IN a lull between trying to produce the school newspaper on a computer that seems older than me and a printer even Caxton rejected, I played Ring-a-ring-a-roses with 73 four-to five-year-olds at the Samata Bamboo School in Kathmandu.

It was a repeat performance; the first was five years earlier.

There the comparison ends. Five years ago the children were in old, far too large hand-me-downs, many that should have been consigned to the rag bag. Today – the family-supported children and orphans alike – wear uniforms. White shirts are worn three times a week while the grey skirts and black trousers must last six days – and it is the monsoon season.

The transformation is amazing. Five years ago the school, which since 2001 has charged its pupils a modest 100 rupees a month – the equivalent of £1 – has proved the dream of its founder, Uttam Sanjel, not only works, but can be a roaring success.

From the one school in 2008 there are now two in Kathmandu, 19 others across the country, the new hospital and clinic and the orphanage under construction – all built or being built in bamboo – Uttam’s dream of one school in each of Nepal’s 75 districts is well on track.

How has it been done? Faith plays its part with help coming from various sources when a boost is required. Parents are encouraged to invest in modest uniforms so the children don’t appear the poor relation they once were among scores of affluent schools whose fees are out of the reach of the poor. It meant sacrifice all round and Uttam persuaded them it would be worth that sacrifice.

Samata children were already making their mark, scoring high in the essential school leavers’ exams. The uniform – hardly an Eton or Rodean collection – has proved a boost. If parents can’t afford it – well, there are ways and means, just as in the early days when that monthly fee was out of reach. Before anyone suggests Samata has emerged from the swamp and doesn’t need volunteers as much as it did, forget it. It is still a learning curve and if Uttam’s dream of education for all in Nepal, free from the fear of poverty and caste distinction is to thrive like the irrepressible bamboo, it will still need people to pop over occasionally.

Anyhow, I just love the place.

TEEJ, a Hindu festival calling for women to fast for 24 hours, yet dress in their finest saris and jewellery, was held on Sunday. It signifies women’s gratitude to God for having a good husband.

Meanwhile the men carried on as usual, even leaving the washing up to their wives once the fast ended.

Am I missing something?

e: cabbagesandkings@oxfordmail.co.uk