“When I was young, and that was a long time ago, I remember my father carry in goods from China. Every time he would leave home I would cry. He would promise me he would return very soon. I was small and I would believe him but sometimes it took him weeks to return. I remember, I would climb up a hill and wait to see my father return. I would do that every chance I got. Most days I would return home sad. But I never gave up. I would climb up that hill no matter what because that was the only place I could watch the porters return home. The day he returned would be the happiest day for me. He would then tell us stories of his adventures and what he had done and what he had brought back. For as long as he stayed home, he would carry me on his back to the fields and take me with the animals. One of the very few memories I have of childhood. But this was when I was young, when everything was innocent and that was a long time ago.” (Siddhi Bahadur Pradhan, Shyamsadhu, Sindhupalchowk)