A Visit to the Hillary Schools

The Nepal Himalaya

[A quick note: The capitalized word, “Sherpa” does not mean “porter,” but is the name of an entire group of people who originally migrated from Tibet about five-hundred years ago. Literally, “Sherpa” means “Easterner.” Khumbu is the name of the region of Himalayan Nepal where the Sherpas live. Khumbu is also inhabited by other ethnic groups.]

Bursting with Joy

In 1963 Sir Edmund Hillary and the famous Sherpa, Tenzing Norgay became the first mountaineers to verifiably reach the summit of Mount Everest. This was Sir Edmund Hillary’s most famous accomplishment, but not his most important – nor perhaps his most difficult. Certainly it was not climbing Everest that brought him virtual demigod status among the Nepalese. Rather, it was his lifelong dedication to helping the Sherpa people in Nepal to improve their lives in ways that they themselves requested.

A used oxygen bottle is a school bell in Namche Bazaar

In a famous conversation, Hillary asked the Sherpas what he could do for them to repay them for their friendship and invaluable assistance with his various expeditions. Their reply was that, while there was little that they envied about Westerners, they did very much wish their children to be educated. As one Sherpa put it, the children “have eyes, but still they are blind.” Or, as Hillary’s assistant, James F. Fisher, writes in his book, “The Sherpas realized early on that although they had never needed special institutions to learn how to become Sherpas – the traditional avenues of socialization and enculturation were enough for that – they needed modern schools if they were to have hopes of dealing with the outside world in anything but a subordinate, submissive way.” For context, it is important to understand that this conversation occurred at a time when the Sherpa’s income from trade with Tibet had recently been cut off by the Chinese closing the border, but new business opportunities were being created by the influx of Western tourists that were beginning to visit Khumbu.

New day rising over Namche Bazaar

I decided to visit Khumbu to see for myself the effects of Hillary’s work. For my flight to Lukla, I arrived bright and early at 5:15 a.m. Just in time to hurry up and wait for my 6:15 flight that was delayed due to weather in the mountains. However, I was fortunate that the flight was not cancelled, and by 10:00 we were cleared to go. The flight to Lukla is quite beautiful, but the approach to the airfield can be a bit hair-raising – actually, it is quite fun if you like flying and have faith in statistical safety. The airfield is a famously difficult one to land at, and only open to STOL (Short Takeoff and Landing) planes. Not only is the airfield short, at high altitude, and surrounded by mountains (and hence, tricky winds), but the runway is not level. Rather, pilots must land uphill. At least this means that takeoffs are downhill, which is helpful in the thin air. There are not too many flights that I’ve been on where the landing has received applause from the passengers, but our pilot and co-pilot certainly earned theirs. (If you’re interested in seeing what the landing approach is like, go to www.youtube.com and search for “Lukla Landing,” there are a number videos posted)

Takeoff from Lukla - It's all downhill from here!

My base for day hikes to the Hillary Schools was the town of Namche Bazaar. While someone in good shape and acclimatized to the altitude could walk from Lukla up to Namche in one long day, I was grateful for the excuse that acclimatization gave me to take two days for the journey. I found the second day, which ends with a 2 ½ hour, steep uphill grind, strenuous enough all by itself. It also gave me an appreciation for the hard work that the people in this region do.

Porter and Prayer Carvings

We tend to hear stories about Sherpas carrying massive loads on their backs as they effortlessly run up mountainsides. While the loads they carry verge on the superhuman, they are in fact quite human. They pant, sweat and need to rest frequently. All goods arrive in Khumbu this way, so there is steep price increase on everything that you buy. For instance, a bottle of water that would cost $0.18 US Dollars in Kathmandu will cost you $1.18 in Namche Bazaar. I understand that the further you go from Lukla, the higher the prices go, which makes a lot of sense – I sure wouldn’t carry bottles of water up mountains for free. Refilling your water bottle at the tap and using water purifier tablets saves money, and does not flood Khumbu with discarded plastic bottles.

Luxury items on their way to Namche Bazaar

Namche Bazaar is the main hub from which the trek to Everest Base Camp begins. From high vantage points near town, Mount Everest is visible in the distance, but reaching its base takes about five days of hard walking and acclimatization. Unfortunately, I did not have time to do any real trekking, as my time was short, and I was there to visit schools. Perhaps this was as well. Due to the strenuous walking needed to reach each school, and a persistent cold, I was only able to visit two of the three schools that I had intended, but was very fortunate in the quality of the interviews that I got. I was also extremely lucky to be able to interview the doctor at Khunde Hospital (also built by Hillary and co.), and I provide his story here as an excellent example of what the Hillary Schools, and scholarships through The Hillary Foundation/Himalayan Trust have made possible for the Sherpas.

