Month: June 2025

Dirgha Raj Upadhyay, Colorado

Hunger is said to be the greatest thing. But hunger for what? That is what matters. Hunger for a meal? Or hunger to create history? If it is the hunger for rice, then life will be spent just trying to manage that. One becomes happy with just a single meal.

The hunger to touch the sky of success pushes a person to great heights. Driven by that desire, they are willing to go to any length, work as hard as it takes, and overcome any barrier to reach their goal.

Lhakpa Sherpa’s story of fifty years of struggle and success speaks exactly this truth.

In the remote village of Syangma in Solukhumbu, Lhakpa was born in 1975. He is the eldest of three children of Karma Gyaljen Sherpa and Chechima Sherpa.

Syangma lies on one side, and Lukla on the other, with the Dudh Koshi river flowing between them. Syangma is a small village with just fifteen households. Though each family has its own courtyard, they share the same roots—raising yaks, cultivating buckwheat, millet, and wheat—their means of survival. About three hours away lies the yak pasture and meadow, and there stood Mahendra Jyoti Secondary School. Lhakpa used to attend school there, making a daily six-hour round trip. During vacations, he would graze yaks in the pastures.

Between Syangma and Namche flowed the Dudh Koshi river—no permanent bridge existed, only a fragile wooden suspension bridge. During the monsoon, the river would swell and often wash it away, cutting off the Namche route. The Sherpas depended entirely on that fragile wooden bridge—their path, their lives, and their dreams all hanging in the balance.

He learned the alphabet in his own village at Mahendra Jyoti Secondary School. In 2050 B.S., he completed his SLC from there, becoming the first student from Syangma village to do so. After that, he went to Kathmandu to pursue higher education.

He enrolled in the I.Com(Intermediate in Commerce) program at Ratna Rajyalaxmi Campus. His elder brother Pemba used to bring tourists from the United States. Following in Pemba’s footsteps, he got involved in trekking—and gradually, his studies fell behind.

During that time, he made American friends—one of whom later sponsored him. With their help, he traveled to the United States on a tourist visa in 1996. Six months later, he returned to Nepal. In 1997, he went back to the U.S. on a student visa—and this time, he didn’t return. He enrolled in college and began working alongside his studies. He worked in Indian, Chinese, Tibetan, and Japanese restaurants—day and night—just to cover his education expenses. What was supposed to be a six-year academic journey took him ten years to complete.

He had always dreamed of becoming a pilot—he wanted to fly planes in Nepal. While studying management, he also began pilot training. But in the midst of it all, he received his Green Card. Some opportunities have the power to change one’s path, dreams, and desires—and for him, the Green Card did just that.

During his studies, he fell into debt. In 2005, after completing his education, he started his own company: Sherpa Landscaping. The business quickly took off, bringing in a steady stream of work. Within just a year, he managed to pay off all his debts. From the income of that very first year, he even bought a house in Kathmandu. Gradually, his financial foundation grew stronger.

There was a good market for flower garden decoration and management. Work was nonstop during the summer, but in winter, his employees often faced unemployment. To keep busy even in the off-season, he came up with a plan. In 2009, he leased land in Golden city and opened a restaurant. The idea was to attract customers for dinner in the evenings. However, the restaurant quickly won over customers, and soon it became crowded. Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays became especially busy, with the restaurant packed with guests. What was supposed to be a side business soon became his main profession.

He wanted to open a restaurant—but not just any restaurant. He asked himself, what would make it truly unique? Determined to celebrate his roots, he set out to create a place that showcased the authentic culture of the Sherpa people. Over the course of four years, he made yearly trips to Nepal to gather traditional and vintage items—old tape recorders, radios, clay pots, prayer wheels, and stoves. Combining all these pieces, he crafted a special atmosphere called Sherpa Village and named it Sherpa House Restaurant and Culture Center—a place where Sherpa heritage comes alive through food and culture.

Golden, Colorado—a town as charming as its name. Clean, well-organized, with a market that climbs gently uphill. At a bend along the slope stands Sherpa House, easy to recognize from a distance. A monastery in America? From the outside, it almost feels like one. On one side is the Sherpa Gift House, on the other, a monastery. In the middle sits the restaurant. It brings back the feeling of the radio era—the old tape recorder is still there. It feels like being in Khumjung. Inside Sherpa House, you’ll find the spirit of Solu, Khumbu, and Syangma.

Sherpa House runs by its own rules. Lunch is served from 11 a.m. to 2:30 p.m., and dinner from 5 p.m. to 9 p.m. That’s the only time it’s open—the rest of the day, it’s closed. Sherpa says staff who work hard deserve time to rest. The restaurant has a seating capacity of 200 and often gets fully packed. On some days, as many as 600 people come through its doors.

