We have had a nail-biting time this week, what with murders in the Kathmandu Valley averaging one a day, strikes, and anxiety over atrocities in Mumbai and Karachi which seem a little too close for comfort.

But the stiff upper lip has been maintained, relaxing only when an elderly woman on holiday from Newbury with a company that caters mainly for the over-50s, arrived at our HQ, the Malla Hotel, having walked for the best part of a mile because public transport workers were onstrike. She was distressed by it all.

“I've got a hip,” she announced to all who would listen, referring to some arthritis condition, adding with venom in her voice: “These Maoists are a load of communists!”

She couldn't understand why some of us fell about laughing.

It was inevitable I would try to persuade some of the children at Samata School, that unique centre of learning for the less well-off and orphans, set up by the charismatic Uttan Sanjel, where I have come to help for a month, to try their hand at producing a school newspaper. Let's be fair, it’s all I know.

But would they be interested? When 100 stepped forward I got my answer.

They produced articles varying from the empowerment of women (still a distant hope in the hearts of many of that sex and a nagging threat to men) to religious festivals, and from the danger tourism poses for the environment to the healing properties of music – all written in English that although not perfect, was a darned sight better than my Nepalese.

Dedicated was hardly the word, and if you’ll pardon a little pride, I reckon we did a good job between us.

Another three classrooms have been built in a week. These local workmen get a move on. The rooms may only be made of bamboo, but they each have distinctive designs. Two new dormitories have been fitted out for some of the 150 children expected from remote areas of the country later this month.

Eight beds with mattresses, quilt-style blankets, pillows and the necessary covers, together with four tables – all made locally – and a carpet for the rough wooden floor, cost £298. It is a king’s ransom as far as the school that charges the equivalent of 90p a month only to those who can afford it is concerned, but thankfully not beyond western pockets.

At the orphanage, where I reported last week, things were not as they should have been.

On one day the three volunteers, Carrie, Lesley and Carmelita, were left in charge of 42 children when the administrator called in sick. This meant the three were solely responsible for their care, something the volunteer scheme does not condone.

As a result of the three voicing their concern, the recruiting organisation is looking at arrangements there. There is nothing like the threat of withdrawing funds from an organisation that believes in having lavish offices to impress the rich and famous while allowing their young charges to live in urine-soaked filth, to concentrate the mind.