Sonam Chhiring Gurung, 77, has lived his entire life in the tiny Himalayan village of Dhye as his ancestors before him have for centuries. Fifty years ago, he built his home with his own hands, making the two-storey rammed earth building one of the most grand in the village, located at 3,800 meters above sea level. Now he is counting the days before he, too, will follow two of his sons and leave the village.

Dhye is located amongst the high-altitude deserts of Nepal’s Mustang region. Tucked on the north side of the Himalayan chain, the village is surrounded by bare mountains and centuries-old ruins of ancient forts. The village fields are scratchy with stones and dirt, and haven’t been cultivated for years due to a lack of water. The primary school closed six years ago, when all of the students migrated south with their parents.

The former residents of Dhye are some of Nepal’s very first self-declared climate refugees. The delicate balance that sustained this community for centuries has been upset by a lack of winter snowfall and increased summer floods that has made farming and livestock husbandry all but impossible.

Despite contributing only a nominal amount to global warming, Nepal’s high Himalayas suffer from the most extreme effects of such. A recent report on the region warns that if the world misses global climate change targets to contain warming, two-thirds of existing glaciers will melt and average temperatures could rise by up to eight degrees before the end of this century.

The choices faced by Mr. Gurung and his community may soon become the norm for people across Nepal.

In Dhe, the community has witnessed the fracturing of a delicate system of survival over the past two decades. At first, the community withstood the occasional crop failure by cashing in robust yak and goat herds, using the proceeds to buy food at local markets, which they would carry on their backs over high mountain passes back home.

But in recent years, the lack of reliable rainfall has led to the destruction of pastureland on the high mountainsides around the village, making it impossible to feed a large herd of animals. In addition to this, the lack of viable grassland has increased pressure on the wild blue sheep population in the area - the main prey for wild snow leopards. Lacking options, the snow leopards have begun to prey on local livestock with increasing frequency, exacerbating the economic loss for local herders.

Already, 17 out of the 26 original families in Dhye have permanently abandoned the village. Residents have banded together to create a new settlement called ‘Dhye Khola’- three hours away.
“It’s easy to survive here,” said Kunga Gurung, who migrated to Dhye Khola together with her husband six years ago. “We can fetch water from the stream and the markets where we can purchase food supplies are closer.”

This new village is arguably Nepal’s first climate refugee settlement, and the residents are plagued with questions about their future here, too. The local government still has not recognized the village, and the communities lack any official documentation granting them land ownership for their new homes and fields. Food security remains an issue as the sandy fields are of poor quality and vulnerable to floods. They are only good for apple plantations, which forces the residents to continue to purchase staple crops for their daily consumption. Without proper land ownership, residents fear that once the apple trees begin to bear fruit, they too will be captured by people from neighboring villages.

“I fear people may cast an evil eye on our apple orchard when the saplings begin to bear fruit. When I remember this, I see our future being very dark,” local resident Tshiring Bitik Gurung lamented while sitting beside her stove.

The new village sits at a sacred confluence of the Charang, Dhe and Kali Gandaki Rivers. The proximity to water is an advantage for the apple crops and household use, but it also brings an increased risk of flooding in more frequent major rain events. The increase in rainfall and lack of snow has also led to a change in architecture, as the traditional rammed-earth buildings with flat rooftops are not designed to remain watertight during major rainstorms.

The balance of life has been upset in other surprising ways, too. Many village members have noticed an increase in cancer amongst residents that have moved to Dhe Khola. In the past five years, two healthy young men have both died from a rare form of stomach cancer. They assume this is tied to recent uranium exploration undertaken by the Government of Nepal upstream from the settlement.

As the cold of winter sets in, Sonam Chhiring himself is getting ready to head to lower elevations to escape the biting cold in the nearly-abandoned village of Dhe. It’s uncertain if he will return when the weather warms again in the spring.

“Now, I won’t stay here for long although I still love this village,” he said.