At Sherpa House, which closes after lunch, customers start pouring in like ants as soon as it nears 5 p.m. By evening, the place gets so crowded there’s barely room to stand. But no one leaves—they wait their turn to enjoy the taste of Sherpa cuisine.

So, what’s on the menu? What’s cooking in the kitchen? And who’s behind those delicious meals? In the kitchen are brothers Danuru Sherpa and Panuru Sherpa—both of whom have summited Everest 16 times—along with many other Sherpas.
By Lhakpa’s side at every step is his wife, Phurba Diki. Lhakpa handles the management and work outside, while Phurba takes care of the kitchen. She is the head chef. Lhakpa is known for his warm hospitality, and Phurba for her delicious cooking.

Not just the chefs—even the waiters are Everest climbers. It feels as if Everest itself is right here.

The kitchen offers a mix of Chinese, Indian, Thai, Japanese, and many other dishes. Sherpa cuisine is a must, of course. You’ll also find favorites like chow mein, naan, thukpa, momos, and even comforting Indian-style dal. Most of the guests are American, while about five percent are Nepali or Indian. Sherpa House runs smoothly with a team of 28 people.

In 2013, he and his brothers opened Sherpa Brewery in Chitwan. Today, it provides jobs to 150 people. Sherpa Beer is Nepal’s first craft beer. He proudly claims it contains no additives, just pure ingredients, and believes it stands out for both its quality and taste.

The nature of business is profit—but for him, it’s about service. Along with his business, he also runs a non-profit organization. He doesn’t calculate how much of the profit he gives away. His principle is clear: wherever there’s a problem, he’s there to help.

Lhakpa is naturally generous and never worries about how much he spends on social causes—it simply doesn’t matter to him. Whenever there’s a need, he’s there to help. Guided by a deep sense of service, he gives without hesitation. For instance, he contributed 1.5 million rupees to build a community center in Byankar village, Pasang Lhamu Rural Municipality, Khumbu, and donated 1.4 million rupees toward a hostel for children at the Everest Children’s Home in the same village.

He donated 1 million rupees to build the Dhamma Sagar Vipassanā Meditation Center in Lukla. He spent 400,000 rupees to rebuild Phudorje Sherpa’s house in Tante village. For Gyalé Sherpa from Syangma village, he sent 5,000 dollars to help with a kidney transplant. He is also supporting the education of three children from underprivileged families. When the earthquake destroyed Mahendra Jyoti School, where he once studied, he contributed 5 million rupees towards its reconstruction.

He invested 2 million rupees to build a hostel, ensuring students have a safe place to stay. He generously gave 4 million rupees to help build the road linking Lukla and Syangma, the very path he once walked. On top of that, he donated 1 million rupees to construct public restrooms by the riverbank, improving basic facilities for the community. With his support, a health post was also built in Yawa village of Taksindu Rural Municipality, where he contributed 2 million rupees, bringing much-needed healthcare closer to the people.

He has a company called Hike for Help. Since 2011, through this organization, he has been taking 50 American students to Solukhumbu every year. All the money earned from taking them hiking is fully invested back into social work in Solukhumbu.

The village where he was born, the paths he once walked, the friends who stood by him, and the community that gave him his name and identity—he has opened his heart wide to support them all. Just recently, he donated $63,000 to build a community center for the Sherpa community in Colorado. Who gave how much? That’s not something he cares about. He doesn’t chase recognition or enjoy the spotlight. He simply gives, quietly and wholeheartedly.

Under Lhakpa’s leadership, a new initiative has begun to include Syangma village in the World Heritage list. The entire village is being transformed into a religious park, with a water-circulating path built in front of every house—from the hilltop to the foothills. The project’s cost has exceeded 12 million rupees.

A deep love for culture in his heart, skill in his hands, creativity in his mind, and kindness in his soul—he carries a unique hunger for success. That is who he is. He is equally devoted to meditation, Vipassana, and spirituality, setting aside ten days every year for Vipassanā practice.

He seems stubborn, almost like a child. Yet, he’s also a determined seeker, like Bhagirath—once he starts something, he must conquer it. On Sherpa New Year’s Day, he saw a beautiful young woman at the restaurant and instantly fell for her. Without even asking her opinion, he boldly said, “I want to marry you.” That’s the daring side of Lhakpa. The young woman didn’t refuse, and she became his wife, Phurba Diki Sherpa. Together, they have a daughter.