One of the many bridges between Lukla and Namche

Dr. Kami Temba Sherpa is a soft-spoken, intelligent man in his early fifties whose entire life has been shaped by Sir Edmund Hillary’s work. When Hillary constructed a school in his village of Thame, Kami was six years old. Though his siblings were all too old to start school, Kami was the perfect age, and so he was the only one who got an education. He was a bright, motivated student who loved learning, and was consistently at the top of the class. He recalls that Sir Edmund Hillary used to visit the school twice a year, and Kami was greatly impressed by hearing Hillary’s Sherpa guide speak excellent English. He was determined that he too would learn English, and so he studied hard. His studies payed off, and as he progressed, he realized how poor the guide’s English had really been.

Ama Dablam from the trail to Khumjung

To continue past 4^th grade, Kami had to attend middle school outside his village at the famous Hillary school in Khumjung. Walking from Thame to Khumjung and back takes about four hours roundtrip. So, for his first year at Khumjung, Kami and his best friend rented a small room near the school. Soon they found that with all of the necessary tasks of cooking their own meals, gathering their own firewood, and fetching water (water was a problem in Khumjung at that time) took so much time and energy that they decided it was better to just live at home and walk for four hours a day – at least dinner would be ready for when they arrived. Day after day they made this journey until, at last, they completed 7^th grade at Khumjung.

Women's Work, Nepal

Each year Hillary’s foundation made two scholarships available for students to pursue a high school education, which at that time was not available locally (Now it is possible to complete high school in Khumjung). Both Kami and his friend were awarded these scholarships and were able to continue their education in Kathmandu. Unfortunately, none of their other friends were able to continue to high school, because without assistance it was financially impossible. After completing his high school education, Kami returned to his village and served for a short time as a teacher at the primary school that he had attended as a boy. Soon, however, Kami made the acquaintance of the doctor at Khunde hospital, and was asked if he would be interested in training to become a health worker in Thame. He accepted the offer, and after some months of training in Khunde, returned to his village.

Porters quarry and carry stones for a construction project

After a little more time of serving as both a teacher and a health worker in Thame, Kami accepted an offer to become an assistant at the Khunde Hospital. After holding this position for about twelve years, he was asked if he would be interested in training to become a doctor. So, once again the Himalayan Trust paid for Kami to go to school. He attended medical school at the University of the South Pacific in Fiji. After five and a half years of study in Fiji, and several years of internship, residency and work in Kathmandu and elsewhere in Nepal, Dr. Kami returned Khunde Hospital, where he has served as a doctor for the past seven years. Now, Kami’s son has finished medical school and has decided to spend a couple of years in Khunde working alongside his father.

Women approach a mani wall on the trail from Khunde

Not only did Hillary’s efforts have a positive effect on Kami’s life, but the hospital Hillary built in Khunde has had huge ramifications for the lives of the Sherpas and the other ethnic groups in the region. Previous to Hillary’s construction of the Khunde Hospital, there were huge incidences of thyroid deficiency diseases such as cretinism and goiter among the Sherpas, due to a lack of iodine in their diet. Now, thanks to Iodine pills and injections administered in the schools by Khunde Hospital, these problems have nearly been eliminated in Khumbu. The population rate in Khumu has also decreased due to the availability of family planning. Having smaller families with fewer mouths to feed has lead to an increase in living standard and better health among the Sherpas.

Tibetan Buddhism is the cornerstone of the Sherpa culture

There is much debate over the effect that introducing modern education has on a culture. There is always the risk that education will make children feel that their culture, their parents and their lives are backwards. However, I think that it is hard not to see Hillary’s work with the schools as a great success. In fact, the Hillary Schools may have helped the Sherpas to maintain their sense of cultural identity. In many countries, the businesses that serve and profit from tourists are mainly owned by foreigners, while the local people are low-paid workers in these establishments. Because they had access to education, the Sherpas have been able to use tourism to their own advantage. The Sherpas are the ones who own most of the trekking agencies, outfitters, restaurants and guest houses – they even manufacture their own line of outdoor apparel. This financial success has allowed them to put more money into building monasteries and afford to send their children to study at them. Tibetan Buddhism is the cornerstone of Sherpa culture, and where it had once been in decline with fewer and fewer monks staying in the monasteries, there is now a resurgence.

