‘Like diamonds in the dust’: Ordinary Nepalis pull together for flood victims

DEVIGHAT/TRISHULI/KATHMANDU – Nirnaya Shreshta once broke musical barriers as a pioneer rap and hip-hop artist in Nepal, but in September, he did something he found much harder.He drove a heavy shovel into the grey expanse of wet silt that filled an old-age home in Devighat village – one of the areas worst hit by the catastrophic flash floods that struck Nepal on Aug 26. Clearing silt was another way Nirnaya expressed his love for the people of his country.He had joined volunteers from the capital city of Kathmandu who are going to affected villages to help clear silt or remove fallen debris, so that survivors can move back or salvage belongings.“This is more important than any song I can write,” he told The Straits Times, as locals stopped by to hug or fist-bump the rapper better known as Nirnaya Da’ NSK. Prakriti Mainali, an upcycling entrepreneur from Kathmandu, said she had been unable to sleep after seeing the videos of thriving villages and towns washed away in minutes as the flood ploughed through everything in its way.Rapper Nirnaya Shreshta (in black), flanked by retired policeman CP Gautam (in white) and upcycling entrepreneur Prakriti Mainali. They gathered 80 volunteers from Kathmandu to clear silt from flood-affected towns like Devighat in Nepal. ST PHOTO: ROHINI MOHANThe 38-year-old, who spent her early childhood in the now flood-hit Nuwakot district, had called retired senior police officer CP Gautam, 53, who was with Mission Rebuild Nepal, an emergency disaster response and rehabilitation non-profit established by doctors, engineers and policymakers after the 2015 earthquake. “That one call grew into dozens of calls and here we are now, 80 volunteers from Kathmandu today. Most of us met for the first time today,” said Gautam. Prakriti said: “People are traumatised by the flood. Clearing some areas or buildings that are salvageable might make the villages less scary. Maybe they can use these as temporary shelters till they are resettled.” Wearing fluorescent jackets in the muggy riverside village of Devighat, the volunteers shovelled silt from an old-age home, with sweat pouring down their faces.Dozens answered the call by disaster response non-profit Mission Rebuild Nepal for volunteers to remove silt from salvageable buildings in Devighat. ST PHOTO: DESMOND FOOMeanwhile, 50 government school teachers marched out after clearing debris from some hardware shops and multi-storey buildings in Devighat. They were all from Ghyangphedi Secondary School in the mountainous village of Dupcheshwar just 50km uphill.“We wanted to help out during our weekly (day) off. We will come again,” Sanita Lama said, a muddy spade leaning like a hero’s weapon on her shoulder.Everyone digging in the flood-affected villages was, however, wary of the sombre possibility of discovering victims buried deep in the silt. The bodies could be heavily decomposed and infested with maggots. The stench was so strong it made the eyes burn.When Ayushman Kuinkel suddenly encountered one in Dhunge, he reeled. Once he learnt how to handle the bodies carefully and with dignity, he overcame his initial shock. Ayushman is part of a Nepal Scouts youth group that has been organising excavators and helping survivors safely locate valuable belongings in homes that are crumbling like wet biscuits.Nepal Scouts trainer Ayushman Kuinkel helped clear debris from Dhunge for days even though he suffered sleepless nights because of the bodies he saw in the flood. PHOTO: COURTESY OF AYUSHMANIn one photo he shared with ST, Ayushman was holding a rooster he saved from a rooftop. Nobody was too small and nothing too arduous for the Nepalis who decided to step up. ST saw animal welfare organisations like Kathmandu-based Sneha’s Care and All-for-Paws in flood-hit areas rescuing community dogs and goats and feeding them. They were also removing animal carcasses to avoid the spread of disease. In addition, they donated masks, sanitisers and meals to homeless families. Countries around the world, as well as non-profits, international aid agencies and companies have responded with emergency funds, relief supplies, rescue and forensic personnel and technical assistance for flood-hit Nepal. Nvidia, the US-headquartered technology company, donated US$10 million (S$12.7 million) to the Prime Minister’s Disaster Relief Fund, one of Nepal’s biggest corporate donations. What is less known is that the donation