He rarely takes a break. Whenever he gets some free time, he dives into his art. He carves statues—Buddha figures, intricate thangka paintings—and immerses himself in the mantra “Om Mani Padme Hum.” He works with jade, shaping stones into various forms. Right beside the jade, there’s a 3D printer, creating different-sized models. He even makes 3D maps of the Himalayas, carving Khumbu, Syangma, and Namche into them. Whenever he feels the urge to visit his village,  he simply looks at these maps and feels at home—there’s Syangma, right there before his eyes, and that’s enough to soothe his heart.

A prayer wheel spinning with the flow of water, flags fluttering high, mantras painted on the walls, and Buddha’s image visible everywhere — it feels like everyone belongs to Buddha, and Buddha belongs to all of us.

There were many nights when LHakpa went to sleep hungry, sometimes spending the whole day eating just a single potato. But he never gave up, never got tired, never lost hope. The relentless hunger inside him never let him back down. He kept working hard, and that hard work became his unique identity.

He visits the village every year. He never goes empty-handed. Even if he can’t go himself, his gifts reach the village. He says, “Why go empty-handed? No matter how much you earn or save, you can’t take anything with you after death. So why hold on so tightly? Why worry?” When he talks like this, he sounds almost like a wise wanderer. Everyone is out there doing business — but he’s busy sharing love, wealth, and brotherhood. “Has anyone ever felt truly fulfilled by what they’ve earned?” he asks.

To succeed, hunger is essential,” he said, sharing his final mantra. “Those who get stuck on the hunger for just a meal never get very far.

DIRGHA RAJ UPADHYAY- COLORADO

In 1991, Pemba Sherpa flew from Nepal to the United States with only 200 dollars in his pockets. Along with him were two suitcases, a sleeping bag, and a handful of dreams.

Over the next three decades, his rise in business has been nothing short of astonishing, and his contributions to society truly admirable.

It doesn’t matter where a person is born. What truly matters is how meaningful they make their life. Success isn’t measured by how much wealth one accumulates, but by how many lives they transform. This is the important truth. Pemba Sherpa is one of those remarkable individuals.

In the remote village of Syangma, Solukhumbu, where the light of education was a distant dream,and the touch of development had never reached. Life there was simple and harsh, illuminated only by the dim light of oil lamps and accompanied by the quiet flow of mountain streams. Dreams were crushed within the confines of yak sheds. To be born and to die—that seemed to be the only destiny.

Across the Dudh Koshi River from Lukla lies the quiet village of Syangma, where Pemba Sherpa was born. Birthdays weren’t celebrated, and exact dates were rarely remembered. All Pemba knows is that he was born in 1971. He doesn’t know the date or the day. Life in the village was simple and limited. For him, dreams didn’t go far beyond the yak shed and the home. That small world was all he knew.

Pasang Sherpa and Chokpa had five children—four sons and a daughter. Pemba was the second among them. Pasang owned around 20 to 25 yaks, and the family survived on what they grew: potatoes, buckwheat, millet, and wheat.

There was no school in Syangma village. To get an education, one had to walk three hours to a yak pasture where a small school operated. Going to school depended more on the ability to make that journey than on knowing the alphabet—and Pemba could walk. So he began the six-hour round trip every day to attend school. But after completing grade four, he had to give up his studies.

Seeing the tourists who came to climb the Himalayas, he decided to try trekking. He started working as a porter—his first job was carrying a tourist’s load. He earned 60 rupees for carrying a 30-kilo load. It was the most money he had ever seen in his life.

Financial struggles and a lack of awareness about the importance of education marked his early life. In families with many sons, each child was a source of income. As he grew older and understood this, he followed the path of many before him—climbing mountains alongside tourists. He started as a porter, then became a guide, and eventually a mountaineer. For his family, the money he earned mattered more than the pride of summiting Everest. Understanding this, he too left his studies behind and chose the path of the mountains.

For the first time, he traveled to Kathmandu with tourists and then went to Pokhara. Tall buildings, electricity, smooth roads—things he had never seen before. Having never even seen a bicycle in his life, he was amazed by jeeps, cars, and buses. Spending time with tourists, he quickly began to speak broken English and started to understand foreign languages little by little.

While trekking, he became friends with an American tourist. That very friend sponsored him. He was 19 years old when he went to America in 1991. By then, he had already become a skilled guide and had started speaking English well.

The first city he trekked in America was San Francisco. He stayed there for four weeks before moving on to Colorado.

Then began his life of struggle. To survive, he washed cars, worked in a flower nursery, and did retail jobs. He knew no one there—no telephone, no internet, and certainly no network like Nepali communities have today.

