[Struggling families of guides killed in April face further barriers and hardship despite compensation process finally starting]
By
Charlotte Pert in Kathmandu
Lobuche memorial site for mountaineers who have died while
attempting
Pasang Lhama Sherpa
wakes up her five-year-old son from his corner bed in her dimly lit teahouse in
Dingboche, north-east Nepal. With only a small cooking stove to
warm the room, the pair exhale crisp clouds of condensation as she layers him
in clothes to start the day.
Pasang, whose husband, Then
Dorje Sherpa, was one of 16 guides killed in an avalanche last April on Mount
Everest, is worried about her son’s future.
Without her husband’s income,
the small shop supplying tea for sherpa guides on their way to Everest base
camp does not bring in enough money to educate her son – and she fears he will
end up on the mountains, like his father.
“My husband did not love
climbing,” the 28-year-old says. “He was only a mountaineer to earn money. He
did not have a good education so he could only get climbing jobs to earn money
to support the family.”
Like some other families of the
sherpas killed on Everest while guiding western
tourists in April, Pasang has yet to receive compensation from
authorities.
After the disaster Nepal’s
government initially promised just $400 (£255) to each victim’s family, causing
widespread anger among the community. Sherpas and mountain guides threatened to
cancel all climbing on Everest if Kathmandu did not increase the offer. Summit attempts were suspended for the
season to honour those who had lost their lives.
The
government then offered $5,000 to each family, but has been accused of dragging
its heels over the payments.
In December, the first of the
families received their compensation. “Yesterday seven victims’ family members
took their compensation, and the government has already issued money to
all the 16 victims,” says Yuba Raj Shrestha, an official at the mountaineering
department of the ministry of tourism.
But the Union of Trekking
Travels Rafting Workers Nepal (Unitrav), which is representing
the families, says that in order to claim compensation the next of kin have to
travel to Kathmandu to present the required documentation.
This is difficult for poor
families in the mountainous Khumbu region, with travel being slow and
expensive. Pasang says she has been unable to collect her insurance
compensation this year because it requires a trip to the Nepalese capital, and
that she has not been offered travel assistance. “I cannot collect the money
without going to Kathmandu, but I cannot afford to go to Kathmandu,” she says.
This apparent reluctance to
accommodate victims’ families has added to the community’s anger, because
Everest tours represent a significant revenue for the government, which charges
westerners $25,000 each for a climbing permit. Families fear that after April’s
disaster the cycle of poverty in the region will be intensified.
Mingma Lhamu Sherpa, 70, is the
mother of Mingma Nuru Sherpa, another of those who died in the avalanche. Her
husband also worked on expeditions but died nine years ago – forcing her son,
previously a monk, to become the family’s breadwinner, she says.
“My son worked on the mountains
three times, all on Everest. He started trekking to make money. He had no
education, no occupation, no money, so he started going on expeditions and
trekking. He was the only one making money for the family.”
Mingma Lhamu now lives alone in
her rural house, where she milks her one cow and grows potatoes to live. With
no income, she only eats what she can grow. With old age taking its toll,
Mingma says: “I am very worried. I’m always remembering my son but he does not
come back.”
Her son-in-law, Dorje Sherpa,
who is also an Everest guide, visits from a nearby town to help with daily
chores and work. Like most other guides, he chose not to climb to the summit
this season. “I see dangers but we have no education, no occupation, no other
jobs are available to us,” he says.
The family of another victim,
Dorje Khatri Sherpa, live in Kathmandu. Though this makes collect the
compensation payment easier, the sum will not last forever, they say. The dead
man’s eldest daughter, Doma Khatri Sherpa, has been forced to start work for
the trekking firm that employed her late father.
After
his death she was offered a job as receptionist/accountant for the company, but
this has not solved their financial troubles. “He made the main source of
income, after he died we haven’t known what to do,” she says.
The family’s income now depends
on Doma, who is the eldest of three children. She earns 11,000 rupees (£70) a
month. Despite the long daily commute from the suburbs where her family lives
to the tourist district for work, she is still not able to earn enough to look
after her mother and two siblings.
Although the union representing
the families has welcomed the fact that the compensation process has started,
it says the lump sum payment is not enough beyond the short term.
Unitrav’s biggest demand is not
for better salaries or compensation, but for proper training for mountain
guides to try to avoid similar disasters in the future.
