Nepalese friend`s in hoilday baazar street, Malaysia city area~ Kotaraya. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A whole new world awaits if you stroll along the back lanes of the Puduraya-Kota Raya area on a Sunday. Music blares from speakers placed at the entrance of shops and the entire place bustles with activity and the sound of strange tongues. It is a favourite haunt of Bangladeshis, Nepalese, Thais and Myanmar nationals. Groceries, music CDs, language books – all kinds of products and services are offered to the migrant worker here on his day off. Here, too, you will find a vast shopping “district” for Nepalese students and workers. A recent check revealed that there are 24 little eateries that cater to them. However, not many of these “restaurants” have signage, so one would have to ask around to find them. We stumbled on one such eatery, which was filled with men. Unlike an earlier place which was dingy and smelt of urine, this one was reasonably clean and pleasant. Eyeing us suspiciously, an exhausted-looking waiter greeted us and took our orders. Since no menu was available, he suggested momos (steamed dumplings akin to dim sum), a popular dish in Nepal. We struck up a conversation. Shresta (not his real name), 25, used to help his parents in their farm but returns were meagre and the future looked bleak. His parents mortgaged their house, took a loan and sent two of their boys to Malaysia for greener pastures. Shresta arrived here four months ago. “The salary is still small and I have to work for at least a year to pay the loans my parents took. Only then can I start saving,” he says. One Nepalese who works in a fast food chain says, “My contract says I have to work six days a week, and after deductions, I get a monthly pay of RM480//1 usd$=3.55myr$. It’s a small amount, so on my day off, I work as a waiter at one of the Nepalese restaurants. This way, I get to interact with other Nepalese, eat food from my country and earn some pocket money.” Tons of migrant workers find themselves in the same predicament. The hot piping momos arrived and it was pretty authentic. More workers started trickling in and passed comments while observing us – we clearly didn’t belong here. We also saw many Gurkha guards chatting happily with fellow Nepalese. L. Harichandra, 38, a security guard at a condominium in the city, says if given a choice, he would rather be working in Nepal. “I don’t like being away from my family but what choice do I have? After I left the RNA, I was a shepherd for two years but money was hard to come by. I saw an advertisement in the papers and, after consulting my family, decided to try my luck,” he divulges. He was offered the security guard job, then hopped on a plane for the first time in August last year, and got terribly airsick. Harichandra had a miserable time adjusting to the turbulence and was elated when the plane landed in Kuala Lumpur. Since he comes from a mountainous region east of Kathmandu, Harichandra had a bit of trouble acclimatising. In fact, he still finds it too hot. Like most Gurkhas, Harichandra works 12-hour shifts and takes one day off every fortnight. Padam Bahadur Yonjanwith security dog Basko. “Every extra bit counts. You probably don’t know how it feels to be poor,” he looks at me accusingly, “but we are used to not having comforts, so working long hours is nothing new.” Harichandra has a five-year-old daughter and wants to give her a good education. Whenever he has free time, he works on improving his language skills by reading the Nepali-Bahasa Malaysia/English book he bought from a store near Puduraya. To save money, he writes letters to his family instead of making phone calls. Among the guards at Desa ParkCity is Padam Bahadur Yonjan who has a colourful past. He was a palace guard in the Royal Nepal Army (RNA) when King Birendra was shot dead, allegedly by his son, Crown Prince Dipendra, in 2001. “I was stationed outside the Royal Palace and didn’t know what was going on until a fellow soldier informed me. I was in total shock as Dipendra used to play football with us and I didn’t think he was capable of murder,” recollects the 38-year-old. After 13 years in RNA, he resigned as lance corporal as his salary was a paltry RM200-RM300 a month. Yonjan did various jobs after that, including that of a bouncer in a casino in Macau. Unfortunately, an employment agent cheated him out of RM5,000. “That was a lot of money for me. Later, I thought of getting a job in Dubai but once again, another agent cheated me. You just don’t know who to trust.” In 2004, Yonjan was one of five Nepalese selected by the British Gurkha Army to fight in the Iraq war. “I was the one inside the tank, with a gun in my hand and head sticking out. There were gunshots all around but we were in a large convoy so no one was attacked,” he smiles. Six months later, Yonjan returned home at the insistence of his parents and wife, who said the job was too dangerous. Working in Malaysia is a stark contrast to his days in Baghdad where he earned RM6,000 month, but Yonjan is not complaining. “I came here because there were other Nepalese from my district who had worked here and said nice things about Malaysia. I decided to give it a try. It’s OK. I want to work until 2010, then I hope to go back to Macau,” he says. Yonjan misses the missus and keeps in touch via phone. He tries not to take off-days, preferring to work seven days a week, but when he does take a holiday, you are bound to find him mingling with friends and catching up on home news in Kota Raya. A migrant worker’s life is hard anywhere, but most persevere as they cling on to a dream of a brighter tomorrow. *attach; picture of Padam Bahadur Yonjanwith security dog Basko.