This is the 48th instalment of Diaspora Diaries, a regular series in Nepali Times with stories of Nepalis living and working abroad. Growing up in Lamjung, I had a very humble childhood. I helped my mother with household chores, and in the fields. My father wanted me to follow his path and join the Indian Army, but after two months at the Gorkha Training Centre in Shillong with its huge billboard that said ‘Do or Die’, I was put off and returned to Nepal.&nbsp; I was in awe walking around the streets of &nbsp;Kathmandu. I used to go to Bishal Bazaar just to practice taking the lift. My curiosity about how things worked, and surfing the net helped keep me updated. I tried to run a café while attending college. But Nepalis had not yet developed a taste for brewed coffee, so my café failed. I also could not continue my studies, so like everyone else going abroad, I left for the UAE in 2004 to work. My brother, who worked as a driver in the UAE, got me a job as a rope access worker in charge of cleaning windows on tall buildings. We first practiced in a two storied building in Dubai, and would be drenched in sweat. I got my license but on a job to clean the façade of a skyscraper, my knees shook as I dangled 48-floors above the ground.&nbsp; What I had learnt on the ground did not amount to much hanging on a rope up there on a high rise. It got better with practice, and it helped that my supervisors were Nepalis who got me acclimatised to the height, so I felt safe.&nbsp; I spent over a decade in the UAE but do not remember much from that period. Work-pay-work-pay, it was a cycle. The kindness of strangers has stayed with me. Some residents on the high floors would offer us fruits as we dangled outside their windows. Small gestures, but they are etched in my memory. I have helped set up the fireworks display on Burj Khalifa and cleaned seven-star hotels, but when my company set up a new oil and gas division in 2005, I asked for an internal transfer in the inspection and engineering department. We got trained in non-destructive testing (NDT), which I enjoyed a lot and excelled in. I took courses in visual, ultrasound and magnetic particle inspections, and found a sense of deep fulfilment in learning new things. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/sky-is-the-limit-for-nepali-chef-in-bahrain">Sky is the limit for Nepali chef in Bahrain</a>, Sanjay Lama Tamang  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023120902120_fc8c6c1b2d8dab2c07f75c56d819ae566fbdcee047cf568a52adb95c2ede032f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2023120902120_fc8c6c1b2d8dab2c07f75c56d819ae566fbdcee047cf568a52adb95c2ede032f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1211" height="729" loading="lazy" alt="DD #48 NT"> </figure>  Work offshore used to be round the clock. I missed the sense of freedom one feels on firm ground, even though all amenities were provided on board. I still remember how the most rewarding feeling was seeing my name on the list in the control room near the helipad with home leave dates when the chopper would come to airlift us out every month.&nbsp; It was the best feeling in the world, but for the first few days we would still feel like the floor was moving. We had got so used to being at sea.&nbsp; The paid monthly leave was unique among migrant workers. I made sure not to waste time, and used to go to India to take more courses to upgrade my skills. I could not continue my formal education because of my personal circumstances, but I had no excuse not to invest in learning new things.&nbsp; I had the desire to achieve something, and the training was part of advancing my career. Taking formal classes honed my theoretical understanding of the work right from the fundamentals.&nbsp; Given the absence of Nepalis in the management in the oil and gas sector, there was a preference for other nationalities in promotions. Despite meeting roadblocks every step of the way, I did overcome them and moved up the ranks.&nbsp; I had a starting salary of AED900, but by the time I left the UAE a decade later, I was earning AED20,000 ($5,500) a month. After ten years in the UAE including one year in Qatar with the same company, it was time for a change.&nbsp; I tried resigning three times, but was offered better benefits so decided to stay on. But after the third time, I had made my mind. My resignation letter said, ‘I am leaving for my personal betterment.’ It was not for financial reasons, I just knew it was time for a change. &nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-on-my-mind">Nepal on my mind</a>, Ishwar Chaulagain  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023120902120_b259140354429fdda3d4aaf327da94a87300a435d89a29762cbef9ec3dc7e0c7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2023120902120_b259140354429fdda3d4aaf327da94a87300a435d89a29762cbef9ec3dc7e0c7" data-rendition-name="original" width="1141" height="729" loading="lazy" alt="DD #48 NT"> </figure>  I applied for a job in Nigeria in 2012, and was thrilled to be offered $450 per day for a five month contract. My boss then offered me a longer term contract, and I stuck around in Nigeria for three more years. During my last year, I even helped the company start a training wing and worked as a trainer.&nbsp; The oil crisis of 2015 slowed things down. Oil prices fell from $125 to $25 per barrel, and although my employer asked me to stay on with salary, I left. Nepal was calling.&nbsp; I started my own Industrial Rope Access Trade Association (IRATA) certified training company, Asset Integrity Group, in Kathmandu in 2016. We provide training in rope access, spray painting, welding, rigging and non-destructive testing.&nbsp; I had no guidance in my career choices, I just followed my instincts. I try to be a good mentor to Nepalis interested in this field even though what I earn here does not compare to what I was used to overseas.&nbsp; But there is a different kind of joy in the training and even the respect I get from my students. Nepalis in the rope access sector renew their licenses or upgrade to the next level at my centre, and many are working in the Gulf. A handful of Filipinos, Bangladeshis, Sri Lankans and Indians have also come to Kathmandu, where I have trained and licensed them as we are an internationally accredited centre and cost less than elsewhere. Our offer to them is that they not only get cheaper training, they also will get to visit our beautiful country.&nbsp; Luckily, I know enough people in the industry worldwide who hire me for short-term gigs like protective coating services in the oil and gas sector. I have worked in Africa, the Middle East and Central Asia where I spend a few months every year. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/money-is-not-everything-but-you-need-money-for-everything">"Money is not everything, but you need money for everything"</a>, Rohit Shrestha  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023120902120_761d1f46b408f2d199a5d0375df8702a5987a948b61df03eacbe2d9a8b18a219.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2023120902120_761d1f46b408f2d199a5d0375df8702a5987a948b61df03eacbe2d9a8b18a219" data-rendition-name="original" width="1778" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="DD #48 NT"> </figure>  My travels allow me to offer similar opportunities to fellow Nepalis. Three Nepalis, for example, joined me in Nigeria. My international colleagues are often surprised to hear that I am from a landlocked country with no oil industry. I myself wonder sometimes how I got here. I tell them: “I learned and earned.” &nbsp; Nepalis in my field know me as Rudra Dai their mentor, who follows their progress even after training. My foreign friends call me Ruddy. Ruddy’s occasional gigs makes Rudra Dai’s work sustainable. In a way, I have the best of both worlds.&nbsp; It is not easy, of course. We have to meet strict IRATA standards to pass audits. At our training center, we simulate different scenarios such as in civil and marine rope access work. We also provide on-the-job training so students can practice what they learn. There are more complex courses like industrial painting. Additional training for painting or welding inspection combined with rope access training could contribute to boosting earnings.&nbsp; Many Nepalis still go overseas to earn just $300 USD monthly. I wish they understood that there are also opportunities that offer much higher salaries if they got training. It cannot be any training; it has to be recognised and valued overseas as well. In rope access, where safety is paramount and licensing requirements are mandatory, just a short training can open up higher salaries, new sectors and upward mobility, as the demand for workers in this field is growing.&nbsp; This model would work best if employers themselves were also involved. But Nepali employers do not prioritise occupational health and safety, and training. They just want cheap labour. Overseas companies also hesitate to invest in training workers especially as they have trouble retaining them, and there are competitors who offer small salary mark-ups.&nbsp; I have come a long way from dangling with shaky knees on a rope off a high rise in Dubai. When I meet young migrant workers on leave in Nepal, I see myself 15 years ago. I used to go to India to get myself trained, now I am glad to say I can offer such training in Nepal itself. &nbsp;&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/from-retail-to-selling-chiya">From retail to selling chiya</a>, Gautam Guvaju Translated from a conversation with the author. Diaspora Diaries is a regular column in Nepali Times providing a platform to share experiences of living, working, studying abroad. Authentic and original entries can be sent to editors@nepalitimes.com with Diaspora Diaries in the subject line.