“People who died, they died. But
the people left behind are the real victims,” says Phopu Thakche Sherpa, wife
of Dorje Khatri Sherpa.
|
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Lobuche memorial site for mountaineers who have died while
attempting
to reach the summit of Mount Everest and its surrounding peaks.
Photograph: Charlotte Pert
|
Pasang, whose husband, Then
Dorje Sherpa, was one of 16 guides killed in an avalanche last April on Mount
Everest, is worried about her son’s future.
Without her husband’s income,
the small shop supplying tea for sherpa guides on their way to Everest base
camp does not bring in enough money to educate her son – and she fears he will
end up on the mountains, like his father.
“My husband did not love
climbing,” the 28-year-old says. “He was only a mountaineer to earn money. He
did not have a good education so he could only get climbing jobs to earn money
to support the family.”
Like some other families of the
sherpas killed on Everest while guiding western
tourists in April, Pasang has yet to receive compensation from
authorities.
After the disaster Nepal’s
government initially promised just $400 (£255) to each victim’s family, causing
widespread anger among the community. Sherpas and mountain guides threatened to
cancel all climbing on Everest if Kathmandu did not increase the offer. Summit attempts were suspended for the
season to honour those who had lost their lives.
The
government then offered $5,000 to each family, but has been accused of dragging
its heels over the payments.
In December, the first of the
families received their compensation. “Yesterday seven victims’ family members
took their compensation, and the government has already issued money to
all the 16 victims,” says Yuba Raj Shrestha, an official at the mountaineering
department of the ministry of tourism.
But the Union of Trekking
Travels Rafting Workers Nepal (Unitrav), which is representing
the families, says that in order to claim compensation the next of kin have to
travel to Kathmandu to present the required documentation.
This is difficult for poor
families in the mountainous Khumbu region, with travel being slow and
expensive. Pasang says she has been unable to collect her insurance
compensation this year because it requires a trip to the Nepalese capital, and
that she has not been offered travel assistance. “I cannot collect the money
without going to Kathmandu, but I cannot afford to go to Kathmandu,” she says.
This apparent reluctance to
accommodate victims’ families has added to the community’s anger, because
Everest tours represent a significant revenue for the government, which charges
westerners $25,000 each for a climbing permit. Families fear that after April’s
disaster the cycle of poverty in the region will be intensified.
Mingma Lhamu Sherpa, 70, is the
mother of Mingma Nuru Sherpa, another of those who died in the avalanche. Her
husband also worked on expeditions but died nine years ago – forcing her son,
previously a monk, to become the family’s breadwinner, she says.
“My son worked on the mountains
three times, all on Everest. He started trekking to make money. He had no
education, no occupation, no money, so he started going on expeditions and
trekking. He was the only one making money for the family.”
Mingma Lhamu now lives alone in
her rural house, where she milks her one cow and grows potatoes to live. With
no income, she only eats what she can grow. With old age taking its toll,
Mingma says: “I am very worried. I’m always remembering my son but he does not
come back.”
Her son-in-law, Dorje Sherpa,
who is also an Everest guide, visits from a nearby town to help with daily
chores and work. Like most other guides, he chose not to climb to the summit
this season. “I see dangers but we have no education, no occupation, no other
jobs are available to us,” he says.
The family of another victim,
Dorje Khatri Sherpa, live in Kathmandu. Though this makes collect the
compensation payment easier, the sum will not last forever, they say. The dead
man’s eldest daughter, Doma Khatri Sherpa, has been forced to start work for
the trekking firm that employed her late father.
After
his death she was offered a job as receptionist/accountant for the company, but
this has not solved their financial troubles. “He made the main source of
income, after he died we haven’t known what to do,” she says.
The family’s income now depends
on Doma, who is the eldest of three children. She earns 11,000 rupees (£70) a
month. Despite the long daily commute from the suburbs where her family lives
to the tourist district for work, she is still not able to earn enough to look
after her mother and two siblings.
“After his death I’m still
always thinking about him,” she says. “We are still using money he saved but we
are unsure about the future.”
Although the union representing
the families has welcomed the fact that the compensation process has started,
it says the lump sum payment is not enough beyond the short term.
Unitrav’s biggest demand is not
for better salaries or compensation, but for proper training for mountain
guides to try to avoid similar disasters in the future.
“People who died, they died. But
the people left behind are the real victims,” says Phopu Thakche Sherpa, wife
of Dorje Khatri Sherpa.
