When we arrived here last Thursday, a group of around 30 people were waiting for relief supplies at the bottom of the hill, where the road ends and cars can’t drive any further. They seemed curious and impatient to see what was inside the big truck that had brought us to the village. The kids started whispering to each other, the old women looked on with stern countenances, and the men approached us, ready to help.

Chalise Phant, as with many other villages affected by the Great Quake, had not received any medical support or food assistance from the government, nor from any international aid group when we got there. The only things that they had been given were a few sacks of rice, which had been dropped off by a van that the owner of the nearby stone quarry had sent over.

“We have been waiting every day for someone to show up, but nobody ever came. We don’t have tents and enough food for all the 25 kids that live here,” said Binod Tamang, a young villager.

I asked them to show me where they slept, and they walked with me to the top of the hill. Their makeshift shelter was a hut made of corrugated aluminum plates and wood rafters. Inside, a half-used 30kg bag of rice sat next to a homemade buddhist shrine with burning incense—meaning that someone had recently died. The villagers told me that three people had died in the earthquake: a grandmother, a father of three and a four-year-old girl.

“Sanjita was playing around in the house when the earthquake struck.  The four walls collapsed so fast that she was trapped under the rubble,” said Dhan Bahadur Yonjan, the girl’s father.

Life had changed dramatically for Chalise Phant inhabitants since that Saturday. Many have lost their jobs. Most were employed as workers in the nearby stone quarry, which has now shut down; and they didn’t have any updates on when it would open again. The usual flow of daily activities was abruptly interrupted, and despite the days that had passed, it seemed like their lives had been frozen in time.

I asked the villagers when they were planning to start rebuilding their homes. “There is nobody who is able to carry out this task now,” they said. “We have heard that the government is going to send us some help and funds to get this going. So we are waiting.”

The villagers explained that bits of foreign aid had reached the valley, but that the relief workers always dropped off the supplies at the first hamlet they came across. By the time the villagers were informed about the delivery and managed to reach the right spot, all the goods would be gone.

That is why as soon as the news of our coming to the village spread, they had brought along their strongest boys and children, and hiked down to the bottom of the hill.

“I have lost my husband in the earthquake, and I have three kids to look after. They are 13,15 and 19. Bijan, the oldest one, is now at the temple, taking care of his father’s funeral. I have heard that some rice would arrive today so I left with Maya, my little daughter, and came here,” said Meena Waiba.

Helped by Norbu Sherpa, a climber and founder of the trekking agency Wild Yaks, and his girlfriend, we divided the supplies we had brought among the villagers: 50kg salt, 10 litres of oil, 1,200 kg rice,120 kg lentils, 400 biscuit packs, 600 instant noodles. We had enough for 51 families, so we decided to sort the goods according to the families’ condition. Those who had lost a family member or those who had small children got a whole 30kg sack of rice; the others were asked to share sacks.

Sherpa decided to help out because he knew the people would need all the help they could get. “I was in a jeep with my expedition team on our way to Cho Oyu, when we suddenly saw rocks falling everywhere around us and against the car. People were running and dust started filling the air. We did not understand first that we were in the middle of an earthquake,” said Sherpa. “I feared for my life, but I was incredibly lucky, and survived. We have a responsibility now towards those who weren’t as lucky and are struggling to find a shelter for the night and something to eat. That’s why I decided with some friends to organise and run my own aid activities for forgotten villages, like Chalise Phant.”