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Migrant worker teaches others the ropes

Muna Acharya was married off by her family when she was barely 14 to a man who physically and emotionally abused her for years.&nbsp; He beat her, threw her out of the house in the middle of the night, and constantly hurled insults. Muna’s own family was no help. After 19 long years of this, she had enough and left her husband. &nbsp; “It hurts me to think about all those years of trauma, I don’t know how I could bear it for so long,” says Muna who became a migrant worker in Malaysia in 2010.&nbsp; It was an escape from abuse, but also a chance to earn enough to support her two children who were 16 and 12 at the time in Jhapa.&nbsp; “Far away from Nepal, I could breathe easy for the first time in my life,” recalls Acharya who was encouraged to seek foreign employment by her relative Gita Katuwal, who had also gone to Malaysia a year before to escape harrowing circumstances at home. Like Muna, Gita was abused so severely by her husband that she would often have to ask her family and neighbours to cover up the dark bruises on her skin.&nbsp; “It was not as easy to get a divorce back then as it is now. Usually the village elders and police would mediate and force reconciliation with the husband,” Gita recalls. “They would behave themselves for a few days and the beatings would start again.” &nbsp; Being homemakers meant that both Muna and Gita did not have the time and opportunity to get jobs that would give them financial independence. Moreover, their own families, neighbours would refuse to get involved. &nbsp; When it became clear that they would not get help from anyone at home, both women saw no other way out than to opt for self-imposed exile from Nepal. &nbsp; Gita ultimately ended up spending 13 years in Malaysia, and says it turned her life around, giving her confidence and independence as well as allowed her to give her children a secure life.&nbsp; “I could not make my children happy when I stayed with them, but I was able to give them the things they deserved while being far from them,” she says. “Going abroad gave me my life back.” There are many Nepali women like Muna and Gita who survived domestic violence and spousal abuse and neglect, and unable to bear it any longer, have abandoned not just their abusive households but also their own country. Foreign employment has empowered the women, giving them financial independence and self-respect. Back from Malaysia, Muna Acharya has invested her savings in a convenience store. “Foreign employment has given me everything. I no longer have to worry about where my next meal is going to come from, and I don't have to live in constant fear of physical abuse,” she says. Buddha Maya Limbu’s abusive husband left her 15 years ago when she was three months pregnant. As the reality of raising a child on her own sank in, Buddha Maya promised herself she would not let her child’s life be touched by the pain and hardship that she herself had experienced. &nbsp; Over the next couple of years, Buddha Maya worked first at a clothing facility that eventually went under, and then raised chicken until they all died in a bird flu epidemic. &nbsp; Realising that her only hope was to find work abroad, Buddha Maya left her home in Jhapa for Kuwait in 2009, leaving her two-year-old son in the care of her parents. She returned to Nepal three years later, immediately began to pay off the interest on loans and invested the rest on a property. &nbsp;&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20231126101124_a950e3698a720c6e6562aebae2546f41f4e878cf605f34cc138dbf6ae05dab6c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20231126101124_a950e3698a720c6e6562aebae2546f41f4e878cf605f34cc138dbf6ae05dab6c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Female migrants NT"> <figcaption>(Clockwise) Muna Acharya, Gita Katuwal, Kumari Chemjong, and Buddha Maya Limbu. Photos: SUJATA DHUNGANA</figcaption> </figure>  She left Nepal once again in 2014, this time for Malaysia. By the time she returned in 2021, she had wired enough money back home to send her son to school, and to build a house. “Now I don’t have to worry about renting rooms again,” iy Maya says, “I built this house with my own money. It has a strong foundation, and so does my son because of the education I could give him.” Her mother Ranmaya is overjoyed at her daughter’s success and that Buddha Maya has bigger dreams to get her son recruited into the British Army.&nbsp; “My daughter means everything to me,” says Ranmaya. “But how can I stop her from leaving again when I have seen the life she has built by going abroad?” Kumari Chemjong had dreamt of becoming a dance instructor ever since she was a schoolgirl, never missing a dance event in the village. “My grandmother always told me that dancing was not a job,” she says. “It took me many years to understand what she meant.” Kumari got married, and it was not easy. She left behind her toddler son and escaped to Kuwait in 2017 via backchannel routes through India because female migrant workers were banned from going abroad at the time because of reports of abuse by employers overseas. “I knew I should not have gone illegally,” Kumari admits, “but there were countless reasons for me to escape from troubles at home.”&nbsp; For two years in Kuwait she cleaned houses, and this made her realise the value of work, taught her the importance of being with family and loved ones, and made her realise her attachment to Nepal. &nbsp; “I understand why Nepali migrant workers feel the need to kiss the ground when they get off the plane at Kathmandu airport,” she says. Now back home in Jhapa, Kumari has finally fulfilled her childhood dream and teaches dance at two private schools in Haldibari. She also makes and sells beaded necklaces, and has written and recorded two gazals. She is also the vice president of the Jhapa chapter of the Center for the Protection of Migrant Workers’ Rights, and says that women tend to save more and send more money home than men. Safe working conditions and financial literacy are crucial for women seeking foreign employment, she adds. “Foreign employment has helped women who experience domestic violence, abuse, ostracisation, and economic deprivation to turn their own and their children’s lives for the better,” says activist Renu Adhikari. “The remittance they send is also contributing to Nepal’s economy.” But even if women overcome the stigma of abandoning their families to go abroad, many women who end up working as household help face abuse and unsafe working conditions from employers overseas as well. Domestic abuse is often replaced by overseas abuse. &nbsp; Gita Katuwal was forced to leave her home and country to escape her abusive husband and in-laws, but says overseas migration is an opportunity for Nepali women. “People who didn’t believe I would make it in life now ask to borrow money from me,” she says. “I am now able to speak my mind confidently in my community without fear or doubt that my opinions matter.”&nbsp;

