Most tourists of the Everest and Annapurna Region estimate that this country in the Himalayas is booming. But a look at the rest of Nepal tells a different story. There is little milk in the remote parts, most people make a living by agriculture, and a kilogram of broiler chicken is as expensive as in Germany — something is not quite right!

In the hills of western Nepal, in the village Lukumgau, I stand in the dusk on the terrace with my host, a teacher. He was one of the unknown heroes of the decade-long armed conflict between the royal army and the Maoist rebels. As one of the few educated people, he stayed loyal to his village, without becoming an army spy or a rebel.

In 2006, after the ceasefire agreement, we stood together at the same place, looking at the mountains around us. At that time, the teacher would dream of his village getting electricity, some day. One year later, his dream came true.

Thanks to his energetic support, a small hydroelectric power plant was built but one night, it was dark all over the village.

“One of the turbines broke and we had no money left to get it repaired,” he says in his usually calm tone. I ask him why they had not put a reserve fund aside from the paid electricity bills. “Of the 600 households that electricity is supplied to, most villagers have been very adaptive and have learnt how to manipulate the electric meter,” he answers drily.

“Has there been any other progress?”

“About 95 per cent of the 200 houses of Lukumgau now have toilets, but only 5pc use them.”

I asked him how many men of his village had left to look for employment.

“Every year more than a half a million Nepali men are going abroad. In some villages there are no males between 11 years to 65 years. Presently about 500 men, especially those who have saved some money, will build a new house in the fast growing towns in the south. The others on their return to Kathmandu have already spent their hard-earned money in a month’s time and often arrive in the villages empty-handed.”

Beneath the veneer of a booming tourist economy, all is not well in the state of Nepal

The next day, the teacher shows me a field where he had planted 600 apple trees: “If all goes well in three years time, I will sell apples worth $5,000 every year. This is exactly what we are missing in Nepal; long-term thinking. Some villagers have the latest mobile phones, but no one is able to establish any enterprise. Even with electricity, we are still no further than the Middle Ages.”

This, too, the teacher says without anger. Only nine years ago, it would take the villagers two days by foot to reach the next jeep road. Women still have to walk two hours to collect firewood while the local doctor is still a shaman (faith healer). Even though there is now a bus-route leading to Lukumgau, those who have little money or are in a rush to reach Kathmandu must climb a 3,000-metre high mountain pass.

“This is exactly what we are missing in Nepal; long-term thinking. Some villagers have the latest mobile phones, but no one is able to establish any enterprise. Even with electricity, we are still no further than the Middle Ages.”

The next day, I sit near the pass under a wooden bunker, which was used some years ago as a local hotel, when a wayfarer appears. Squatting next to me, he takes out a two-litre plastic bottle filled with raksi — locally made brandy. After opening the bottle, he sacrifices some drops of liquor to the weather saints, and then guzzles some. Later, as we climbed down, the weather became colder and foggy, and he took more gulps till the bottle was empty.

The former local hotels near the passes are only dugouts now / Photos by the writer

In the evening, at a local hotel some 1,500 metres farther down in the village of Uwa, I could see two old foot paths from the district Rolpa to Rukum. A hundred metres above us stands an excavator to build a road that will connect Uwa southward with a jeep road. Half a dozen men sit together enjoying pieces of fried meat and roksi. The average (annual) salary in Nepal is €692. One kilo of local poultry costs €6.

Nepal’s local passes are not a piece of cake / Photos by the writer

Next morning, there is no milk for tea even though statistically, half of the working population is involved in agriculture and Nepal produces 400,000 litres milk every day for domestic consumption. The women with most of their husbands abroad, have plenty to do at home, with the kids, in the fields or at the small shops that many of them run.

In the afternoon, I reach the bazaar town Sulichaur for a bus to the south. Concrete buildings stand next to each other. The alleys and streets are paved with plastic wrappings. Although the town is surrounded by wooden hills, it stinks. Nonetheless, there are only friendly faces around me. The shops offer basic necessities for the nearby villages up to Lukumgau.

Lukumgau / Photos by the writer

The next day, it’s a six-hour bus ride on asphalt road to a town called Balubang, which is 80km away. This road connects the west and the east of the country. In the village, the bus passes people relaxing in front of their houses. From time to time, passengers complain that the bus is late, but the bus driver remains oblivious to these complaints as he is late every day.

The following day, I stroll across Butwal. Now that the once-picturesque Kathmandu Valley has become smog contaminated, the town of Butwal, 25km away from the Indian border, is the new dream destination for many Nepalese. There are rows of houses and relatively spacious roads, with only a few cars and motorbikes to be seen. No industry or huge enterprise can be seen either. The Nepali is a friendly and tolerant fellow, so the atmosphere is completely relaxed. There is daily power load-shedding of up to 12 hours but this hardly bothers people here.

Although every year around 300,000 tourists pass by Butwal, hardly anyone remembers the name of this town. For them, Nepal is Everest and Annapurna. The rest of the country is like an unplanned experiment; how will a country with a population of 30 million survive when 50pc of that population is unemployed?

Since the 2013 election, political parties have been running Nepal. Although the members of both parties — the Nepali Congress and the UML — are mostly from the high and influential Hindu caste and have a two-third majority in the parliament, nine years after the downfall of the king, the country is still without a constitution.

The remittances from Nepalese abroad account for 28pc of the GDP of the country while 30,000 NGOs are the biggest employers of Nepal, and these are mostly financed by foreign donors. The Nepali rupee is linked with the Indian rupee, and for proper education and medical care people have to go to India.

In terms of resources, Nepal could mirror the power of oil-rich Saudi Arabia because it possesses the biggest sweet water deposit in the world, second only to Brazil. The wars of the future will not be fought because of oil but water; instead of Nepalese becoming migrant workers, those from other countries could be working the fields of Nepal.

But for this to materialise, greater planning and a vision is required. With governance and matters of the constitution in limbo, a clear direction in Nepal is not in sight and their income inequality is the second highest in Asia.

Published in Dawn, Sunday Magazine, April 12th, 2015

On a mobile phone? Get the Dawn Mobile App: [Apple Store][4] | [Google Play][5]