He started washing dishes at a restaurant, but soon realized that life couldn’t go on like this forever. Determined to improve his future, he enrolled in English classes and began studying for a General Education Diploma (GED). Even while scrubbing dishes, he would read the notes he had pasted on the wall. At night, he studied alone in his room. He still remembers the nights when he studied until dawn—when the birds began to chirp, only then would he finally go to sleep.

He worked long hours, sometimes surviving on just bread and water. There were days he couldn’t even eat a full meal. He missed home deeply—there was no one to ask how he was doing, no one to understand his hunger or loneliness. He often thought of his mother’s cooking, the warmth of home. In those difficult moments, he’d wonder, “What’s the point of living like this? Maybe I should just go back home.” Emotionally drained and on the verge of giving up, he somehow found the strength to keep going. He gathered himself, steeled his resolve, and pushed forward. With unwavering dedication, he balanced both work and study. Slowly but surely, he completed his schooling.

Driven by a deep desire to continue his education, he enrolled at Metro State University, where he completed his bachelor’s degree. With his growing experience, he collaborated with some of Colorado’s leading trekking and tour companies. Eventually, he took a bold step forward and founded his own company—Sherpa Ascent International.

He began bringing American tourists to Nepal. In the very first year alone, Sherpa brought over two hundred American visitors to the country. And with each passing year, that number continued to grow. Driven by this success and a vision to reach even further, they expanded their operations to Tanzania as well. Before that, Sherpa had established his company in Kathmandu. Within a year, he would travel to Tanzania twice. He also took tourists to Africa, Pakistan, Bhutan, Thailand, and Nepal. European tourists also became connected with his company.

One day, on a Thai Airways flight bound for Kathmandu, 90 percent of the passengers were Pemba Sherpa’s clients. But soon, the Maoist conflict in Nepal began to intensify. American citizens started coming under threat. Pemba says, “Nepal’s tourism was devastated by the Maoist insurgency.” He was forced to shut down his Kathmandu office. Hundreds of employees were left unemployed.

Sixty percent of his business was based in Nepal. Four times a year, without fail, he would bring eager tourists to experience the beauty of his homeland. After landing in Kathmandu, he would personally guide them all the way to Solu. But then, everything changed. The flow of visitors slowed, then stopped—until there were none left at all. He never even imagined that such a situation would come to pass.
After the events of September 11, American tourists quickly declined due to safety concerns. After that, the tourism business was struck so hard that it never recovered.

Sometimes, one failure opens the door to many paths of success. As the tourism business continued to decline, he turned his attention to real estate. During that time, he invested in houses and land in many places. After a while, the value of houses and land skyrocketed. The price of a single house reached up to 10 million. Overnight, he became a millionaire. Today, he owns 12 homes in Boulder, Colorado—one of the most expensive places in the area.

In 2001, he launched Sherpa Adventure and Restaurant in Boulder. Its flavorful dishes soon made it the favorite spot for locals. In the evenings, the restaurant fills with a lively crowd eager to enjoy everything from authentic Sherpa cuisine to diverse international meals.

The restaurant provides jobs for 15 people. Across all the businesses run by Pemba, more than 40 Nepali employees are working.

He faced hardship in life and weathered many ups and downs in business. Yet, no matter how tough the circumstances, he never stopped dreaming. He never stopped working hard. Even the greatest creature to ever walk the Earth—the dinosaur—couldn’t stand tough times and vanished. But he kept standing strong.

He wanted to return and do business in Nepal. His dream was to start an air service with three or four airplanes. To prepare for this, he joined an aviation school and, in 2006, completed a commercial flight course at Journey Aviation School. But when Nepal’s political situation worsened, he became disheartened and gave up on that dream.

In 2008, he bought a four-seat aircraft (Piper Arrow). He pilots the plane himself and has even flown it all the way to Guatemala.

“This heart of mine is truly Nepali.”

No matter where he is, Pemba’s heart still belongs to Syangma. As a child, he would cross the wooden suspension bridge over the Dudh Koshi River, traveling back and forth between Syangma and Lukla. During the rainy season, the river would often sweep the bridge away, cutting off all passage until the waters receded. He lived through that hardship.

With the first $20,000 he earned in America, in 1996, he built a new suspension bridge over the Dudh Koshi—giving back to the place that shaped him.

When he heard that the earthquake had damaged his village, he couldn’t sit still. Carrying relief supplies and cash, he rushed from America to his birthplace. In their time of need, he stood beside them, saying, “This heart of mine is truly Nepali.” After the quake, he brought $70,000 worth of relief supplies to the village and distributed 11 million rupees in cash.