Nepali women flee abuse for overseas work

Between mid-June and mid-October alone, almost 37,500 Nepalis left for the UAE for jobs, placing it among the top destination countries. Many of these workers will likely be engaged in the delivery of the COP28 Climate Summit that will ironically be held in the UAE, the world’s fifth <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-s-greenwashing-in-glasgow">biggest</a> exporter of refined petroleum, with the head of the Abu Dhabi National Oil Company (ADNOC) service as conference president. Prime Minister Pushpa Kamal Dahal will lead the Nepali delegation.Migrant workers form <a href="https://worldmigrationreport.iom.int/wmr-2022-interactive/">88% of the UAE population</a>, so one cannot talk about COP28 or the UAE by ignoring migration. For Nepal, too, the climate crisis and the migration economy are linked.<a href="https://www.hrw.org/news/2023/11/21/uae-migrant-worker-abuses-linked-broader-climate-harms">New research</a> by Human Rights Watch (HRW) states that the COP28 host’s role in climate injustice goes beyond it being one of the largest fossil fuel producers and among the highest per capita emitters. It also relates to its treatment of migrant workers. HRW interviewed 151 current and former migrant workers and their families from Bangladesh, Pakistan and Nepal. Despite negligible per capita greenhouse gas emissions, the three countries are among the most climate vulnerable and have suffered extreme weather and slow-onset events linked to climate change.&nbsp; The climate impact countries like Nepal face should also be considered from the perspective of their mobile populations in the UAE and other countries. Migrant workers are exposed to extreme heat with inadequate protection, and because widespread abuse like wage theft and exorbitant recruitment fees limit the ability of workers to send home remittances, including during climate-linked emergencies. Dubai’s maximum temperature on some days <a href="https://www.khaleejtimes.com/uae/weather/uae-temperatures-cross-50oc-for-first-time-this-summer">exceeded</a> 50 Celsius this summer, and the UAE itself is vulnerable to heat stress due to atmospheric warming.The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) has said that the Gulf <a href="https://www.ipcc.ch/report/ar6/wg2/downloads/report/IPCC_AR6_WGII_Chapter10.pdf">states’</a> wet bulb globe temperature (WBGT) is ‘expected to approach, and possibly exceed, the physiological threshold for human adaptability (35°C) by the end of the century’. Migrant workers, including Nepalis, are disproportionately exposed.The most common heat mitigation strategy used in the Gulf including the UAE are ‘summer midday bans’ that stop outdoor work in the afternoons for a few hours. But a <a href="https://oem.bmj.com/content/80/6/347">study</a> in <a href="https://oem.bmj.com/content/80/6/347">Kuwait</a> found that despite the ban there was a substantial increase in the risk of occupational injuries associated with extremely hot temperatures. Another <a href="https://www.researchgate.net/publication/333293731_Assessment_of_Heat_Stress_Exposure_among_Construction_Workers_in_the_Hot_Desert_Climate_of_Saudi_Arabia">study </a>found that the highest heat intensity for workers in Saudi Arabia was from 9 am to noon, while the ban is in effect between noon and 3 pm. HRW’s research recommends that the UAE move away from arbitrary, calendar-based midday bans towards risk-based measures such as the WBGT.&nbsp; Heat is a health hazard. It can exacerbate pre-existing conditions, impair cognitive function, and increase the risk of workplace injuries and long-term illnesses like end-stage renal failures. Dialysis rooms across Nepal that are filled with Gulf returnees. &nbsp; HRW’s <a href="https://www.hrw.org/video-photos/interactive/2023/11/21/migrant-workers-bear-the-brunt-of-uae-extreme-heat">research</a> follows three dialysis patients who are all UAE returnees describing how they did not get support from the UAE. The Nepal government provides dialysis for free, but the cost of medicines, injections, and transportation add up. Chitrakala, the wife of a dialysis patient, Til, who accompanies him to the hospital multiple times a week for his dialysis says, “In some ways, I find it comforting to be at the hospital because in the waiting room, I realise I am not alone. It is not just my family that is facing this.”&nbsp; Another UAE returnee, Purna, says it is after he frequented the dialysis centre that he realised that kidney failure is common among migrant worker returnees. The situation will worsen in a changing climate. “The UAE is externalising their own climate risks onto migrant workers who are labouring under woefully inadequate protections. These workers often experience chronic health harms linked to extreme heat, and then return home without any compensation from the UAE and instead let countries like Nepal bear all the serious health costs like dialysis treatment,” says Michael Page of HRW.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20231124031152_7daf43db2cba93c6e81c6607aa61d07d3f3fbd4e2b338aadd2aaa4720828cb76.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20231124031152_7daf43db2cba93c6e81c6607aa61d07d3f3fbd4e2b338aadd2aaa4720828cb76" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="2268" loading="lazy" alt="COP28 and migtants NT"> </figure>  There are other labour abuses like wage theft and exorbitant recruitment fees that also contribute to climate injustice, the HRW report argues. Climate emergencies back home exacerbate the mental stress of wage theft and recruitment debt as families in Nepal are in increasingly dire and even life-threatening situations.&nbsp; Workers HRW spoke to who were unable to send remittances because of labour abuses spoke of the dilemma they face: their families lose both critical financial support and the help they could have provided for urgent tasks like rebuilding damaged property had they stayed home. But for many, even exiting the UAE with outstanding recruitment debts or unpaid wages during such climate emergencies posed a challenge. Workers had to pay fees to retrieve their passports including by obtaining ‘reverse remittances’ on loan from families back home already reeling from life-threatening climate emergencies. Good migration can be transformative, but bad migration can be devastating for families. To be sure, remittances have been critical for economies of Nepal and other South Asian countries, but they do not substitute their responsibility. Historical and major greenhouse gas emitters also have a duty to support communities heavily impacted by the climate crisis. <a href="https://www.knomad.org/sites/default/files/publication-doc/migration_development_brief_38_june_2023_0.pdf">Remittances</a> are equivalent to a quarter of Nepal’s GDP, while Pakistan and Bangladesh are among the top 10 remittance recipients globally. Remittances have also been a lifeline including post-earthquake and during Covid. But these numbers mask the individual experiences of migrant workers and their families who face abuses and many of whom end up in financially worse situations than they did pre-migration. Virtually all migrant workers pay hefty fees for jobs which itself creates a huge dent on the returns to migration while excluding some of the poorest communities from even attempting to migrate. But even that does not guarantee a good job. The July 2021 <a href="https://www.icimod.org/article/the-melamchi-flood-disaster/">Melamchi flood</a> was a climate-induced disaster in Nepal, and one of its victims told HRW researchers: “During the flood, all we wanted was to save our lives. We survived, but we lost everything. The flood finished us.”His wife is headed to the UAE for a waitressing job which cost her Rs &nbsp;200,000, and borrowed at 24% annual interest. If all goes well, her first year’s salary of a mere $262 a month will just go to repay the loan. Another Sindhupalchok returnee from the UAE said, “Whether climate change or not, we have to migrate. We used to be self-sufficient but now have to buy food. Yields are lower. Insects and diseases are more common.” Climate change can be a compounding factor for longstanding emigration such as from Nepal to the Gulf, and adds to the burden of past, present and future migrant workers. The UAE is also being criticized for its restrictions on civil society and free expression during COP28. The HRW research states these affect migrant workers by limiting their ability to raise workplace concerns and seek structural, worker-centered reforms. The government’s opacity around <a href="https://pomeps.org/climate-the-environment-and-health-of-migrant-workers-lessons-from-kuwait">health data</a> hampers research for <a href="https://vitalsignsproject.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/06/Vital_signs_3_online.pdf">evidence-based</a> policymaking including for better outdoor protections, while academics and journalists tend to <a href="https://www.hrw.org/news/2021/10/01/uae-tolerance-narrative-sham-0">self-censor</a> to avoid reprisals. At the COP 28 in Dubai, Prime Minister Dahal would do well to dwell on the links between the host country and increasing climate vulnerability that Nepalis face both at home from weather extremes and heat stress at their workplaces in the UAE.