was an initiative driven by 50 Nepali employees including Beijing-based Ashok Pandey, vice-president of the Asia-Pacific operations. While global aid is imperative for Nepal, “help from one’s own countryman or woman feels less like charity and more like solidarity”, said Bisnumaya Dongal, a 57-year-old survivor who lost three houses in Trishuli and Betrawati. “Unlike corporations and governments, individual volunteers and local people get nothing but the survivor’s gratitude, sometimes not even that. And yet they come. They are like diamonds in the dust,” she added.Certified mountain-climbing guides became rescuers after the flood, working alongside army and police search operations. Dropped by rope from helicopters, they crawled on all fours in the sinking sludge to search for survivors trapped inside oxygen-starved hydropower tunnels. Accustomed to risking their lives on some of the world’s highest peaks and trained to retrieve people from perilous cliffs and thick forests, even mountain guides were struck by the enormous scale of the flood. The Nepal National Mountain Guide Association also donated 501,000 Nepali rupees (S$4,170) to the government relief fund. Few community volunteers could – or wanted – to explain why they threw themselves into relief and rescue work. To those whom ST met in the field, the need was obvious.“The urge was spontaneous, then we got organised,” said Akina Singh Sunwal, a young indigenous land rights activist who was part of a group of psychologists giving trauma counselling to flood survivors.The coalition that calls itself Mental Health Support Nepal has 90 members, including counsellors, psychologists and student volunteers, most of them from Kathmandu. The group has set up a tent in Gosok Phuntsok Choeling Monastery in Kathmandu that itself opened its doors to serve as a makeshift shelter. It now houses around 600 survivors from Syabrubesi, a village on the Nepal-Tibet border that was among the first to be flattened by the flood.Displaced residents of Syabrubesi who are now staying at the Gosok Phuntsok Choeling Monastery in Kathmandu after their village was destroyed by the flash flood. The monastery is now a holding area for 520 people, including 170 children. ST PHOTO: DESMOND FOODisplaced children playing with posters and toys donated by Nepali locals in an evacuation centre in Devighat after the floods tore through the region on Aug 26. ST PHOTO: DESMOND FOOMost of the families from Syabrubesi have lost more than one relative, and some have lost their entire immediate family. The counsellors brought toys, building blocks and colouring books to conduct play therapy for the 116 children at the monastery or to keep them occupied while the adults received counselling. Adolescents slept all the time with nothing to do, the counsellors said. Young children did not want the door closed in rooms they slept in. Adult survivors had night tremors, insomnia, bouts of anger or a loss of appetite so severe that they survived on electrolyte drinks. “Even adults don’t know how to talk about their trauma or loss. So our counsellors just sit with the community after lunch, take a plate of watermelon and see if they chat,” said Akina. Requests for help came in unexpected forms, like someone asking for medicine for a persistent headache or joint pain. Some women asked for yarn to knit – a meditative activity. They wanted to sweep the rooms. Men wanted to carry relief supplies or be useful in some way. Bhujung Tamang was among the group of young men from Syabrubesi who had arranged for the monastery to serve as a shelter soon after being rescued and brought to Kathmandu. “I thought that my village community should stick together in our collective loss, and everyone who got scattered could find their way here,” said the 33-year-old export trader. His own mother, 58, is untraceable, along with ten more of his relatives.“I am grieving just like everyone here. I cannot sleep or focus for too long on things. But I am working to organise help for the survivors. I am working, not broken, because some locals are supporting us,” Bhujung said. His walkie-talkie crackled with the voices of his friends from Kathmandu who volunteered to ferry food, chairs, mattresses and fans or arrange medical camps and donations for the displaced. Bhujung said that as he was being airlifted in a helicopter, he had looked down to see his village one last time. “There was nothing but grey dust,” he said. “We have to rise back up from dust.”