency help to areas destroyed by the earthquakes. But while many such volunteer groups faded away, the volunteers continued to expand their work — calling themselves Ek Ek Paila (one step at a time).“After seeing the devastation in 2015, I thought it’d be best to use my expertise to provide medical help and do more rather than just provide relief,” says <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=11828#.YSRhqS8w3u0" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Suman Thapa</a>, an ophthalmologist who helped set up Ek Ek Paila.  Now, with the pandemic, Ek Ek Paila has been trying to bring health services to parts of Nepal which have rudimentary medical care even at the best of times. “After hearing about infected people having virtually no access to Covid-19 treatment in rural areas where we had previously held health camps, we created a Covid Health Package and took it to them,” Thapa adds.<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/rural-nepal-fights-back-covid-19/">Rural Nepal fights back Covid-19</a>, Masta KC <figure><img width="1000" height="745" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141132/636cfdc89c7e80680e0a0c03jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The package consists of medication, relevant information, and a direct hotline to volunteer doctors to answer any questions they might have about symptoms, tests and vaccines. The demand for the packages has now snowballed, with local governments in more districts approaching for help. Ek Ek Paila raised Rs7 million for the distribution of the Covid Health Packages — all from local donations. In fact, that is what makes the non-profit different from most other charities in Nepal, it relies almost completely on donations from Nepalis. “If foreigners and international organisations want to donate to Ek Ek Paila, we do not say no,” Thapa explains. “But 99% of the funding for Ek Ek Paila comes from local donors.” The fact that Thapa is also an accomplished musician, and a lead guitarist in the band ‘The Blue Fret’ helps with fund-raising concerts. “I had always wanted to be a musician, and being a doctor was actually the next best thing for me,” admits Thapa, grinning through his mask during a recent interview at Ek Ek Paila’s new Community Health Centre in Kathmandu.Ek Ek Paila had a humble start after the earthquake six years ago. Thapa contacted some friends and found fellow doctors who committed to spending one weekend a month for a year to provide medical care to <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/kundadixit/2015/05/18/survivors-help-survivors/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">survivors</a> in remote villages <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/langtang-copes-with-quake-and-covid/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">badly hit by the earthquakes</a>. In the first year alone, Ek Ek Paila organised 12 health camps in Sindhupalcok, Dolakha, and other districts. <figure><img width="1000" height="707" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141132/636cfdcb9c7e80680e0a0c04jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Nepal’s mountainous terrain has posed a <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/environmental-destruction-is-a-medical-emergency/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">significant challenge in health care delivery</a>, made worse by government neglect and poor governance, and exacerbated during crises like the earthquake and pandemic.   All medical professionals who volunteered at health camps paid for their own trips, equipment, and even for the medicine that they prescribed. But after the 12 health camps, the regular volunteers decided to officially register Ek Ek Paila, creating a Nepali-driven and funded organisation to expand its services. Today, volunteer doctors and medical personnel also perform surgeries, including <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepals-far-sighted-eye-care/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">complex eye operations</a>, in rural health camps and carry more equipment with them, increasing diagnostic accuracy. Ek Ek Paila’s camps have become mobile primary health care centres.   <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/this-is-how-to-upgrade-nepals-rural-health/">This is how to upgrade Nepal’s rural health</a>, Sewa Bhattarai “What has made our work easier despite the political paralysis in Kathmandu is that with federalism, local governments are empowered and collaborate in holding health camps,” says Thapa, who has experience with rural health camps organised by <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times%20Buzz/sanduk%C2%ADruit%C2%ADtilganga,2574" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Sanduk Ruit</a> of the Tilganga Institute of Ophthalmology.  Local governments top up the donations from the Ek Ek Paila members themselves and other local funding to run the camps. They provide Ek Ek Paila teams of 30 or so people with accommodation and two meals a day. They also help organise the space in which the health program is conducted and help disseminate information.  <figure><img width="1000" height="705" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141132/636cfdcf9c7e80680e0a0c05jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Ek Ek Paila also collaborates with other non-profits like Sparsha Nepal and the ear-nose-throat surgery specialists, Impact Nepal. Ek Ek Paila’s new non-profit Community Health Centre in Thapathali provides affordable health care to those who cannot afford hospital fees. With the flow of patients increasing, and the challenge of making the centre sustainable a tier system for small consultation fees subsidises free treatment for those who cannot afford it.The Community Health Centre was funded through private donations, including the building itself which belongs to one of the founding members. Overhead costs are low because medical personnel all volunteer their services. Besides the vital service it provides, Ek Ek Paila has also led by example to foster <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/youth-led-feeding-campaign-spreads-across-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">volunteerism and philanthropy among Nepali </a>individuals and companies. Foreseeing the<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/vaccines-variants-and-a-third-wave/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer"> third wave</a>, Ek Ek Paila is expanding its Covid Health Packages to reach more people in hard-to-reach places. The non-profit also is in talks to manage primary health centres in Jajarkot and Sindhupalchok districts. Says Thapa: “Ek Ek Paila has brought Nepalis together from all walks of life, it has helped people in need of affordable health care and given donors and volunteers a sense of satisfaction for having contributed. As for me, this is the most fulfilling thing I have done in my life.”To donate to <a href="https://www.ekekpaila.org/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Ek Ek Paila</a>: <a href="https://www.ekekpaila.org/page/5/donate" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">https://www.ekekpaila.org/page/5/donate</a>

Step by step for rural health care in Nepal

<img width="926" height="542" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111015118/636d05e09c7e80680e0a5f31jpeg.jpg" alt=""/>The viral <a href="https://twitter.com/srp_dr31/status/1405138726280257541" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://twitter.com/srp_dr31/status/1405138726280257541&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1625456264343000&amp;usg=AFQjCNHRREcHPOFf9HgKJ22JoX0eehSeNw">video of health workers in Mustang</a> passing a box of vaccines across a rain-swollen river was a rare instance in the media of Nepalis helping Nepalis during the pandemic. Usually, on Twitter and other social media platforms, what we see are posts from Kathmandu airport of yet another consignment of medical material donated by country X or by a global organisation Y with the health minister of the day posing with diplomats.In that video from Mustang, a <a href="https://english.onlinekhabar.com/the-behind-the-scenes-story-of-a-video-that-earned-nepal-health-workers-global-praises.html" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://english.onlinekhabar.com/the-behind-the-scenes-story-of-a-video-that-earned-nepal-health-workers-global-praises.html&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1625456264343000&amp;usg=AFQjCNFgsXHa1a2nESqpbs-gvdlOlsh1HA">health centre driver stood on one riverbank</a> fearful of crossing the raging torrent and slid a metal rod through the handle of a box of Covid-19 vaccines. Then, with the help of a passer-by, he forwarded the box to another health worker on the opposite side. The video was <a href="https://twitter.com/DrTedros/status/1405632083276570631" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://twitter.com/DrTedros/status/1405632083276570631&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1625456264343000&amp;usg=AFQjCNF3oRSHM8MG0hB59G_jsAvR-aiuvA">retweeted by WHO Chief Dr. Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus</a>, who praised the workers. <blockquote>This is how far <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/healthworkers?src=hash&amp;ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#healthworkers</a> go to save lives. Is it fair that in many places these heroes have still not been vaccinated? It is in our power and our duty to do everything we can to deliver <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/VaccinEquity?src=hash&amp;ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#VaccinEquity</a>! If not now, when?<a href="https://t.co/Dm1YVbc9uB">https://t.co/Dm1YVbc9uB</a>— Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus (@DrTedros) <a href="https://twitter.com/DrTedros/status/1405632083276570631?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">June 17, 2021</a></blockquote> Foreign assistance to help Nepal cope with the pandemic is of course positive (lack of vaccines aside) because the Nepal government has simply been unable to meet demands for oxygen, hospital beds and medical supplies. Yet, Nepalis know better than anyone that the mutual aid response we are witnessing during Covid-19 is nothing new: family, friends, neighbours, and others, spring to action annually when the monsoon unleashes landslides and floodwaters, and after other disasters like the 2015 earthquakes.Following flooding in Saptari district in 2017 ‘the response of the western international system (the UN and INGOs) played only a minor role, accounting for around a sixth of the resources that affected households said they received,’ <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/volunteers-to-the-rescue-in-nepals-flood-season/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/volunteers-to-the-rescue-in-nepals-flood-season/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1625455520200000&amp;usg=AFQjCNFjC7u3KYFO4ez_4evUOXxteOJRXA">concluded a 2019 report</a>. ‘A third (of aid) came from family, neighbours and landlords, the government, the diaspora or community-based organisations, including in-kind items such as shelter, food, cooking stoves and fuels. Another quarter was from other countries, with China reported as the main source, and Nepali NGOs, particularly the Nepali Red Cross, accounted for a fifth,’ added the study. That report opened my eyes to the regular outpouring of humanitarian assistance from family, neighbours and governments at all levels, which is exemplified by civil society’s activities during Covid-19, and which happens almost immediately when disasters strike. Recently I decided to try and open the eyes of others, both inside and outside of Nepal, to this reality. With editor Srawan Shrestha we contacted groups on an unofficial list of Nepali organisations providing Covid relief and asked them to submit video clips of their work—providing hot meals and food packs to the hungry, handing out information flyers, masks and other protective equipment, building quarantine centres, etc.  <img width="844" height="542" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111015118/636d05e39c7e80680e0a5f32jpeg.jpg" alt=""><img width="940" height="538" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111015118/636d05e59c7e80680e0a5f33jpeg.jpg" alt=""><img width="936" height="539" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111015118/636d05eb9c7e80680e0a5f34jpeg.jpg" alt="">Luckily, more than enough groups responded, and we put together this short video in English and Nepali that we hope will help to change the perception about who is helping who when it comes to humanitarian assistance in Nepal.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepals-local-governments-lead-from-the-front/">Nepal’s local governments lead from the front</a>, Masta KC

Nepal’s homegrown Covid heroes

“Let's have another cup of tea,” <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/ujwal-thapa-s-light-shines-on-n0tfurod">Ujwal Thapa</a> of the alternative Bibeksheel Nepali party told the young activist Pukar Bam ten years ago. The two had 12 cups of tea that day, discussing ways to get Nepal out of its political deadend. Thapa contested the Constituent Assembly election in 2013 as an independent from Kathmandu, and formed Bibeksheel Nepali to galvanise youth impatient for change, fielding candidates in the first federal election in 2017.&nbsp; Ujwal Thapa was a political guru who was way ahead of his time, and his protégés were among the RSP’s winning candidates in last week’s election. Pukar Bam was a core member of Bibeksheel Nepali until its dissolution, and won the Kathmandu-4 seat this time. Other former Bibeksheel members who won the election from the RSP in Kathmandu include Ranju Neupane from Kathmandu-1, Sasmit Pokharel from Kathmandu-5, and Biraj Bhakta Shrestha in Kathmandu-8. As votes were counted and the results from Kathmandu began to come in, the candidates paid fulsome tribute to Ujwal Thapa’s mentorship and in inspiring idealistic youth to become a part of an alternative political force.&nbsp; Today, as RSP members of Parliament, they are no longer an alternative, but a part of Nepal’s new mainstream politics. Thapa returned to Nepal after finishing his undergraduate computer science degree in the US at the peak of the Maoist insurgency. His foray into politics began when he traveled to Nepal’s western mountains to train communities in mediation. After the war, he started a computer design company for young entrepreneurs entering the workforce. But he became frustrated with the inability of the second Constituent Assembly to promulgate the Constitution, and the power struggle between political parties played out in the streets that led to frequent shutdowns paralysing the country.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260313120348_d18647d53a3b2927328067c35b2e3e6eecf9aefe13f23384e73a2c17211cd9cb.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260313120348_d18647d53a3b2927328067c35b2e3e6eecf9aefe13f23384e73a2c17211cd9cb" data-rendition-name="original" width="823" height="682" loading="lazy" alt="The RSP's activist DNA"> <figcaption>Thapa with Pukar Bam, who was elected to Parliament last week from Kathmandu-4. Photo: PUKAR BAM / FACEBOOK</figcaption> </figure>  PROTEST TO POLITICS Ujwal Thapa had had enough, and rallied people from across walks of life, leading peaceful, silent demonstrations proclaiming 'नेपाल खुल्ला छ' against prolonged, violent strikes. Citizens fed up with the main political parties organised to defy the shutdowns. Thapa’s activism and vision for a new Nepal drew disenchanted and previously apathetic youth into politics and to join the Bibeksheel Nepali Party in 2013.&nbsp; Thapa was the pioneer of alternative politics in Nepal, and was leading a youth force long before the GenZ became synonymous with Nepal’s September Storm. He mentored and guided social activists who are today influential youth leaders engaged in non-traditional politics. “Ujwal Thapa, with his entrepreneurial spirit, wanted to address people’s pain-points, and believed that activism was the starting point to alternative politics,” explains <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepal-loses-rare-purpose-driven-leader">Ashutosh Tiwari</a>, former member of Bibeksheel Sajha party. “He sought to build confidence, motivate, and build a community for young people, which drew a lot of people into Bibeksheel.” He adds: “ And while people might say that Bibeksheel never got big, that was never its point. Its function was to be an early talent incubator, which is what it did as evident by the result of this election.” Thapa died in 2021 of complications related to Covid-19, and Bibeksheel had two mergers with Rabindra Mishra’s Sajha Party before being permanently dissolved in 2021. But many of its idealistic members joined Rabi Lamichhane’s RSP, formed just four months before the 2022 federal election. Such was the groundswell of support for change that the RSP became the fourth-largest in Parliament. In 2017, Ranju Neupane (then Ranju Darshana) was the youngest mayoral candidate for Kathmandu at age 21, and contested the federal election in 2022. Pukar Bam himself lost the 2022 election in Kathmandu-1 as an independent.