Too hot to work

This is the 35th instalment of Diaspora Diaries, a regular series in Nepali Times with stories of Nepalis living and working abroad. A local acquaintance in Baglung went around a village fair promising youngsters like me his son in India would send us to "Arab". This was the 1980s and back then for us there was no Qatar or Saudi or UAE, only Arab. And that was where the jobs and money was. You could earn 7kg of gold per year in Arab, we were told. We believed the man and 93 of us from Baglung headed to Mumbai, where he said we would be in transit. We were stranded there for 17 months. It is funny how the agent’s false assurances – “next week, confirm”, “next month, pakka” — would stretch to more than a year with no job in sight. We waited impatiently in Mumbai. But it did help that we could work and get around India. I worked as a security guard in an apartment complex, dreaming of the promised land. The families in the apartment would ask me to take their children to school, sometimes I would carry 8-10 of their school bags on my back, but I did not mind because that was extra income. One day, as I was walking with a friend to my company's management office to pick up my salary, I saw a sign with the picture of a plane on it. I asked the Indian agent there whether he had work visas for Nepalis. He said yes, and after paying Rs20,000 I was en route to Saudi Arabia to work in a bakery. I was not given advance notice about my flight, but I did not have much to pack anyway. Just three pairs of clothes, slippers and a towel that I quickly stuffed inside my bag. We got to the airport nervous and excited. Read Also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/between-home-and-the-deep-blue-sea">Between home and the deep blue sea</a>, Prakash Gurung In the rush to the airport, I did not have a chance to exchange money. But I did stitch in 500 Indian Rupees into the hem of my trousers. My hunger grew unbearable in my 13-hour wait at the airport in Riyadh for the next domestic flight so I decided to spend it even though it was all the money I had. I explained to the Sudanese at the counter in my broken English that I had no Saudi money, just Indian rupees. He laughed as he saw me struggle to remove the stitches on my trousers to take out my money. In exchange he gave me 8 Saudi Riyal. I bought biryani and Coke at an inflated price. The Pakistani waiter serving me was amused when I asked him for chillis as I downed my meal. Food has never tasted so good. After taking another domestic flight, I was finally at my destination. Day and night, without time off, I used to work at the bakery for 500 riyal ($130) a month. Between my boss saying "Tal, tal" (Come, come) to assign me work and my "Money problem, Money problem,", he gave me several raises. By the time I went on my first holiday, I was earning 1,200 riyal.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230625120632_b047a814987b451df7ad6180dc01bae85f0eafa340ff5db8710df8b18e1b228b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20230625120632_b047a814987b451df7ad6180dc01bae85f0eafa340ff5db8710df8b18e1b228b" data-rendition-name="original" width="965" height="1428" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 2"></figure>  I worked at the bakery for about six years, and then at a grocery store for a fraction of my bakery earnings. It was my naseeb (fate) that I fell into a trap, but had to stick around for 3 years. I had to ask my friends for money to send home. Finally, I transferred to a laundry shop where I earned 800 riyal per month. This is where my struggle and hard work started to pay off because I won the trust of my kafeel, and worked my way up to the manager’s post with six workers under me. I soon co-owned the business with him. I paid him a fixed monthly fee, higher than what previous expat partners had offered, and the rest of the earnings minus the operations costs was for me to keep. For 15 years, I managed to save up to Rs200,000 per month.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230625120632_7723c73101615a374590214a624b8e928c9df1d1e38453c4605f109dad761825.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20230625120632_7723c73101615a374590214a624b8e928c9df1d1e38453c4605f109dad761825" data-rendition-name="original" width="1694" height="1056" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 3"></figure>  In 2017, I decided to return to Nepal despite the good pay and my boss’ insistence that I stay. I had worked enough and was tired, I just wanted to be home with my family. I was leaving behind a different Saudi Arabia. All I remember is vast expanses of sand when I first arrived there. When I left, the roads were wide and buildings had sprung up. I wonder how the three decades went by. Earnings in Nepal are enough, if at all, just to make ends meet. Anything more, and I would have to pack my bags to go overseas again or find reasons to stay abroad. And I wanted more. I had bought a plot of land in Baglung in 1989 after spending a few years in Saudi Arabia. To build a house in that empty piece of land, I had to go overseas. I relocated my sons to Kathmandu because there was no future in the village, especially during the Maoist conflict. I now wanted to sell my Baglung land to buy land and a house in Kathmandu. That meant I had to migrate overseas again.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230625120636_496ee89e3e7405d5267dc6dad4e6c6550827543ad593c8c0057eb6b86980b74c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20230625120636_496ee89e3e7405d5267dc6dad4e6c6550827543ad593c8c0057eb6b86980b74c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 5"></figure>  The sacrifices I made during my foreign employment, communicating over letters with my newly married wife that took 28 days to reach, working around the clock without keeping track of time, or missing key milestones as my sons grew up, all paid off for me in different ways. Despite being from rural Nepal, I managed to build a house in Kathmandu and got extra income from the rent. My sons have both completed their bachelors in IT and have well-paying jobs. They will soon be going abroad for their Master's. Read Also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/a-fathers-sacrifice-for-his-son-s-dream">A father's sacrifice for his son's dream</a> These are the goals I accomplished by being away. For nearly three years after returning I did nothing. But slowly, the urge to work returned and I started exploring multiple options in Kathmandu, from starting a party palace to a momo store to a poultry farm. Given my experience in Saudi Arabia, I also considered starting a bakery or a laundry, but these were high cost investments. I could neither afford the kind of machines I had used overseas nor expect the same levels of returns in Nepal.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230625120636_decb61422a13681d5a9d6dd2bd4673d8ac1ff573697301279ef9192dff71d79c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20230625120636_decb61422a13681d5a9d6dd2bd4673d8ac1ff573697301279ef9192dff71d79c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="958" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 4"></figure>  Eventually, I found a spot in a vegetable market in Dhumbarahi. My brother and I invested just Rs130,000 initially, and four years later we sell about a ton of vegetables daily at wholesale prices. Our days start at 2AM as we collect produce from suppliers from Chitwan, Kavre, Makwanpur and Dhading. We sell the produce until 10AM and resume again at 2PM. From 6-6:30 pm onwards, I start selling off what is left at a cheaper price, sometimes at a loss. Read Also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/diaspora-diaries/finding-a-niche-in-nepal">Finding a niche in Nepal</a>, Babare Bahadur Bomjan By this time of the day, I am so desperate to get rid of the entire stock of vegetables that I start hawking to draw customers. It helps to stand out in a crowd of sellers who are all facing the same time pressure to do away with remaining perishables. I first had a difficult time understanding the market. Where do we get produce at good rates, who do we sell them to and at what price? At what stage is it better to give away unsold produce at lower prices, sometimes even taking a loss, before they go bad completely? These are things I learnt along the way.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230625120640_95ba664516743f05ae5b683c1451c5f8794f977b0336b7e2e78d7f28abfc6ce5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20230625120640_95ba664516743f05ae5b683c1451c5f8794f977b0336b7e2e78d7f28abfc6ce5" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="958" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 6"></figure>  The stakes are not as high in my current work as in other businesses. So far, when I have made losses and sold produce at low prices, I have managed to recuperate it within a few days. It is a relief that I do not have to worry about back-breaking loans or huge losses that trap many entrepreneurs. And I particularly like being referred to as a ‘sauji’, as I wouldn’t have enjoyed working under someone for a pittance. Business is good but I do get tired more easily these days. My age is slowly catching up on me. I began my struggle when I was 17, four decades ago. In a few years, I want to sell my business and take it easy to just rest and travel. I want to take my wife to Mumbai to show her where it all began. To my days as a young security guard in the city, dreaming of Arab and the promises it held.