Prayer Wheels, Khumjung

The Sherpa language is taught to the young children in school, alongside Nepali and English. And, of course, financial success and the help of The Himalayan Trust, have allowed Sherpa parents to send their children to the best available schools, whether in Khumbu or elsewhere in Nepal, and to insure that their children have every opportunity for their own success. While nothing is ever simple or some concessions, compromises and tradeoffs, from what I’ve seen, it seems that the Hillary Schools have allowed the Sherpas the ability to successfully adapt to, and profit from, new circumstances, while maintaining their pride and their cultural identity.

School Boy, Namche Bazaar

[In learning about the Sherpas, I have been greatly aided by James F. Fisher’s book, “Sherpas: Reflections on Change in Himalayan Nepal.” It is available from The University of California Press. James F. Fisher was Hillary’s school-building assistant in the 1960’s, and is Professor ofAnthropology at Carleton College.]

Khumbu

Timeout in Thailand

I had promised Katrina a little beach time before the end of our travels, so before she went home we took a break from our project and spent a little time just relaxing somewhere nice. So, this is what we were doing in Ko Samui while Bangkok spiraled into riots and chaos. Decadent, huh?

Thai Dancer

Fisherwomen - Ko Samui

Fisherwoman

Postcard

I'm now in the Himalayan region of Nepal doing research on the schools that Sir Edmund Hillary helped to build for the Sherpa people. More on that later...

Major Dil Bahadur Gurung

Major Dil Bahadur Gurung

When the Major was a boy there was no school in his village. Getting to the nearest school from his home in Galem, Nepal would have meant a 2-hour walk down a dangerous foot path clinging to the side of a mountain, followed by a 2 1/2 hour uphill journey back. During the monsoon this narrow, exposed path is particularly treacherous, and there is always the danger of a rockslide (which are often started by monkeys higher up on the mountain). Not surprisingly, the children in Galem did not go to school. Not only was the nearest school too far away and too dangerous to get to, but the children were needed to help on the farm. So, the children's lives consisted of rising at the crack of dawn, feeding the animals and then going out with baskets slung on their back to collect heavy loads of firewood and feed for the animals.

The recently widened(!) path to Galem

Major Dil Bahadur Gurung would never have had a chance to go to school if it hadn't been for a very lucky break. In 1954, his cousin, who served as a Gurkha in the British Army, offered to take the boy with him to his posts around the world. And so Dilbahadur went to school for the first time at the age of 14. He went for three years, going to school in Hong Kong and Malaysia. He recalls this time as being difficult on the one hand, as he was trying to learn from teachers speaking a different language, but this was also a very happy time that was full of surprises and new experiences. Then, in 1957 Dilbahadur joined the British Gurkhas himself.

Namaste! A kindergarten student and her teacher

A little girl in Galem has opportunities her grandmother could not have imagined

Becoming a Gurkha is no small feat. The Gurkhas are an elite force, and each year thousands of young Nepali men vie for a handful of positions. Only the best of the best are selected, and they are paid well, receiving about ten times the salary of a soldier in Nepal’s military. Not only did Dil Bahadur become a Gurkha, but he rose progressively through the ranks: Private, Lance Corporal, Corporal, Sergeant, Sergeant Major, Lieutenant, Captain, and finally, Major. All with only three years of schooling before joining the military. During his career, the Major served in Hong Kong, Singapore and Brunnei. He raised five children and put them all through school, including a son who earned a degree in law, and a daughter who finished a bachelor’s degree.

Wearing her finest, Galem

Villager with Tika

Meanwhile, however, little had changed in Galem. In 1958, the government finally built a primary school in Galem. It was a single-room hut and the first class had 15 boys; later, girls were allowed to attend. Nonetheless, continuing school past the primary level was still such a hardship that the children had few options beyond joining the military or growing up to be farmers like their parents. Moreover, by the time the Major retired in 1986, the school was leaking badly and unable to accommodate enough children.

The Major in front of the school he helped build

The Major and his "troops"

Though he now spent most of his time in the city of Pokhara, Major Dil Bahadur dedicated himself
to improving life for the people in his village. As education was not an option when he was a child, the Major decided that educating the children of the village should be the first order of business.
Major Gurung was able to enlist the help of the Gurkhas; he received a grant from the Gurkha foundation, and raised funds from his many colleagues and friends. A pair of Italian doctors also donated heavily to construct the modern, multi-room school that stands in Galem today. With more rooms, the school is now able to accommodate students through grade 8. However, the problem has remained that to continue their schooling to grade 10 (the grade that a student needs to complete to apply for most decent jobs) the students must still make the grueling 4½ hour round trip to the nearest upper secondary school. To continue to grade 11 and 12 (called “college” or “plus one” and “plus two” in Nepal), they have to go even further away. The Major is currently working with the Nepali government to get them to fund grades 9 & 10 in Gallum. As the outlook for that is not so good (they don't even fund grade 8 in Galem!), the Major has already begun raising private funds to pay the teachers’ salaries, and two new rooms two house these grades are already under construction.