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260313120348_6302a9b534f57191d9a2cb2c31b31449873c6cc27d375344a248dd90847921dd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260313120348_6302a9b534f57191d9a2cb2c31b31449873c6cc27d375344a248dd90847921dd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1729" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="The RSP's activist DNA"> <figcaption>Photo: SOCIAL MEDIA</figcaption> </figure>  Sashmit Pokharel also ran an unsuccessful campaign as an independent candidate in Kathmandu during the 2022 provincial election. Later, he was a member of the City Planning Commission under Balendra Shah when he was elected mayor of Kathmandu in 2022.&nbsp; Last week, the RSP swept the election with a supermajority of 182 seats in Parliament. Voters placed their trust in the party and its leaders to steer Nepal in a new direction after the youth unrest in September.&nbsp; In many ways, Nepal’s youth have decided, just as Ujwal Thapa once did, that enough is enough with corruption, malgovernance, nepotism and dynastic politics.&nbsp; In the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/the-man-who-shook-our-minds">documentary</a> about his life, Dimag Ghochne Manche, released earlier this year, some RSP nominees who previously worked with and were mentored by Thapa spoke of the impact he had on their lives, career, and activism. Among them is Biraj Bhakta Shrestha, former minister of Youth and Sports who is now a second time RSP parliamentarian. “I tell everybody that if it hadn’t been for Ujwal Dai, I would not have gotten into politics,” he says in the film.&nbsp; It would be unfair to attribute all the success of the hard-fought campaigns entirely to Ujwal Thapa’s protégés and former coworkers.&nbsp; But his ethos and vision for Nepal was what inspired them, and will in the coming years be reflected in national politics through the young idealists he mentored. Says Ashutosh Tiwari: “There are many Bibeksheels outside of RSP in constant and open communication with their old friends who have been elected. They will be keeping the lawmakers in check so that they do no stray too far from the values that they grew up with.”

RSP’s activist DNA

The Bell that rang in the new A daughter stands in her family's living room, frantically ringing an actual घण्टी at her father. He is a lifelong Nepali Congress (NC) voter. She tells him his party loyalty is as humiliating as a daughter eloping.&nbsp; He looks visibly defeated, and because of RSP’s landslide sweep in this election, he has no reply. She is not a party member. Nobody told her to do this.&nbsp; Multiply this actual family scene by hundreds of thousands of households across Nepal and you find the reason for the RSP tsunami. Children ringing bells at parents over dinner. Aunties shaking bells at legacy party candidates on their morning walks. Taxi drivers, lifelong UML supporters, cheerfully announcing they have switched.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026031014038_096f980a799b4f80118863174ed629680cc6c21b02e226a899ce1dc5268b4b72.png" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2026031014038_096f980a799b4f80118863174ed629680cc6c21b02e226a899ce1dc5268b4b72" data-rendition-name="original" width="364" height="662" loading="lazy" alt="RSP Flag prank"> </figure>  And overseas, Nepalis in Dubai and Doha, Sydney and Seattle, calling home to deliver just one instruction: “चुपचाप &nbsp;घण्टीमा छाप”।&nbsp; How did an election symbol like the Bell jump off a ballot paper and become weaponised for generational shame?&nbsp; The RSP's 2026 campaign is a case study in how a symbol becomes so participatory and instinctive, that citizens start campaigning on behalf of a party they never formally joined. It may look like a cult, but it is a phenomenon no political party in Nepal has ever pulled off. The ghost in the machine&nbsp; The 3-year-old RSP entered the 2026 race without the campaign infrastructure that legacy parties considered essential. It has no sister organisations, no vanguard student unions, no established cadre networks.&nbsp; In a country where ground reach and organisation wins elections, this looked like a fatal handicap. Established parties had spent decades building a top-down machinery: youth wings that mobilise on orders and unions within government. But it was all hollow and manufactured.&nbsp; That is why when the NC or UML posted a policy manifesto, it got barely 200 shares. When a 19-year-old posts an <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/spot-ai-generated-election-videos">AI video on TikTok </a>of Balendra Shah swinging a bell like a Kung Fu Hustle weapon, it gets 5 million views.&nbsp; The RSP’s very absence became its strategic advantage. Without a chain of command for content, every post felt peer-to-peer. Supporters built communities instead of following orders. Network effects took over: one person posts, three friends remix it, their followers adapt it for their own local context, and the message multiplies without a single directive from party headquarters. A TikTok from Kathmandu featuring Balendra Shah gets remixed by someone in Birganj who <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@bhojpuriyasuppor0/video/7596686360111484178?q=bhojpuri%20dub%20balen&amp;t=1773115199365">dubs it in Bhojpuri</a>. A supporter in Pokhara takes the same “अबकि बार बालेन सरकार” audio and films it over footage of the city’s broken road.