Sherpa families angry and fearful eight months on from Everest disaster

Sherpa guide families – in pictures

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 had 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.

This article was amended on 6 January 2015 to remove any unintended implication that Doma Khatri Sherpa had been forced by the company that employed Dorje Khatri Sherpa to work for them.

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