Erik Larsson :
Only a few millimeters of corrugated metal keeps us apart from the advancing dusk. Inside the shack, the family has strung cardboard boxes and pieces of cloth along the walls and ceiling to form some insulation from the cold of night.
Crowded in the shack are Rohan Tamang, his wife, their two-year-old daughter and his parents who all live together in the small village of Rayala, which is a three-hour car drive south of the Nepalese capital Kathmandu.
There is the rippling sound of nearby streams as the village balances on the steep slopes of the Himalayas. Well-trodden paths connect the houses that still stand after the devastating earthquake two years ago.
Some effects remain visible. Collapsed roofs and cracks on the sides of buildings. There were over 9000 deaths.
Nepal is one of the poorest nations, and it is also the country that is most dependent on the money sent back by its population now making a living abroad.
This dependence on remittances has increased since the earthquake. Now 4 million Nepalese, roughly one fourth of the work force, work abroad and generate almost one third of the GDP.
Nepal is among the poorest and least developed countries in the world. While the figures for unemployment are low, around 4%, many in the labor force are only partially employed with low salaries.
According to the World Bank, only 75% of Nepal’s population have a steady supply of electricity.
Villagers seeking jobs need to bribe the local agents in order to be offered a job. The amounts demanded vary greatly. Figures range from 600 to 2000 Euros. In a country where one fifth of the working population makes less than 2 Euros per day, the bribes are small fortunes.
The less qualifications, the higher the bribes.
Omit Gurang is aware of the bribe system.
“There are those who would pay 5000 euro for an overseas job”. “Not with us” he adds, disclaiming any involvement, “but if you go to other agencies, this goes on all the time”.
He feels that there have been positive changes over the past year for the migrant workers and thinks that the “Kalafasystem” which supplies the Middle East with laborers, is steadily on the way to disappearing.
The liquor is served warm. It’s moonshine called Raksi, distilled from a mash of rice, banana and apple. A villager has opened their door and invited strangers into their home.
We are sitting on the floor, watching the daughter of the family fry vegetables over an open fire. The room is filled with smoke.
A curious neighbor comes in through the door. He’s in his fifties and slurs a polite hello. He is quickly handed a glass.
“In the evenings we invite each other over for a drink. I come here, then we go to my house. And on and on”, he says laughing.
The men share gossip about the villagers. Newly-wedded husbands are often on their way abroad in order to provide for the family they are starting. It’s a classic story, that doesn’t always end well.
In early 2017 the song “Saili” became a huge hit in Nepal.
One could hear it playing everywhere. In cities and in villages. In the bars and in homes. The song is about a young couple in love. The man says he shall travel abroad to work but that they will enjoy a happy family life when they turn 40.
The video for the song is five minutes of unending tears. The popularity of the song came through a recognition of both the words and the message: work first and then enjoy the fruits of labor in the future.
There is a lot of talk in Nepal about families that are being torn apart.
The next morning a group of men have gathered next to the bumpy road that passes through the village. The men stand around chatting. I suddenly catch a glimpse of Rohan Tamang among the young men. He says a cheerful hello.
“I’m just off to a nearby village to do some errands”, he explains.
There are still 13 days to go before he leaves for Qatar.
Only a few millimeters of corrugated metal keeps us apart from the advancing dusk. Inside the shack, the family has strung cardboard boxes and pieces of cloth along the walls and ceiling to form some insulation from the cold of night.
Crowded in the shack are Rohan Tamang, his wife, their two-year-old daughter and his parents who all live together in the small village of Rayala, which is a three-hour car drive south of the Nepalese capital Kathmandu.
There is the rippling sound of nearby streams as the village balances on the steep slopes of the Himalayas. Well-trodden paths connect the houses that still stand after the devastating earthquake two years ago.
Some effects remain visible. Collapsed roofs and cracks on the sides of buildings. There were over 9000 deaths.
Nepal is one of the poorest nations, and it is also the country that is most dependent on the money sent back by its population now making a living abroad.
This dependence on remittances has increased since the earthquake. Now 4 million Nepalese, roughly one fourth of the work force, work abroad and generate almost one third of the GDP.
Nepal is among the poorest and least developed countries in the world. While the figures for unemployment are low, around 4%, many in the labor force are only partially employed with low salaries.
According to the World Bank, only 75% of Nepal’s population have a steady supply of electricity.
Villagers seeking jobs need to bribe the local agents in order to be offered a job. The amounts demanded vary greatly. Figures range from 600 to 2000 Euros. In a country where one fifth of the working population makes less than 2 Euros per day, the bribes are small fortunes.
The less qualifications, the higher the bribes.
Omit Gurang is aware of the bribe system.
“There are those who would pay 5000 euro for an overseas job”. “Not with us” he adds, disclaiming any involvement, “but if you go to other agencies, this goes on all the time”.
He feels that there have been positive changes over the past year for the migrant workers and thinks that the “Kalafasystem” which supplies the Middle East with laborers, is steadily on the way to disappearing.
The liquor is served warm. It’s moonshine called Raksi, distilled from a mash of rice, banana and apple. A villager has opened their door and invited strangers into their home.
We are sitting on the floor, watching the daughter of the family fry vegetables over an open fire. The room is filled with smoke.
A curious neighbor comes in through the door. He’s in his fifties and slurs a polite hello. He is quickly handed a glass.
“In the evenings we invite each other over for a drink. I come here, then we go to my house. And on and on”, he says laughing.
The men share gossip about the villagers. Newly-wedded husbands are often on their way abroad in order to provide for the family they are starting. It’s a classic story, that doesn’t always end well.
In early 2017 the song “Saili” became a huge hit in Nepal.
One could hear it playing everywhere. In cities and in villages. In the bars and in homes. The song is about a young couple in love. The man says he shall travel abroad to work but that they will enjoy a happy family life when they turn 40.
The video for the song is five minutes of unending tears. The popularity of the song came through a recognition of both the words and the message: work first and then enjoy the fruits of labor in the future.
There is a lot of talk in Nepal about families that are being torn apart.
The next morning a group of men have gathered next to the bumpy road that passes through the village. The men stand around chatting. I suddenly catch a glimpse of Rohan Tamang among the young men. He says a cheerful hello.
“I’m just off to a nearby village to do some errands”, he explains.
There are still 13 days to go before he leaves for Qatar.
· IPS