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026031014038_56090217f5b3482fad934c4f76fc872047571b3c86331a4eda1ac19ae389c2fc.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2026031014038_56090217f5b3482fad934c4f76fc872047571b3c86331a4eda1ac19ae389c2fc" data-rendition-name="original" width="375" height="646" loading="lazy" alt="Balen Bhojpuri remix"> </figure>  A Nepali worker in Dubai films himself shaking his phone at the camera, captioning it “I can't vote but my family can”. The content stays structurally the same (bell + emotion) but the surface changes every time. The format is the constant. The context is the variable. A single post multiplies into a thousand pieces of local content without anyone coordinating it. Legacy parties spent money on reach. RSP's strategy built reach for free, because participation itself was the product. The Bell, blazer and brand&nbsp; Run the sensory test. The UML's Sun symbol is only visual. You see it on a ballot, on a flag. You cannot hear a sun. You cannot perform a &nbsp;sun. Nobody walks into a room and ‘suns’ at an opponent.&nbsp; The NC’s Tree symbol is also only seen. It communicates nothing as a verb. Nobody ‘trees’ the father across the dinner table. Ujyalo Nepal's lightbulb was the most passive symbol of all, it just sits there being always on. The Bell had rare resonance as an election symbol. It is a verb (to ring), a sound (tintinnabulation), a physical action (shaking), and a metaphor (wake-up call). घण्टी is participatory by design. You do not just see it, you perform it.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260310140312_c5580164e1f11a8466f591c4d514420bb5313a34b559554db05364065486c3b7.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260310140312_c5580164e1f11a8466f591c4d514420bb5313a34b559554db05364065486c3b7" data-rendition-name="original" width="368" height="654" loading="lazy" alt="Classroom ghanti NT"> </figure>  It works as a metaphor: wake up. It works as a taunt: we are coming (“हामी आयौँ”). It operates across sensory channels a meme can travel through. The other party symbols are logos. The घण्टी is a multimedia verb in active voice. Poets on the frontline Politics has always been about performance. Murray Edelman wrote decades ago that political actions are symbolic acts: what politicians do matters less than what their actions represent.&nbsp; Guy-Ernest Debord argued that spectacle replaces lived experience. But the stage has changed. The social media feed is the new stage, and the algorithm is the casting director. It does not select for policy depth, but for recognisability, emotional charge, and remix potential. Poets have always been at the frontlines of political rupture. The French Revolution had its pamphleteers. The Bolsheviks had Mayakovsky. The Black Panthers had Gil Scott-Heron. Nepal's own political history is full of writers who paid for their words with prison or exile.&nbsp; Rap is rhythm and poetry. Balen Shah did not cross from entertainment into politics, his art was always political. “सडकबालक" in 2012 was already a protest song. The diss tracks against corruption were manifestos set to beat.&nbsp; So, if घण्टी was the sound, Balen was the voice. Supporters rang Bells to perform, projecting their hopes on Balen. One is participatory (anyone can ring it), the other is aspirational (representing what you want the country to become). Together, they form a complete symbolic system: an action and an icon, a thing you do, and a person you believe in. Both are algorithm-native. The sunglasses are instantly recognisable in a thumbnail at any size. The bell sound action is identifiable within half a second of a video starting. The confrontational attitude generates the emotional charge that the algorithm rewards.&nbsp; Balen was already trained in the language of the algorithm: hooks, rhythm, timing, and audience retention. While legacy politicians are just now trying to learn the language of the algorithm, Balen grew up speaking it. The folk song brand kit: The slogans wrote themselves. While legacy politicians are just now trying to learn the language of the algorithm, Balen has grown up speaking it. The folk song brand kit The slogans wrote themselves. “चुपचाप &nbsp;घण्टीमा छाप” spread through tea shops and bus parks like a folk proverb. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-ai-generated-election">AI-generated Mahabharat edits</a> positioned Balendra Shah as a warrior-hero fighting K P Oli in golden armour.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026031014038_cd7fbb8b4a97628757977b55d1244b192c233566dad268e894c7132d16cf180c.png" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="2026031014038_cd7fbb8b4a97628757977b55d1244b192c233566dad268e894c7132d16cf180c" data-rendition-name="original" width="369" height="667" loading="lazy" alt="Ghanti Chhap NT"> </figure>  The entire package, partly by accident, partly by instinct, was built to be remixed. Every element is modular: the bell, the sunglasses, the slogan, the attitude. Take any piece and make your own version. Like a ‘Deusi re” song, the melody is fixed, everyone knows it, but anyone can change the words to fit their occasion and mood. It survives across generations precisely because no one controls it.&nbsp; The घण्टी ecosystem works the same way. The melody is fixed: the bell, the sound, the slogan, the sunglasses, the attitude. But the lyrics can be anyone’s. Shoot it in your neighborhood. Dub it in your language. Film your grandmother's reaction. Set it to your local context. That's why it spread faster than any IT cell could manufacture.