Taking a break from exams, Galem

Other improvements that the Major has facilitated for the school include a library, kindergarten with a kitchen, toilets for the boys and girls, and sports facilities. He has also brought clean water to Galem, enabled the town to improve the path to the village, and recently helped the town to acquire a motherhood health clinic.

Motherhood Clinic, Galem

New classrooms being built to accomodate the addition of 9th & 10th grades

It was my great pleasure to be able to accompany the Major on a visit to Galem along with a group of NGO representatives and reporters. For a man who has every right to be proud, the Major is a surprisingly modest man who treats everyone with great respect. The village itself is a breath of fresh air from those that lie on the well worn tourist track. The people of Galem put on quite a welcoming ceremony for us; greeting us at the edge of town, festooning us with flowers and silk scarves, and performing music and dance for us. Such ceremonies are not always sincere, but it was clear that the people of Galem were not just being polite, or just performing for us; They were polite because they are polite, and they were enjoying themselves fully, singing, dancing and laughing even when the delegation was occupied inside with presentations. We were just an excuse to have a party, and as we started the long walk back to our vehicles, we could hear the music and singing fading into the distance.

Villagers celebrating while the delegation retires inside

The party continues as the delegation departs

Helping a student in Galem is not hard to do, nor is it expensive. The Major has set up a scholarship program for the best and most needy students. $100 will support a student for one year, and can make the difference between staying in school or dropping out.

If you would like to donate, you can make out a check to:

Shree Sheetala Nimna Madhyamik Vidhyalaya (that's the name of the school!) and make a note on the check that this is for a scholarship

And, send it to:

Major Dil Bahadur Gurung 'MVO' (ret.)
Chairman
Ganeshmansing Road
Block No. 418
Bagale Tole - 8
Pokhara, Nepal

I doubt that this donation will be tax deductible in the U.S., but I'm positive that it will be money well spent.

For more information, you can contact Major Dil Bahadur by email: galemdanda@yahoo.com

Bright eyes and a bright future

Woman with Bindi

Take my picture, too!

A moustache-proud fellow

Gentleman of Galem

Dressed for celebration

Terraced fields, Galem

Rain at Last!

Every year the dry season brings problems to Nepal, but this year has been exceptional. Depending on who you ask, there has been no rain in Kathmandu for 4 to 6 months. Of course this causes problems with crops and means that fewer wells have water. With terrible pollution from decrepit vehicles and slash-and-burn agriculture, lack of rainfall also results in a thick layer of pollution hanging in the air throughout the Kathmandu valley. As you might imagine, respiratory infections are common here.

Furthermore, all of Nepal's electricity comes from hydroelectric power, so the dry season also brings a shortage of electricity. The situation is so bad this year that electricity is only available for a few hours each day. To make matters worse, these precious "white-ins," as I call them, often occur after midnight. There is no real schedule to all of this, so everyone (including businesses that rely on electricity) has to play a guessing game. Ironically, it is Nepal's cities that receive the fewest hours of electricity each day. For instance, Kathmandu only had about 4 hours of electricity while we were awake; there was often another 4 hours while we slept.

Sadly, there is more to Nepal's electricity problem than just a lack of water. I am told that many hydro-electric plants are out of commission due to poor maintenance. Furthermore, during the recent Maoist revolution, insurgents destroyed power plants. Now that they are the ruling party, the Maoists are suffering from their own sabotage; they refuse to fix the problem, as they blame the previous party for not fixing it earlier. Lastly, part of Nepal's limited electricity is being supplied to India, as a method of repaying past debts.


For all of these reasons, people have been hoping and praying for rain, and you can imagine their joy when the first rain in six months finally came! Katrina and I were lucky enough to be in Patan's Durbar Square on our way to dinner when the lightning started. I hurried back to the guesthouse to grab my camera gear, and poor Katrina was left holding a box of take-away momo's while her obsessive husband ran around hoping to catch lightning flashes with long exposures.

