I built my house in Juphal intending to rent it, not run a hotel. Nine years later, it became Hotel Mount Putha. Of roughly thirty-five airport-area households, only two businesses are locally owned; most houses are rented to migrants who operate their own businesses.
I earn only 75 rupees per tent per night from tourists camping on my land. The hotel survives mainly through porters, guides and other Nepali travellers needing food and shelter. Occasionally, tourists buy vegetables or chicken.
Local people lack both tourism knowledge and access to loans large enough to build the services visitors expect.
Banks lend no more than about 100,000 rupees, which is insufficient for serious investment. Jealousy also discourages enterprise: a neighbour’s success often creates resentment instead of inspiring others. Local trading frequently relies on credit, which can become bad debt.
Because Juphal is the end of many journeys, tourists discard rubbish here before leaving. I bury cans and glass in farmland or store them under the toilet roof, but the volume keeps growing.
Our culture has changed little. About a quarter of residents remain self-sufficient in food, although subsidised rice flown in by the government is steadily replacing locally grown rice.
Tourism cannot become a local industry if residents receive the waste but lack the finance and knowledge to build businesses.
Trails and bridges have improved, but the route from Juphal toward Dunai remains confusing. Education is still weak; Juphal has produced only one graduate, and both school resources and parental support are limited.
I am satisfied that my hotel survives, but Dolpa needs financing, education and waste systems before more local families can follow this path.