From Saudi to Sauji

This is the 28th 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. I am the youngest of four brothers who have all helped to give my career a head start. One worked as a trekking guide and the other two as chefs in Nepal and the UAE. Trekking was not really for me, although it was a natural choice given that my father and brother were guides. Our house in Makwanpur was often filled with foreigners, an unlikely sight in the 1980s in that part of the country.&nbsp; I was a simple village boy juggling school and farming, and was shy of foreigners. I started joining my brother on treks as a kitchen boy, including three 22-day trips across Thorung La, which was difficult but exciting.&nbsp; I was promoted to guide for groups of 20 trekkers with 60 support staff. At the end of a trek we bonded like families, and there were even tears in the last evening before goodbyes around the campfire. I made friends with local people and looked forward to the adventures. &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  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230414040436_9ea981aff3589b23f7d263e32387207e423a9d7c8399a01c0ba01d9ecf802f28.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20230414040436_9ea981aff3589b23f7d263e32387207e423a9d7c8399a01c0ba01d9ecf802f28" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="DD 28"> </figure>  Trekking was fun, but the income was seasonal. I also missed the stability of staying put in one place. Once in 1985, I had a chance meeting with a German tourist in Ghorepani who was blowing bubbles to entertain excited children. He ran a German bakery in Jawalakhel and before I knew it, I had a job there that earned me Rs500 a month. Waking up at 3AM I learnt how to make different types of bread – sourdough, multigrain, you name it – first in Jawalakhel and then in the Pokhara branch. Then I joined my brother who was an Executive Chef at Summit Hotel. In 1996 I joined my other brother who was a chef at Le Meridian in the UAE. My starting salary was much higher than in Nepal, but more importantly I gained a lot of knowledge and experience about food hygiene, customer service and standardisation of food quality.&nbsp; I worked among colleagues from over 120 countries, and learnt that hospitality was more than just serving food. I had it much easier than fellow Nepalis in the Gulf, but faced challenges. Even though I had English language skills, it was inadequate in the hospitality business.&nbsp; I ended up spending over 19 years in the UAE, working at the same bakery for ten years where I was trusted enough by my employer to make key decisions and hone my baking skills. My carrot cake was a hit. Every time I handed in a resignation letter, I got hefty salary increases. With political instability back home and a good employer, there was always a reason to postpone my homecoming. 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/20230414040436_097878927f962b41f94b95d0aaada9edeb6a4ca0cc5bf8ac138776571f004502.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20230414040436_097878927f962b41f94b95d0aaada9edeb6a4ca0cc5bf8ac138776571f004502" data-rendition-name="original" width="1536" height="2048" loading="lazy" alt="DD 28"> </figure>  Many Nepalis I know have it really hard in the Gulf. Even then, I find it discomforting when politicians refer derogatorily to us as camel grazers under the desert sun (खाडीको घाममा उँट चराउने), when truth is that there are many Nepalis engaged in high-paying jobs as well.&nbsp; By the time I left the UAE in 2015, I was making 14,000 Dirhams a month ($3,800). If I had stayed on, I would probably be earning even more. I do not want to undermine the struggle of Nepalis in the Gulf, but there are many of us who have left handsome salaries to come home and contribute meaningfully to Nepal, including as job-creators ourselves.&nbsp; The Nepal government needs to prepare its youth to compete in the overseas market so they can take up better jobs which are available, and get good promotions. There is plenty of money floating around in the Gulf, perhaps more than anywhere else in the world. With the right skills, training and approach, there is a potential for Nepalis to flourish. I decided to return after the 2015 earthquake. I had seen the UAE transform itself as a country in a short period and I wanted the same for Nepal. Except, that was easier said than done. Soon after I opened my restaurant in Nepal, the Indian Blockade of 2015 wrecked my business. I had to pay Rs7,000 for a cylinder of gas, and spent weeks cooking for my customers in firewood. My restaurant did not do well, so I started The Lemon Tree bakery in Bhaisepati and Jhamsikhel. 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/20230414040436_e4be3ffec8371b1a6d3156ef9a9f1f41e0e8c8979eae3e03509d475b5497b443.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20230414040436_e4be3ffec8371b1a6d3156ef9a9f1f41e0e8c8979eae3e03509d475b5497b443" data-rendition-name="original" width="1536" height="2048" loading="lazy" alt="DD 28"> </figure>  This was my area of expertise, and I felt more in control. I still work 15-16 hours a day and rely on my loyal customer base of both foreigners and Nepalis. I employ 14-15 workers, primarily female, who are getting well trained on the job. Both my employees and customers are like family, just like in my trekking days.&nbsp; It is not easy to work in Nepal. There are opportunities but it has to be an area in which you have experience, and requires patience. Our natural desire for overnight success and profits needs a reality check. The plan to have a bakery in Nepal was brewing in my mind for a long time, and I used to collect recipes in the UAE which I still use. Costs are high and continue to increase. Flour used to cost Rs2,700 a sack two months back and now it is Rs5,200. Even simple things like chocolate are hard to find, so we have to change brands. Loans are inaccessible, suppliers can be unreliable. Another drawback is the lack of importance given to hygiene, and some restaurants actually need to be immediately shut down. There is always a new competitor – a café or a bakery.&nbsp; But everything I have done from my trekking days, waking up at 3AM to make bread in Jawalakhel, to the years in the UAE has brought me to this time and place at The Lemon Tree. &nbsp; Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/prisoners-of-the-green-passport/"> Prisoners of the Green Passport</a>, Mahendra Thulung Rai Translated from an interview with the author. Diaspora Diaries is a regular column in Nepali Times providing a platform for Nepalis to share their experiences of living, working, studying abroad. Authentic and original entries can be sent to <a href="mailto:editors@nepalitimes.com" target="_blank">editors@nepalitimes.com</a> with 'Diaspora Diaries' in the subject line.

The return of a master baker

<img width="640" height="790" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111413118/637230399c7e80680e0c2555jpeg.jpg" alt=""/>I left for Bahrain to work as a <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/demand-grows-for-nepali-caregivers-in-israel/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">caregiver</a> in 2007, and it was only five years later that I revisited my passion for art.  Ever since I was a young boy back home in Nepal, I used to love drawing. I did not go to a school that encouraged arts and craft, but I would often find myself doodling pictures of flowers, or doing calligraphy whenever I got a chance in my personal time.  It made me feel good to make these drawings, and as I grew up my passion for artwork increased. I was not able to give it the time I wanted because life and responsibilities took over. For the first five years after arriving in Bahrain, I was not able to devote much time to painting because I did not have time and my work was demanding. But once I started getting comfortable with my job and my employer, I could start taking out time for it.  Now in retrospect, it is as if the stars aligned to make sure the artist that was always in me was allowed to blossom, even though I had to leave Nepal for a job overseas.  <img width="572" height="517" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111413118/6372303c9c7e80680e0c2556jpeg.jpg" alt="">As fate would have it, my employer happened to be an accomplished artist. What were the odds? It was providence. I admire his paintings a lot, and he is a genius who inspired me deeply. Having lived with him for over 15 years now, I have greatly benefited from his mentorship. Read the previous installments of Diaspora Diaries <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/tag/diaspora-diaries/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">here</a>.From the very outset, when my employer noticed I had a talent for drawing, he encouraged me and was generous with his time and guidance. He gives me constant feedback and buys me art supplies.  I stick to pencil drawings because my work does not lend itself to oil. I have to take care of my employer all the time, and oil painting can be messy. The colour mixes can dry up in the palette if I do not take care of it for too long, and I would not feel good wasting paint. So I stick to pencil art which I quite enjoy. After 300-400 portraits, I think I have got better at it.  <img width="640" height="562" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111413118/6372303d9c7e80680e0c2557jpeg.jpg" alt="">The nature of my work also allowed me to spend endless hours drawing. My employer had a stroke that has paralysed him, so needs assistance throughout the day and night. But there are long hours when he is resting or sleeping when I have to be nearby looking out for him, but do not have any real work to do.  And that is the time I spend making portraits of loved ones, and of strangers I admire. Each portrait can take anywhere between 5 to 15 hours, and I lose myself in the work during that time. It is therapeutic, to just forget the world and disappear in my own creative space.  Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-high-life/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">The high life</a> When I eventually return to Nepal, I want to take up art professionally as a full time engagement, and am grateful for the years in Bahrain where I was given the space to hone my skills, and have a mentor who encouraged me to keep at it.  Taking care of the same person for years, especially when the family treats me like their own, has meant I have become rather fond of my employer. He is now 81. We tell each other stories of our vastly different backgrounds. He talks fondly of his childhood. He used to be a football player when he was young and loves to show me the scars in his knee from the time he hurt himself while playing.  But he is not always cheerful, especially when he has to come to terms with his current reality. For someone as accomplished as him who has lived a successful life with a loving family, an artist who has made phenomenal oil paintings but can no longer paint, an engineer who is stuck in his wheelchair, he is often despondent.   When he is especially down, he talks about how this is the end for him, how things will only get worse from here on, and that he is just waiting to die.  Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/a-fathers-sacrifice-for-his-sons-dream/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">A father's sacrifice for his son's dream</a> <img width="640" height="518" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111413118/637230409c7e80680e0c2558jpeg.jpg" alt="">Over the past 15 years, I have grown rather attached to my employer. When I refer to myself as his servant, he scolds me, and calls me his “son”. We have our disagreements, of course, and days when things do not go too well.    But that is the nature of all jobs, we all have our grievances and things could always be better. But I know that I have it fairly easy compared to many other Nepali workers, especially when they have to work in families that are not very nice to them.    Besides, my pay is fairly good and this has enabled me to build a house back in Nepal, and improve my family’s living standard.  But most importantly, I have grown as an artist.   On his 80th birthday, I drew a portrait of my employer (pictured below). It took me 15 hours to do it, and it was a surprise gift. I asked his wife to help me frame it. When I gifted it to him, he was gleaming with happiness and hugged me.    Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/sons-of-their-fathers/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Sons of their fathers</a>, Upasana Khadka   <img width="1080" height="1331" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111413118/637230429c7e80680e0c2559jpeg.jpg" alt="">I am flying back to Bahrain after a two month leave in Nepal. I think this will be the last time I renew my contract. But I say that every time, and I extend my contract two more years. Whenever I have thought of returning home for good and he asks me to stay on, and I oblige.  There are of course practical reasons, including having this stable job with a good employer who is almost a father figure that makes me want to stay on. But there is also the attachment and the sense of responsibility I feel towards him after taking care of him for so many years.  I cannot just quit and leave when he is so fragile and dependent on me. How could I? Translated from a conversation in Nepali. 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" rel="noopener noreferrer">editors@nepalitimes.com</a> with ‘Diaspora Diaries’ in the subject line.