The rain finally came down in force and we had to take shelter by squeezing against the palace wall with a number of other people. Then the hail came. Fortunately, this was not the baseball-sized hail that had caused fatalities last year, but it came in buckets! During a brief respite in the storm, Katrina and I high-tailed it for the shelter of a restaurant. We dined by candlelight (both romantic and a necessity!) while the skies opened up again and hail came down so fiercely that the restaurant's courtyard started to look like an ice skating rink.

After the rain stopped again, we quickly paid our bill (needless to say, I tipped our poor waiter rather heavily) and headed for the guesthouse. In the square, people were celebrating the coming of rain, and kids were excitedly splashing around and throwing fist-fulls of hail. The streets were now ankle-deep rivers of rushing ice water, but we were able to edge our way down the narrow raised sidewalks, and arrived at the hotel with miraculously dry feet. To top it all off, there was electricity waiting for us! (Talk about a trifecta.)

That was our last night in Nepal, and we are now in Thailand, where last night it rained for the first time in months -- just call me "Rain Maker!"

A Restaurant for Vultures?

Bob's "glamor" shot

It's not easy being an ugly, bald scavenger. Vultures have an image problem that is difficult to overcome. Unfortunately, this negative image is working against them at a time when several species of Asian vultures are at great risk of going extinct. In the past fifteen years or so, the population of the Gyps vultures (white-back, slender-billed and long-billed) has dropped at a frightening rate in India, Nepal and Pakistan. An estimated 99.8% of the population has vanished during this time; that means that for every 500 Gyps vultures alive 15 years ago, there is now only one.

Kevin rules the roost at Maya Devi

The problem has been traced back to the anti-inflammatory drug, Diclofenac, which is used as a painkiller for both livestock and people. Because it can get a sick animal up and working quickly, farmers regard Diclofenac as a miracle drug. Unfortunately, this "miracle drug" is lethal to Gyps vultures. When an animal dies shortly after treatment with Diclofenac, the vultures that feed on the carcass will also die. Since vultures feed in large groups, one carcass containing Diclofenac will result in the death of scores of vultures. The dwindling number of vultures in Asia means that carcasses are being left to rot, increasing the risk of spread of disease.

Bob in his element over Pokhara, Nepal

Fortunately, there are some reasons for hope. Meloxicam is a drug that can be used instead of Diclofenac and does not harm vultures (or other birds that it has been tested on). The problem, however, is that Meloxicam is slightly more expensive and is more difficult to administer than Diclofenac. Moreover, Meloxicam doesn't work as quickly or as well as the drug it is replacing. This makes it difficult to convince poor farmers with little education that the long-term benefits of preserving vultures are worthwhile. It’s especially difficult convincing the farmers about the problem because they don’t see any vultures; they often say, "Save the vultures? What vultures?"

Thermal Surfing

Diclofenac has been banned for veterinary use in countries including Nepal, India and Pakistan, and there has been an effort to buy up and remove the remaining stock of the drug. However, it is still legal for human use and thus is available in pharmacies. Since prescriptions are not needed to buy drugs in many countries in Asia, a farmer can still easily acquire Diclofenac to use on his animals.

Kiran helps out with the vultures before school

One of the methods of encouraging farmers not to use Diclofenac has been through the creation of "vulture restaurants." Under this scheme, sick livestock are purchased from farmers, which are then treated humanely (Meloxicam is administered, if needed) and the animals are allowed to live out their days in a field. When they die, they are taken to the vulture restaurant where they provide a safe meal for the vultures.

Kevin and Anita - Is she really going out with him?

Although I know something about birds of prey and spend quite a bit of my time photographing them, I was unaware that vultures were critically endangered in Asia. I learned about the situation from Scott Mason, who, in addition to being the inventor of parahawking (the hybrid sport combining paragliding and falconry), also runs Himalayan Raptor Rescue, a conservation scheme initiated by the charity Himalayan Nature. In order to raise awareness of the critical situation faced by vultures, Scott provides lectures to tour groups, and gives them a chance to spend time getting to know his two vultures, Bob and Kevin. Few people get a chance to experience vultures in such an up-close and personal way. Participants consistently comment on how charming, amusing, and almost dog-like the vultures are; they often and leave with a new appreciation for these much maligned animals.

Another tourist falls for Kevin's charms

Donations to Himalayan Raptor Rescue go directly to the rescue and rehabilitation of birds of prey, as well as toward starting a vulture restaurant in Pokhara, Nepal. If you are interested in learning more, making a donation, or perhaps, becoming a vulture restaraunteur, you can find more information on www.parahawking.com.

Hey, this vulture restaurant has a take out window!