&nbsp; The generational pincer The standard narrative is that digital movements stay digital, and that memes are a GenZ thing. RSP broke both assumptions. Its content operation executed a pincer movement across generations, capturing not just the youth vote but used youth as a delivery mechanism into households where no party organiser could reach. The Generational Pincer Flowchart Three vectors of pressure, all converging on the same target: the living room and the dinner table, where votes in Nepal are actually decided. Downward: children trolling parents by ringing bells at dinner, turning family meals into campaign arenas. A bell rings as a prank, then as a joke, then as a political statement. By the third night, it's not funny anymore. It's a conversation.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260310140316_446e465f60994532e53b1786368dd025e9ad99a387b4121493f8826c46921cb7.png" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20260310140316_446e465f60994532e53b1786368dd025e9ad99a387b4121493f8826c46921cb7" data-rendition-name="original" width="364" height="669" loading="lazy" alt="Ghanti prank"> </figure>  Lateral: the diaspora pipeline. Nepalis in Australia, the Gulf, Japan, could not vote, but they turned every Viber call home into a campaign touchpoint.&nbsp; Upward: the bell pressured power itself. No RSP organiser gets a meeting with a UML ward chairman or a NC MP. But those people go home. And at home, they have teenagers, nieces, nephews, and staff whose kids are on TikTok.&nbsp; A party boss's son rings a bell at dinner and asks uncomfortable questions. A NC donor's daughter shares RSP content on her Instagram story, visible to her father's entire social circle. No political structure, no matter how hierarchical, is sealed off from its own household. The bell did not need to breach the gates of Singha Durbar, it walked in through the kitchen window. The result crossed every demographic line analysts thought was fixed. Memes didn't just stay in the feed. They colonised the living room, the kitchen, the long-distance phone call, the taxi ride. Content nobody commissioned&nbsp; What the RSP's organic content looked less like a political campaign and more like a football fan club. People were not posting because they were told to. They were posting because they belonged. Trace the trends as they accumulated: <ul> <li>“<a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@rameshmahto065/video/7610784878174424338?q=chup%20chap%20ghanti%20chap&amp;t=1773115568686">चुपचाप &nbsp;घण्टीमा छाप</a>” started as a TikTok post, then showed up on motorcycle stickers, WhatsApp statuses, AI-remixed songs, and in tea-shop conversation as a folk proverb.</li> <li><a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@rajjimond_18/video/7612570510508969236?q=ma%20ta%20balen%20ko%20fan&amp;t=1773115129539">Original songs composed by supporters</a>, not the party, gained millions of views. People danced to them at rallies and in the streets. People at polling booths created TikToks to RSP anthems to show their support.</li> <li>AI spectacle videos of Balen as a Mahabharat hero, filmy dialogue, stylised Nepal flag. Slapstick clips hitting 200K+ likes and 5M views. All made by random accounts, none traceable to party infrastructure.</li> <li>Supporters built Bell apps and websites on their own. One site, <a href="https://ghanti.website">ghanti.website</a>, was registered by a random supporter in January. Open it on your phone, shake it side to side, and it rings. Within weeks, crowds of supporters were walking through neighborhoods shaking their phones in unison, producing a wall of digital bell sound.</li> <li>The intimate content. A husband-wife vlog filmed inside a car, casually discussing what a lawmaker should actually do. Just two people talking, and it resonated more than any campaign ad.</li> </ul> None of this was centrally coordinated. Parties across Nepal spent money on polished graphics that looked like professional advertisements. RSP supporters spent nothing and made content that felt like conversation. The algorithm doesn't reward production value, it rewards emotional resonance. And nothing resonated more than the feeling that you, personally, could participate in this movement without anyone's permission. Now what? The RSP has a supermajority. The Bell rang louder than anyone predicted. But a movement built on open-source energy now has to deliver closed-source results: budgets, legislation, diplomacy, institutional reform. Balen built his brand by bypassing institutions, Prime Minister Balendra Shah has to run them. He communicated through Facebook posts and rap lyrics. Now he needs to communicate with India, China, and multilateral lenders.&nbsp; His midnight F-bomb post, deleted within 30 minutes but screenshotted by thousands, showed both his appeal (unfiltered authenticity) and his risk (unfiltered impulsiveness). The question is not whether the bell rang loud enough. It obviously did. The question is what happens when the supporters who posted without being asked start expecting results they did not specify. When the meme energy that won living rooms has to translate into parliamentary committees.&nbsp; For decades, the promise of democracy was that people choose their leaders. What RSP's campaign revealed is something more uncomfortable: in the age of the algorithm and remixable content, people do not just choose their leaders.&nbsp; They build the campaign, write the slogans, produce the content, convert their own families, and then show up to vote for the movement they made with their own hands. The party becomes a container for energy it didn't create and can't fully control.&nbsp; That's either the most democratic thing that's ever happened in Nepal, or the most dangerous. It might be both.