Painting a bright future

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101120/637208829c7e80680e0b54edjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1656" height="1142"/><figcaption>Hom Nath Giri at his desk in a company in Kuwait City. PHOTO: Hom Nath Giri</figcaption></figure>I am not sure where to start telling you the story of the journey of my life.I come from a very simple family. My father’s job as a court messenger was to deliver legal letters and messages. His salary was not enough to support our family, so in 1994 he went to Saudi Arabia where he found a job as a gardener, working outdoor in the desert heat.We communicated in letters and if we did not hear from him for over two months, my mother would start crying. The letters my siblings and I wrote to him were formal, in a style they taught us in school. They all started with ‘Sri Pujaniya Baba, Shastang Dandawat’ (Respected father, I bow to you).In all his letters over the years, my father reminded us to do well in school. One of them said:“If I had studied, I would not have had to work here as a gardener. Even in Saudi Arabia, I would have got a much better job. I would have had opportunities for promotion. But there are no promotions for gardeners like me. This is why it is important that you study. I am working here to enable you to study hard.”When my father turned 50, I decided it was time to bring him back from Saudi Arabia. He had worked very hard for ten years, and it was my turn to step up.My father came back, passed on the foreign employment baton to me. In 2004, I left for Kuwait to work as a security guard. The heat was oppressive and the work was not easy. Over a dozen of my colleagues went back to Nepal one by one, either because they were caught sleeping during duty hours and got laid off, or because they just could not bear the heat.I stayed on, determined to keep working no matter how difficult it got. I was promoted many times in the past 17 years from Shift Supervisor to Patrolling Supervisor to Operation Supervisor. Then I became the Assistant Operation Manager, Operation Manager and I am now the Assistant Managing Director.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101120/637208859c7e80680e0b54eejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1870" height="1226"><figcaption>Giri with his father and mother when they visited him in Kuwait in 2018. His father toiled as a gardener in Saudi Arabia to support his family, he died a year after this picture was taken.</figcaption></figure>I grew up delivering newspapers around Pokhara starting at 3AM on a rusty, donated bike for Rs1,000 Rupees a month. I used to be  drenched in sweat and dizzy during my 12 hour shifts as a security guard when I first arrived in Kuwait.The odds were stacked against me. I would have laughed if someone had told me I would have the position I am holding today. But it wasn’t my education that helped me rise up the ranks. Little things like my English skills, integrity and work ethics did.Foreign employment worked for me. It gave me a platform. When we aspire to go overseas, we go after manpower agents. We plead with them to connect us with jobs, we call or message them desperately. But the minute we get on the plane, we start scolding them.If I met the manpower company owner who sent me to Kuwait, I would actually thank him. My success has meant that I have been able to lift my family back in Nepal out of poverty.I have brought my brother-in-law and his son also to Kuwait for jobs. I have connected people from my village to well-paying work here. My financial strength has spillover effects on those associated with me.Read also: <a style="font-size: medium; font-weight: 600; letter-spacing: normal; background-color: #ffffff;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/in-the-minds-of-nepals-migrant-workers/">In the mind of Nepali migrant workers</a>, Upasana KhadkaWas it the Nepal government that helped me? No. It was the recruitment agency that gave me this opportunity. They get all the blame, but never the credit for success stories like mine.Of course, they deserve to be punished when they cheat workers, especially when they promise the wrong job or pay. But it is also true that they have done more for many than what the government ever did.My father’s experience in Saudi Arabia ensured that our family had enough to eat and our basic needs were met, even though we had no savings. My Kuwait experience elevated my family even more. All because of foreign employment.Luck was on my side, I realise that. There are many like me who have done well. But I must say that a large majority of Nepalis come here and leave without making much progress in their salaries or positions.Hard work is key. So is having a vision and proper planning so you have specific goals to strive towards. Many of us do not get that kind of guidance so we do not know how to make use of available opportunities.Soft skills like computers and English proficiency are critical to make use of available opportunities of which there are plenty but not well exploited by Nepalis. How do we inculcate that drive to keep learning and bettering ourselves so we are given opportunities to rise?Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/the-year-of-migrant-workers/">The year of migrant workers</a>, EditorialI started as a security guard but I relied on people around me to help me learn how to use a computer. I still remember shouting with joy when I typed a paragraph in a Word document and my colleague got it printed.I have started getting comfortable with this lifestyle. After being stuck in Nepal for 8 months during the Covid-19 pandemic, I have changed my mind about returning anytime soon. I explored opportunities in the hotel and restaurant line back home but was unable to muster the courage to make an investment and start something on my own.For me, foreign employment is a secure option. I have seen many friends who returned to Nepal for good, used up all their savings in some unsuccessful venture and came right back to Kuwait. After so many years away, we do not have the network, contextual knowledge or the ability to deal with the corruption that defines every aspect of life in Nepal. The idea that honest work can help us succeed in Nepal feels a bit far-fetched at the moment.Of course you miss the little things like taking your children to school or playing with them. But having experienced both being the son of a migrant as well as a migrant father,  I can say the situation is much better now for transnational parenting.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101120/637208889c7e80680e0b54efjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1772" height="1280"><figcaption>Giri with his son when his family visited him before the pandemic. PHOTO: HOM NATH GIRI</figcaption></figure>When I was a boy, the postman used to come every Thursday as we waited for our father’s letters. Sometimes the letters would be stuck somewhere and we would receive all six on the same day after six months of radio silence and panic. Now I see my children every few months in person and talk to them every day.Despite being away from Nepal, I feel like I can contribute more from here than if I were back home. Whether during earthquake or Covid-19, we have sent a lot of support to Nepal including oxygen cylinders.There are many Nepalis who require help in the Gulf region, and I find myself spending a good chunk of my salary and time every month helping them. I am lucky that I can do that. I often get sentimental when I go back to my apartment after dealing with people who need help. I write poetry to get the weight off my chest.What was most distressing was having to walk out of Kathmandu airport once behind men who were pushing two coffins in luggage trolleys. The bodies had been repatriated in the same flight as mine. Later, I composed these lines:घर गाउँमा रुवाबासि पिर पठाएछ,सम्झनालाई अन्तिम चिनो तस्विर पठाएछ॥खुशि बोकी घर फिर्छु भन्थ्यो परदेशीले,कठै! आज बाकसभित्र शरिर पठाएछ॥He said he would come home and bring joy,But he brought back tears and grief.He sent a photograph as a parting gift.Alas! He sent his own body home in a box.That, too, is foreign employment.One of my favourite memories is when I brought my father to Kuwait in 2018. He came to my office and sat with pride behind my desk. He told me all those years of toil in Saudi Arabia had been well worth it.What I have achieved in my life is in large part due to the motivating letters our father wrote to us from Saudi Arabia. He sacrificed his life for us. We lost him last year, and I miss him every day.Translated from a conversation with Hom Nath Giri in Kuwait. 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" rel="noopener noreferrer">editors@nepalitimes.com</a> with Diaspora Diaries in the subject line.  Read more:<a style="font-size: medium; letter-spacing: normal; background-color: #ffffff; font-weight: 600;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/diaspora-diaries-1/">Diaspora Diaries 1</a>, Nepali Times<a style="font-size: medium; letter-spacing: normal; background-color: #ffffff; font-weight: 600;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/the-days-of-international-migration/">The Days of International Migration</a>, Editorial

