By most measures, the UN Human Development Index (HDI) being the most common, Nepal is the second poorest country in South Asia and 138th out of 177 in the world. Nepal has 75 districts and and by some stretch, the poorest of these, again based on HDI figures, is Mugu in the North West of the country. It is an extreme place to live – remote and completely lacking in infrastructure, mountainous, dry, hot in the summer and cold in the winter – the kind of place the makes you wonder why people settled there in the first place. It's early history is hazy, but it is clear that people have lived here for hundreds of years, and this area is generally recognised as the birth place of the Nepali culture and language.
INF has been working in Mugu for the last six years, focusing on Community Health and Development, while also helping the government to grow its health services and supporting economic migrants. During the Maoist conflict, the remoter areas of Mugu were a haven for Maoist fighters and our work was restricted to the area around the district capital, Gamgadhi. Since the official ending of hostilities last year, the area has opened up again and INF is expanding its work into an area called the Soru belt: the poorest part of the poorest district of one of the poorest countries in the world, but what does that actually mean?
Last week we traveled there to meet the staff and experience life there at first hand to be able to explain the situation to donors, and we didn't really know what expect. Some of the statistics of this area are truly shocking: in 2000, the life expectancy for men was 41, while women could only expect to live to 36, and 60% of children died before they were five. The figures have been slightly improved since, but it is still a place here life is hard and often short.
One of the first things to strike you is how difficult it is to get to Mugu. There are no vehicles in Gamgadhi – the roads stop five days walk away. The town is balanced precariously on a ridge, and an airstrip has been carved out of the mountainside above it, that as we flew in, it looked no more than a slightly oversized terrace for growing rice. For us, Gamgadhi was just the start and the next morning we planned to set off for a two day walk to the Soru Belt, with the Programme Manager and several of his staff. Between us we had a few bags and were also planning to carry some teaching materials for the programme and we quickly hit a problem: this was harvest time and everyone who could walk was fully employed frantically bringing in the crops and planting the next crops before winter came. It took half a day and a considerable amount of money to persuade three gentlemen to help us. These pictures show Mugu's airstrip and airport departure lounge.
We walked down the steep hill towards the Karnali river that we would be following for the next two days. The bridge over the river had been destroyed by Maoists and ongoing political in-fighting meant that it had never been repaired. Although extremely frustrating for the local population, it provided someone with a business opportunity and for 10p each we were hauled across, swinging on a crude seat suspended from a metal rope.
At this time of year, Mugu is stunningly beautiful. The sky was cloudless and a deep blue that was matched by the river. The hillsides, covered in grass or pine forests were steep and dramatic. The sun shone every day and the temperature was almost perfect. It reminded me of the south Island of New Zealand or maybe Corsica - the sight and smell of human faeces on the paths leading into and out of each settlement reinforced the impression that we could have been walking along a popular hiking route in France.
Arriving in the first village on our trail gave us a brutal reminder of why life can be so short here. A naked baby was crawling through the accumulated filth on the floor, covered in muck and flies and crying loudly. With all able bodies working flat out in the fields, child care is often delegated to a brother or sister who might only be a couple of years older, and who probably has their own jobs to carry out. In most homes we also saw the dark and dirty cowsheds where many women are still forced to give birth, alone.
The villages are extraordinary – houses made of mud or stone are carved into the steep hillsides and appear to be piled up on top of each other. Rooms are small and dark. Most life seems to take place on the flat roofs that are used for drying and pounding crops, eating, sleeping and rowing with the neighbours. Access to the roof is usually via a wobbly ladder carved out of a tree trunk, or via a narrow gangplank to the roof next door. Fortunately Evie soon got the hang of these...
Mugu is recognised as a food deficit area, meaning that they cannot grow enough food to feed themselves all year round. There also very few jobs in the area, meaning no incomes and no way to get food once their own crops have run out. Migration is therefore an essential survival strategy, and in the winter at least one male from each household will travel to Northern India to do menial work for low wages.
When INF first starts working in a new area, it carries out a listening survey: just encouraging people to talk about their lives, their problems and their aspirations. The aim to make sure that they want INF to begin working there, and also to see if there is a consensus about what needs to be done. In Bhi village, there was consensus: people didn't talk about the need for roads, for education, or for electricity. The hierarchy of needs was at 
its most basic and people wanted to know where can we get drinking water from? Where will our food come from? There are fresh water springs not far from Bhi, but many of them dry up in the summer, forcing the young girls of the village into a backbreaking 4 hour round trip down to the river each day for all their water needs. These pictures show the view above Bhi village, the public meeting taking place, and the register for the meeting - those who couldn't sign their names added a thumbprint.
This situation persuaded INF that it should consider installing a water system for the village that pipes drinking water in from a reliable source around 10 km away. A public meeting was held while we were there to confirm whether the people wanted INF to go ahead with the plans, and if so, whether they would commit to providing the manpower needed prepare the ground and carry materials. There was overwhelming support for the plans, but this was no easy decision – committing labour to the project meant that less men would travel to India to work, meaning less income and more mouths to feed. It will not be an easy year for them.
I experienced a mixture of hope and despair in Mugu. It was incredible to see people so determined to survive and even thrive in such difficult circumstances. It was inspiring to see the dedication of the INF staff – to live amongst these people and encourage them to work together to identify and solve their problems. But it also caused me to question what we were trying to do. The problems these people face are so big and so numerous that from my cosy western perspective with all that I take for granted, it was difficult to see their reasons for continuing to battle on day after day. What I started to see was that what these people did have – family, community, homes, culture – were truly important and worth fighting for, despite the hardship.
Coming to the end of another flat out week, we realise that we've not yet managed to lose our Western habit of burying ourselves in busyness - in comparison to Nepali friends and colleagues we seem to be constantly rushing from one thing to another, without necessarily achieving any more.
We have been spoiled with lots of visitors recently - after Phil's parents and sister in October, two separate groups from churches have been out, and still to come, Ursie (Elle's sister) should be in the air right now...
We are all on good form - there have been a few bugs in the air but nothing serious. Evie is still great. Although she hated it at first, she now loves going on the motor bike, and sometimes puts her helmet on and runs around the house going brmbrmbrm...