Some families received up to five lakh rupees in cash. He also supported the rebuilding of a school destroyed by the earthquake. Many Nepalis have earned money in America—but few hold such deep love for their country and birthplace. His heart aches when his nation suffers.

His mantra is simple: “May I have enough to eat and enough to share.” With this humble wish, he’s always ready to support those in need. Though far from home, his heart stays deeply connected to his country, full of love and generosity. That’s who he truly is.

His village, Syangma, once lived in darkness, relying on flickering oil lamps and candles. He invested $55,000 to build a hydropower project, bringing light that made the entire village shine.

He is on a mission to introduce the Sherpa community to the world. In his autobiography, titled “Bridging Worlds,” he reveals the deep connection between the Sherpas and the mountains, shedding light on their rich history. Among 2,200 books in America, his book was chosen as an outstanding work, winning both the Eric Hoffer Award and the Colorado Book Award. His upcoming edition is set to be published by the renowned Pegasus Publications in the UK.

The Story of Sherpa Chai Spreading Across America

Pemba often traveled by plane for his business. Onboard, Wall Street Journal was always provided, and he read it from cover to cover. On one trip, he came across the story of the owner of Starbucks—and he was deeply inspired. An idea sparked in his mind. He thought, “In Nepal, it’s a tradition to welcome guests with tea. Some foreigners have become millionaires selling tea—why can’t I do the same?”
He stepped into his restaurant’s kitchen and brewed some tea. Tasting it, he realized how much he loved tea—it was part of his daily life. Every morning started with a cup of tea made by his mother. That day, after experimenting with tea, he made a decision: “I will share the tea I drink with the whole world.”

He studied the tea market carefully. To start a tea business, he needed a license, and to get that, he had to study the subject in depth. So, he sent two Americans to study it. With determination, he named his brand—Sherpa Chai—and brought his dream to life.

He sent his first batch of tea to just two coffee shops. The response was great. Encouraged, he placed Sherpa Chai in more stores and received positive feedback from everywhere. His excitement grew with every cup shared.

In its first year, Sherpa Chai’s sales were modest. But in the second year, it made $67,000 in sales. Last year, Sherpa Tea’s business reached $2.7 million, and this year, it’s expected to surpass $4 million. Next year, Sherpa expects sales to reach $6 million, and with increased production, he believes the business will soon leap even higher. His goal is to grow Sherpa Tea’s annual sales to $50 million within a few years. Today, Sherpa Chai is worth $40 million—a remarkable journey from just a few million dollars.

Currently, Sherpa Chai produces 600 gallons of tea daily. Plans are already underway to triple this capacity to 1,800 gallons soon. What began with just one flavor now offers seven distinct flavors in the market.

Sherpa Chai is now sold in 515 Whole Foods stores across 50 states. It is also available in over 200 of Kroger’s 2,700 stores nationwide. In total, Sherpa Chai can be found in nearly 3,000 stores across the U.S. His goal for the coming year is to expand that reach to 10,000 stores.

A decade ago, Sherpa Chai production began in a simple pot at the Sherpa Restaurant in Boulder. Today, that humble beginning has grown into a full-scale production facility spread across 7,200 square feet in Louisville.

Dilli Koirala is the head of production at Sherpa Chai. He once worked at Pemba Sherpa’s trekking office in Nepal, and after it closed, he moved to the U.S. two decades ago. While working at the Sherpa Restaurant, Koirala left his job to study microbiology specifically for running Sherpa Chai. Today, he leads the production of Sherpa Chai with dedication.

Previously, three Nepalis had run Himalayan Dog Chew, a dog food company in the U.S.—once considered the largest Nepali-run business there. But now, tea has emerged as one of the fastest-growing products in the American market, and Sherpa Chai is making its mark in this booming industry.

Every month, he purchases $30,000 worth of Nepali tea leaves. Every two months, 200 sacks of tea leaves arrive in Louisville from Phidim. Nepali tea is more expensive than most others, but he insists on buying it. “I want it to be in Nepali hands,” he says—choosing quality and loyalty over cost.

His entire company’s net worth places him within the top 1% in America. In the U.S., a net worth of over $50 million ranks within this top 1%.

His progress is truly impressive. His success inspires not just Nepalis but everyone. Nepalis look up to him and dare to dream bigger. His journey teaches us all that where you’re born doesn’t define your destiny—what matters is relentless struggle and tireless hard work to achieve success.

He feels a deep sadness seeing how Nepalis remain caught in the web of community, caste, and class divisions. He believes that as long as people are held captive by these old mindsets, their hearts remain closed—they cannot truly learn, nor can they rise and progress. For him, breaking free from these chains is the first step toward hope and a brighter future.