Diaspora Diaries  2

<figure><img width="2062" height="1152" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114091156/6372032b9c7e80680e0b27f3jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Min Dai in B P Koirala Cancer Hospital in Bharatpur before the surgery to remove his tumour. </figcaption></figure>Min Dai found it difficult to support his wife, two sons and mother while living in a squatter settlement in Chitwan, and ten years ago opted to go to Malaysia to work.He used all his savings and borrowed money to pay a recruiter for a job and flew to Malaysia in 2011 to work as a security guard at a Panasonic factory in Selangor.However, Min Dai found out he had been cheated by the recruiter, and was being paid only half the promised salary. So he left the company, <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/undocumented-Nepali-migrant-workers-in-Malaysia,3958" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/undocumented-Nepali-migrant-workers-in-Malaysia,3958&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1641445643807000&amp;usg=AOvVaw1dCJsXc8dVBHI_puDTRU4V">hoping to earn more</a> as an undocumented worker moving from one job to the next. He worked in many companies as a security guard, but because he was <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepalis-in-malaysia-to-gain-from-amnesty/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepalis-in-malaysia-to-gain-from-amnesty/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1641445643807000&amp;usg=AOvVaw2r7sTXtbV7oIayQ24h_YE0">undocumented </a>employers <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/As-It-Happens/Nepali-migrants-illegal-Malaysia-,718" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/As-It-Happens/Nepali-migrants-illegal-Malaysia-,718&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1641445643807000&amp;usg=AOvVaw148CDUzZqKNLDm38vyZCRK">often took advantage</a> of him, and did not pay his salary, or made him work without days off. He did not want to return to Nepal until he saved enough to pay back the loans he took to pay the recruiter.Last year, the 38-year-old started getting a sharp pain in his left thigh, but did not have the time to get a checkup. Without a passport, proper papers and <a href="https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/31269052/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/31269052/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1641445643807000&amp;usg=AOvVaw2wyJ1t299N1KyPO4YeS95A">insurance</a>, he could not be <a href="https://spm.um.edu.my/2020/12/06/no-need-for-immigration-enforcement-when-seeking-healthcare/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://spm.um.edu.my/2020/12/06/no-need-for-immigration-enforcement-when-seeking-healthcare/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1641445643807000&amp;usg=AOvVaw0pHRd5YEWxcZ-JIqPQPuyR">admitted to hospital.</a> <img width="2054" height="1160" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114091156/6372032e9c7e80680e0b27f4jpeg.jpg" alt=""><img width="2060" height="1166" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114091156/637203319c7e80680e0b27f5jpeg.jpg" alt="">Min Dai in 2011, just before going to Malaysia (left). Min Dai in 2018, working as a security guard in Selangor, Malaysia (right).So, Min Dai decided to return to Nepal. But the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepali-workers-in-malaysia-fear-covid-19-crackdown/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepali-workers-in-malaysia-fear-covid-19-crackdown/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1641445643807000&amp;usg=AOvVaw3WP7aIv4CFl4TgMwXZUu5T">Covid-19 pandemic </a>hit and all <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepali-migrants-again-caught-up-in-2nd-wave/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepali-migrants-again-caught-up-in-2nd-wave/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1641445643807000&amp;usg=AOvVaw3QV6UQgsq-sekFwEde2mtm">flights to Kathmandu were cancelled</a>. As his pain got worse, he finally managed to pay an agent $720 for a one-way ticket to Kathmandu in November 2011.His family eagerly awaited his return, little knowing about his health condition. He got a checkup at the B P Koirala Memorial Cancer Hospital in Bharatpur and was diagnosed with chondrosarcoma in his femur, a rare bone cancer. As an undocumented worker, Min Dai also did not qualify for support and loans from the Nepal government. Neither does he have insurance to pay for his hospital treatment. Min Dai’s wife works as a janitor in a hospital in Bharatpur and his mother runs a streetside shop. With savings nearly all gone, and the need to pay school fees for his two sons, the family is borrowing money to pay for hospital care. <figure><img width="640" height="360" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114091156/637203349c7e80680e0b27f6jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>The Nepal Embassy in Kuala Lumpur issues a one way travel certificate for undocumented workers without passports. Min Dai received his on 30 November, 2021 so he could fly back to Nepal.</figcaption></figure>Doctors performed an endoprosthetic surgery on Min Dai’s leg last week and removed a large tumour after a nine hour operation. A biopsy will determine the course of future treatment, but medical costs are expected to be extensive. <img width="640" height="352" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114091156/637203379c7e80680e0b27f7jpeg.jpg" alt=""><img width="640" height="338" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114091156/6372033a9c7e80680e0b27f8jpeg.jpg" alt="">Min Dai’s pathology report on 19 December that confirmed chondrosarcoma (left). Surgery details by the doctor at BP Koirala Cancer Hospital (right).Min Dai is recovering in the ICU at the Bharatpur hospital, and may need to be in hospital for at least another month. Part of the hospital bills were paid for through a <a href="https://www.gofundme.com/f/CancerCare4Min" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.gofundme.com/f/CancerCare4Min&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1641445643807000&amp;usg=AOvVaw3__J_17kLCBwBnS6kEQa4p">GoFundMe campaign</a> launched by Min Dai’s well-wishers which has so far raised $2,681 of the $13,000 goal.Contributions have gone to pay for Min Dai’s hospital bills, and his supporters have made an appeal for further donations which will go to repay some of his loans.Contributions can be made through the ‘Cancer Care for Min Dai’ GoFundMe Campaign: <a href="https://www.gofundme.com/f/CancerCare4Min" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.gofundme.com/f/CancerCare4Min&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1641445643807000&amp;usg=AOvVaw3__J_17kLCBwBnS6kEQa4p">https://www.gofundme.com/f/CancerCare4Min</a> or through the following bank account in Nepal:Bank Name: Global IME BankAccount Name: Hira GurungAccount number: 0107010040271

Appeal for cancer care for Nepali worker

<figure><img width="960" height="1280" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141128/636cfc789c7e80680e0a0b8ejpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>All photos: UPASANA KHADKA</figcaption></figure>Thousands of Nepal’s outbound workers have been waiting in packed queues for hours, sometimes days, in the capital to obtain electronic <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepalis-queueing-up-all-night-for-proof-of-jab/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">proof of vaccination</a> amid fears that the crowds have turned into a breeding ground for the coronavirus. They have braved the rain and withstood heat, as seen in these pictures of migrants at the National Ayurveda Research and Training Centre in Kirtipur on Sunday.  <img width="1000" height="1333" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141128/636cfc7b9c7e80680e0a0b8fjpeg.jpg" alt=""><img width="1142" height="718" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141128/636cfc7d9c7e80680e0a0b90jpeg.jpg" alt=""><img width="960" height="1280" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141128/636cfc7f9c7e80680e0a0b91jpeg.jpg" alt=""><img width="1000" height="1333" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141128/636cfc829c7e80680e0a0b92jpeg.jpg" alt=""><img width="1000" height="1333" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141128/636cfc859c7e80680e0a0b93jpeg.jpg" alt="">Destination countries like Saudi Arabia, Qatar and the UAE, which accounted for 80% of labour approvals in 2020-21, require migrants to have government-verified vaccination certificates. The newly-issued government proof of vaccine has a unique QR code for authentication, following concerns about the acceptability of previously provided paper-based vaccine documents. Outbound workers headed overseas can also obtain electronic certificates <a href="https://vaccine.mohp.gov.np/public-request-form">online</a>.For Nepali migrant workers, the vaccine certificate is only the latest among a long checklist of permits, certificates and authorisations to complete before their departure. Moreover, changing vaccine requirements, the authenticity of paper-based certification and the availability of doses have added to the problems for outbound migrants who are harassed every step of the way.Yet, such is the desperation of Nepalis that they are lining up for days to obtain a simple piece of paper for overseas jobs amid shrinking opportunities at home and abroad. Workers who have relied on migration to break out of intergenerational poverty now have to deal with Covid-induced policy changes in destination countries. Meanwhile, Nepalis earning a daily wage and those working in tourism and agriculture have suffered <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/half-of-nepalis-lost-jobs-in-past-month/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">job losses</a> and or reduced income at home. Hiring freezes and travel bans from destination countries due to public health concerns following the pandemic saw the number of annual labour approvals fall below 100,000 to just over 72,000 in 2020-21, the lowest in 20 years. <img src="data:image/png;base64,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" alt="pastedGraphic.png"/> In comparison, <a href="https://ccmc.gov.np/ccmc2/ccmc_update/No.of%20Nepali%20Repatriated%202078.04.05.pdf">nearly 500,000 Nepali workers</a> were repatriated from across the world during the pandemic.