Nobody ran the campaign. That is why it worked.

Amidst the euphoria in Nepal about the RSP’s landslide victory, the party’s future government, possibly led by Balendra Shah will plunge headlong into an energy and economic crisis sparked by the war in West Asia. Nepal gets all its diesel, petrol, gas and aviation fuel from India and lacks a strategic stockpile to buffer against shortages. The United States has unsanctioned Russian crude oil to India for one month, but India will only export refined petroleum products to Nepal after meeting its own domestic demand. As it is, India has only 10 days of stockpile of cooking gas and it is giving preference to household use. Energy experts say new oil and gas supplies from Russia and elsewhere will take another month to arrive at Indian ports. “This conflict didn’t develop overnight, yet we did nothing to augment our reserves. Clearly, we didn’t manage procurement anticipating supply disruptions,” says economist Pushkar Bajracharya. The conflict has escalated, seriously disrupting global petroleum supplies. Nearly 20% of the world’s oil and gas moves out of the Strait of Hormuz which is now blocked. The Persian Gulf makes up most of the oil and liquified natural gas supplied to Japan (75%), India (50%) and China (38%). Crude oil prices have nearly doubled to $100 a barrel this week.&nbsp; “This crisis is only going to intensify, so in the short term, it means fuel prices will increase as will the cost of goods and services,” adds Bajracharya. “This doesn’t bode well for the new government, especially when people have such high expectations from it.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260315020356_e9f97cc4e8a41bab08fb9c318be887a7eef5ac674326a9a1c878fd80109c3ec7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260315020356_e9f97cc4e8a41bab08fb9c318be887a7eef5ac674326a9a1c878fd80109c3ec7" data-rendition-name="original" width="1315" height="801" loading="lazy" alt="Strait of Hormuz NT"> </figure>  Fuel stoppages from India have happened before, notably during the 2015 Blockade. But Nepal could be better placed this time to cushion the shock because of the proliferation of battery-operated vehicles, and electrification of household cooking to some extent. “The increase in electric vehicles provides some relief, but it is not enough,” says energy economist and former Water Resources Minister Dipak Gyawali. “Most critical services still run on diesel, and they cannot be replaced overnight.”&nbsp; Nepal’s expanding road network means diesel and petrol consumption is also increasing. If the war drags on, there will be a critical shortage of aviation fuel that could also hurt tourism at the start of the trekking and mountaineering season. There is already a nationwide shortage of cooking gas which is used by 62% of Nepali households. &nbsp; The fuel crisis will have a knock-on effect on the economy which the RSP government will have to tackle on an emergency footing as soon as it comes into office. The priority would be to cap fuel prices with subsidies, control hoarding, and in the longer term expedite the switch to electricity for transportation and cooking.&nbsp; MONEY IN The other impact will be on jobs in West Asia and remittances. Nearly half the $11 billion a year Nepalis send home every year comes from West Asian countries. Nepal’s hard currency reserves have hit a record high $21.09 billion, but that cash will be of no use if there is no fuel to buy. A sharp drop in remittances due to the collapse of the economies of the Gulf states if the war is prolonged will have a multiplier impact particularly on Nepalis' household expenses and the country’s economy in general. This in turn will have a knock-on effect on investment, and affect the RSP government’s main agenda which is to create jobs at home. The vicious cycle will then mean that more Nepalis will want to migrate for overseas jobs, but options in the Gulf may not be available. The RSP’s ministers in government will have to come up with innovative ways to re-integrate Nepalis forced to return because they lose their jobs, or for safety reasons. There are nearly 2 million Nepalis across the UAE, Qatar, Kuwait and Saudi Arabia, and another 7,000 mainly women caregivers in Israel. “Other than the impact on remittances and the economy, there could be the additional challenge of rescuing over 2 million Nepalis in West Asia if it comes to that,” says Bajracharya. “We don’t have the resources, and we will have to rely on India’s logistical help.” The RSP’s main vote bank was among global Nepalis, who could not cast &nbsp;ballots themselves but influenced families and friends back home to choose the party. Social media was abuzz with slogans that promoted how choosing the RSP would bring their children back home from the Gulf. “The RSP got a majority, and that’s a good thing but voters came together to oppose UML, NC and the Maoists. But there is no clear ideology or philosophy, so while their slogan to bring Nepalis back from the Gulf sounds nice, what would they come back to?” asks Gyawali. The Nepali diaspora in the Gulf that influenced the electorate so effectively will now be looking at how the government it helped get to power in Kathmandu will help as war engulfs the region.&nbsp; There is an almost unrealistically high expectation of the RSP, and the party may not even get the customary 100-day honeymoon period. The cabinet could be put together easily enough, but the bureaucracy, judiciary, police, and the Upper House are all populated by loyalists of the old parties. Despite bad blood, the RSP will have to work together with all parties in the face of the crisis unleashed by the war. And Nepal’s politicised foreign policy must be galvanised to deal with the crisis.

