We visited Nepal in early November 2025. The trip began in Kathmandu, moved through Bandipur, and ended in Pokhara — our base for the Mardi Himal trek (see the photo series from the climb here). After several days climbing through rhododendron forests up to 4,500 meters, we returned to the valley.
After a day of rest in Pokhara, we headed to Barang Village for a community homestay (baranghomestay.com). The idea is simple: you live with a local family, take part in their daily routine, and watch village life unfold. It's an experience based on being present, not on comfort — the village has no motorized tools or electricity beyond a few specific spots.
A taxi arranged by the homestay picked us up. Once we arrived, we met the family, Andrew — a South African who had been in the village for a month — and two more travelers from Israel.
Day One
The rooms were simple, Western in style. After settling in, we prepared lunch together in an outdoor kitchen over an open fire. We learned to clean rice the traditional way — winnowing it with a special flat basket so the air carries off the lighter husks and leaves the heavier clean grain behind. It takes a specific skill that is both tiring and deeply repetitive.
After lunch, we took the buffalo to the fields for plowing. The work is physically demanding on two levels: keeping the plow at the right depth in the soil, and directing the animals. Genuinely hard at first, but after a while you start to figure out where you can save energy. The buffalo rest most of the year — they really only work during the plowing days. The rest of the time they are kept for their milk.
In the afternoon, we walked down to a nearby river that had a small dam forming a little pool. The water was cold but extremely clean, and the surrounding atmosphere was quiet. The right kind of place for swimming and talking, as we slowly got to know each other better.
Back at the house and before dinner, we walked over to a neighbor's to see the buffalo being milked. We milked them and boiled the milk, which was excellent. There were several children from the family at the house, one of whom had a burn across her face — and despite her face being altered, she had an extraordinary energy. A remarkable sense of movement and rhythm. She danced constantly, but with such skill that it was magical. I managed to photograph her while she was inside the kitchen.
We went back to our rooms, prepared dinner, ate all together with the family, and went to rest after such a full day.
Day Two
The morning started with 45 minutes of yoga on a rooftop with a view of the Himalayas, led by Andrew. After breakfast, the grandfather of the family — 75 years old — asked if we could go with him to collect fodder for the buffalo. We walked 45 minutes toward another river, quite a bit further out. On the way we stopped and swam with him. The physical work and his way of life have kept him in remarkable shape. A real example of what's possible. A life lesson you can take even when we couldn't communicate in any common language.
After we gathered the plants, we carried the loads back to the village using the traditional Nepali technique — balancing the weight with a strap across the forehead.
We arrived back just as the children were returning from school. After a final lunch, we said goodbye to the new friends we had made and took a taxi to Pokhara — the next day we had a flight to Kathmandu.
The Experience
Barang Village is not a hotel. It is the chance to stay with a family and see techniques used for generations. You cook on a fire, you work in the fields, you spend time with the other villagers.
The experience is honest — it reflects how the village actually functions and provides an income stream that helps the community stay together. Without this kind of sustainable tourism, the pull of the city would likely empty the village, as people moved toward Pokhara.
These two days gave a clear picture of traditional life in rural Nepal. The pace is different, the work is hard and mostly physical, and the sense of community is still alive and strong.