Nepali workers queue up for QR codes

<figure><img width="945" height="727" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121156/636ce72c9c7e80680e0967aajpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Nepali family living in Goa for the past 10 years: Amar Tiruva and his wife Radha with their daughter, Antara. Radha died this week, and Amar is in a ventilator. Antara is being cared for by a neighbourhood church.</figcaption></figure>Amar Tiruva and his wife Radha have been living in Goa for the past ten years. They have an 11-year-old daughter, Antara.The family was happy in the former Portuguese enclave, with a comfortable job in the city. Although they had been feeling the impact of the pandemic, everything changed two weeks ago.Both Amar and Radha, who are in their thirties, tested positive for Covid-19. As their condition worsened, the couple was admitted to Goa Medical College for treatment, while social workers from a neighbourhood church looked after Antara. <img width="545" height="905" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121156/636ce72e9c7e80680e0967abjpeg.jpg" alt="">On 24 April, Radha succumbed to the virus, and Amar’s condition is getting worse. He is unconscious in a ventilator, unaware that his wife has died. It took three days for volunteers to cremate Radha’s body because of the long queue at the crematorium. Antara has been told that her mother did not make it, and is distraught. Amar’s 80-year-old mother in Nepal’s Kailali district is herself not in good health. She prays for her son’s recovery, and feels helpless so far away, says Amar’s nephew Kamal who lives in Mumbai but cannot go to Goa because of the travel restrictions.The Tiruva family’s struggle and tragedy is just a drop in India’s vast ocean of grief as the Subcontinent is engulfed in the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/unmasking-the-second-wave/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Covid-19 second wave</a>. India is recording more than 300,000 new cases every day for the past five days (see graphs below), and the official death toll this week exceeded 200,000. However, public health experts say these figures are a gross underestimation.   <figure><img width="1432" height="793" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121156/636ce7309c7e80680e0967acjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img width="828" height="702" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121156/636ce7339c7e80680e0967adjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>There are an estimated 3 million Nepalis <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/the-long-journey-to-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">working all over India</a>, but the number could be higher since no records are kept of seasonal migrants. Officially, 40 Nepalis have died in the current Covid-19 surge in India, with 100 hospitalised, but that number is certainly much higher.The Nepal Embassy in New Delhi has been inundated with calls for help, but has been able to do little more than issue a statement asking Nepalis in India to observe all health precautions since the hospitals are all full. Ambassador Nilambar Acharya says he has also been lobbying with the Indian government to lift the export ban on the Covishield vaccine manufactured by Serum Institute of India.<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/the-india-connection-in-nepals-covid-19-status/">The India connection in Nepal’s COVID-19 status</a>, Nepali TimesIndia <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/jabs-and-jab-nots/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">gifted Nepal 1 million doses in February</a>, and Nepal paid for 2 million more doses, but only half the consignment arrived before India diverted vaccines to address its own emergency. Ambassador Acharya said, “The Indian government has assured us that it will put Nepal on a priority for vaccines.”R B Khadka of the Akhil Bharat-Nepali Ekata Manch maintains a network of Nepalis all over India, and had been helping those in need since last year. But he says the scale of the crisis this time is too big to handle, adding that with the shortage of hospital beds, oxygen supply for Indians, there is little hope for Nepalis, particularly poorer migrant labourers.“I am getting calls day and night from desperate Nepalis asking if I can arrange an oxygen cylinder, a hospital bed or for remdesivir, I have lost hope and I cannot lie to them anymore and say I will try to help,” Khadka told Nepali Times. <figure><img width="2250" height="1600" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121156/636ce7359c7e80680e0967aejpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Another Nepali resident, Hari Raila, ran a small eatery in Delhi’s Paharganj neighbourhood. His condition had been getting steadily worse, and he was being transported by ambulance to the Nepal border but died on the way in Uttar Pradesh’s Muradabad as he struggled to breathe.All this week, relatives of another Nepali, Bishnu Paudyal, had been trying unsuccessfully to get him admitted to a hospital in the suburbs like Guragaon, Ghaziabad and Faridabad. But he couldn’t get a bed, and died from lack of oxygen in his blood on Tuesday.Some Nepalis like Raila are even being taken to Nepal, in the belief that things are better there. Others have been heading to hospitals as far as Rajasthan and Madhya Pradesh. But private hospitals charge as much as IRs500,000 to IRs2million to admit patients. Ambulances cost IRs15,000 to take patients to hospital, and few Nepalis can afford that. Remdisvir is selling for Rs20,000 per dose in the black market. From Mumbai, Kamal Tiruva says he would like to take his nephew back to Nepal from Goa, but knows it is impossible.<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/indians-use-nepal-to-circumvent-travel-bans/">Indians use Nepal to circumvent travel bans</a>, Nepali Times <figure><img width="1125" height="1500" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121156/636ce7399c7e80680e0967afjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>On 26 April, the New Delhi-based South Asian University issued a notice to all students to evacuate its hostel. Some Nepali students have no alternatives, and have stayed on despite having tested positive.“Although the University has issued a notice, there is nowhere to go,” says Bipin Ghimire, a PhD student of International Relations, who says hospitals this week turned back Nepali students who were sick. “We saw patients in stretchers waiting in the corridors, doctors were attending to them outdoors.”Ghimire continues to self-quarantine in the hostel itself, but Makan Tamang along with three other Nepali students decided to travel to Nepal via Gorakhpur because one way air tickets now cost Rs50,000. <figure><img width="1500" height="1125" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121156/636ce73c9c7e80680e0967b0jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>“I am happy that I am going home,” Tamang, who is from Melamchi, said on the phone while on the highway, “but I am worried about what will happen at the border.”Suresh Raj Neupane has been in New Delhi for the past three years as the India correspondent for Nepal's Kantipur newspaper.  He finds it unfair that even though there are more Nepali workers in India than in the Gulf and Malaysia combined, the government back home does not care much for them.“It is unfortunate that Nepalis working overseas are given more emphasis despite the Supreme Court’s ruling to assist Nepali workers in India,” says Neupane, who has been covering the plight of Nepalis here. “India is actually the biggest source of remittances for Nepal, with workers sending home Rs130 billion a year.”_________________  <h2>Nepalis caught between helpless states</h2> The Nepal Embassy in India has assured Nepalis that those with the Aadhar identity card and a permanent address in India are eligible for the vaccines, but many Nepali labourers say they have been denied vaccines due to the lack of documents. Anoo Bhuyan, health reporter of the portal India Spend who has been reporting on the Covid-19 second wave, says, “What has happened in India is a humanitarian crisis and the government of India should have been more proactive and accountable for their actions in curbing the virus.”She says that since the lockdown, all the vaccination centres have been shut and while the government has pledged to roll out vaccines for those under 45 by 1 May, it has been trying to hide the fact that there is a shortage of vaccines, as well as oxygen cylinders and other medical supplies.Despite India’s shortage, the Nepal government has asked the Indian government to also lift a ban on export of liquid oxygen which some Nepali private importers rely on to fill cylinders.“Nepal and India have a very special relationship and the border is open, we have to help each other, and we will continue to do so in a time of such a catastrophe,” Nepal's ambassador to India Nilambar Acharya (right) told Nepali Times.The Nepal Embassy has urged the Indian government to provide the same facilities as Indian citizens for Nepalis workers here for vaccines, tests and treatment. <figure><img width="200" height="294" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121156/636ce7409c7e80680e0967b1jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The former chief Minister of Jammu and Kashmir, <a href="https://twitter.com/OmarAbdullah" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Omar Abdullah</a> told Nepali Times he will be asking around in his constituency about Nepalis in Kashmir and Ladakh who may be in difficulty. He added, “We will reach out to those who need assistance.”Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/the-covid-tsunami/">The Covid tsunami</a>, Editorial

nepali-migrant-workers