Rough road ahead for new Nepal rulers

The series Nepal Made profiles Nepali products and the people who make them possible While premium beauty product outlets were closing during the Covid-19 pandemic, two young women gambled on setting up a new skin and haircare brand with natural ingredients mostly sourced from Nepal and suited for the Nepali complexion. Arushree Sharma Khatiwada and Megha Agarwal were batchmates in school before they left for studies abroad, returning to set up Avani Nepal after year-long rigorous research into ayurveda-based cosmetic products. Avani in Sanskrit means ‘earth’, and as the name suggests it is committed to bringing all natural, pure and authentic range of beauty solutions.&nbsp; “We found a gap in the Nepali market demand for cosmetics, which is why we decided on a brand sourced from all-natural Himalayan herbs that are not used or explored properly,” says co-founder Khatiwada.&nbsp; Nepal is a treasure trove for medicinal plants and those with therapeutic properties. After all, legend has it that Hanuman flew right across the subcontinent from Sri Lanka to the Himalaya to find a rare medicinal plant to save the life of Lord Ram, who was wounded in battle. When he could not find the specific plant, he tore off a whole mountain and brought it down. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/looking-good-by-doing-good">Looking good by doing good</a>, Sudiksha Tuladhar  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260314120356_32323fd084540236fe4edb3b98286c131d67c73310279c8038510da1e1ae1bc0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260314120356_32323fd084540236fe4edb3b98286c131d67c73310279c8038510da1e1ae1bc0" data-rendition-name="original" width="3024" height="2012" loading="lazy" alt="Avani"> </figure>  Medicinal plants in Nepal range from yarsagumba to jatamasi and 500 other species traditionally used in the Ayurveda as well as now in the wellness industry. Avani is also trying to experiment hibiscus, Himalayan honey and other plants to eventually launch an export drive. Running a business in Nepal is no easy task, especially for small scale locally crafted products but in a few years, Avani has ammased loyal customer base and have many repeat customers. “While it was tricky initially, we were determined to launch our products with the best quality ingredients and in an affordable price range,” says Khatiwada. Following a worldwide trend and emulating the method used by Korean cosmetic brands, Avani has deployed celebrities and influencers to increase its outreach through tikTok , Facebook and YouTube. &nbsp;Actresses Barsha Shiwakoti and Shilpa Maskey and makeup artists like Lemi have reviewed their products favourably. Sutainability is a big part of the brand, and Avani uses glass bottles, cardboard boxes, paper bags for all its products. Plastic use is cut to a minimum, and where used is recycled.&nbsp; “Many people think that sustainable brands are expensive, we want to bust that myth,” Khatiwada told us. “We focus on being eco-friendly using ethically sourced materials that are paraben, silicon, and cruelty free.”&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/proud-to-wear-dolpo">Proud to wear DOLPO</a>, Vishad Raj Onta  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260314120356_da0d7d4082a9aa51c96ecbcb8a2e7a5bc60e27de202fb339a522036aa3f50b49.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260314120356_da0d7d4082a9aa51c96ecbcb8a2e7a5bc60e27de202fb339a522036aa3f50b49" data-rendition-name="original" width="1048" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Avani"> </figure>  Avani has expanded its business to get a toehold in Nepal’s tourism and wellness industry, and the products are carried by spas in leading hotels and resorts in Kathmandu and Pokhara such as the Terraces, Marriott, and Kavya resort, and is in talk with the Hideaway Resort in Pokhara.&nbsp; The skin and haircare brand that initially started with 10 products has since expanded its line to 60 with goods placed in more than 100 stores across Kathmandu. Plans are in the works to expand to India, China and in Japan partnering with Okada. Avani Nepal’s founders say that they support empowerment through employment and training opportunities for women at the company. Khatiwada herself has been engaged with organisations such as Nepal Women Chamber of Commerce, and Nepal Youth Entrepreneur Forum. Additional support from the government such as the provision of lower excise duties has helped but guidance for export and other business regulations is as crucial. Such an environment would also foster opportunities for the youth who are otherwise moving away for jobs or study abroad. “While everyone is trying to go abroad, opportunities can be created here in Nepal itself, with adequate support from the government,” says Khatiwada. “In the meantime, we are eyeing for long term benefits. We are trying to create a legacy for cosmetic brands in Nepal.” Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/java-in-the-himalaya-y1ilc21h">Java in the Himalaya</a>, Vishad Raj Onta