What does it take to turn a single moment of compassion into a lifelong mission? After a career spent supporting children in Vancouver's inner-city classrooms, Patti Shales Lefkos set out on a journey that carried her far beyond anything she'd imagined — into the remote mountain villages of the Nepali Himalaya, where a village asked her to help rebuild a school that was falling down around its students. She didn't promise anything. A year to the day after she stood in that village, the 2015 earthquake flattened it. Host Dr. Laura Scherck Wittcoff talks with Patti about the schools, homes, and scholarships that grew out of that moment, what she learned about listening instead of assuming, and why, at 79 and about to turn 80, she's packing for Kanchenjunga. Guest Patti Shales Lefkos, Founder, Nepal One Day at a Time Society. Following a rewarding career as a teacher, administrator, and advocate for Vancouver inner-city children, Patti studied journalism at Langara College. She's a graduate of the University of Toronto, Toronto Teachers College, Simon Fraser University, and a wilderness leadership program. She is the author of Nepal One Day at a Time: One Woman's Quest to Teach, Trek, and Build a School in the Remote Himalaya and Grounded by Granite, a coming-of-age story of family connection and personal resilience framed by summers on a remote island in the Canadian Shield. A third book, about the 800-kilometre Great Himalaya Trail trek she completed at 77, is currently seeking a publisher. She founded the British Columbia nonprofit Nepal One Day at a Time Society to support education, health care, and home building in Nepal, and lives near Silver Star Mountain in the BC interior. What is Nepal One Day at a Time Society? A small British Columbia nonprofit that funds education, health care, and home building in remote Nepali villages — the kind of places that sit at the end of the road, where children walk two hours each way to reach a classroom and the nearest bookstore is a two-day journey to Kathmandu. The organization works through long-standing relationships with a Nepali trekking company and its affiliated NGO rather than parachuting in. Two partner schools. The first, whose original 55-year-old building had a condemned top floor and rain coming through into the classrooms below, now runs kindergarten through grade ten and serves roughly 350 students. The second, a small primary school in the far northwest reached during the Great Himalaya Trail trek, serves about 150 children in classrooms with dirt floors and bare cement walls. Three homes rebuilt after the earthquake, at roughly $15,000 USD each — a two-room house with an outdoor bathroom and a front porch, built to post-earthquake standards with rebar corners. Student sponsorships. Rosina, sponsored from grade five in the village, is now 23, has graduated in physiotherapy, and lives in Australia. The guide's 12-year-old son is next. School supplies and technology. A first gift of $500 for library books — the school had none — followed by $6,000 for supplies, more books, and three computers for a staff that had none. Low overhead. The partner NGO is staffed by young people from the region who handle administration through the trekking company, keeping admin costs to roughly 3–5%. Funded by Rotary clubs in Vernon, BC, and Kingston, Ontario, profits from Patti's books, photo art cards of Nepal and Tibet, speaking engagements, and individual donors. Key Topics Covered A book in grade ten, and forty years of waiting. Patti grew up an outdoor kid on an island with no electricity, drinking straight from the lake, long before screen time. Then a novel on the grade ten curriculum — Lost Horizon — put the magic of the Himalaya in her head, and she filed it away. A year of high school in Switzerland got her a passport and a taste for adventure, and then she did all the expected things: university, teachers college, a career. It was only after retiring, and after journalism school, that she and her husband picked up passports again and started walking. A coast-to-coast hike across England was the shakedown. Tibet was next, including a three-day circumambulation of sacred Mount Kailash at an altitude she'd never experienced. She was hooked. The decision to go alone. They'd planned to return to Nepal together to visit their guide's and porter's villages and volunteer as teachers. Days before departure, her husband ruptured his Achilles tendon. Friends and family were getting sick. Her reasoning was blunt and worth hearing: you don't know what will happen to you next. With her husband's blessing, and with the same guide and company guaranteed, she went by herself. "Would you help us build a school?" After her volunteer teaching, her guide Raj took her to a village at the end of a road that had never received outside help. The school building was 55 years old, built by the villagers themselves. The top floor was condemned. They were still using the main floor, with rain coming through from above. The villagers asked her directly. Her honest first thought: they think all Westerners are rich — what could I possibly do? She promised nothing and went home to think. A year to the day, while still in Nepal, she'd met a Buddhist monk in Upper Mustang who was building a school for children with no access to education at all, funding it by giving teachings in Singapore five months a year. That conversation about what was possible stayed with her. She came home, mulled it over, looked into what starting a nonprofit would take — and then, a year to the day after she'd stood in that village, the earthquake hit. The area she'd visited was at the epicenter. Every home in the village was gone. Her husband, an outdoor guy who hates computers, built a slideshow. They showed it at Silver Star Mountain and raised $1,000 the first night. Then she joined her local Rotary Club, and everything scaled from there. Coffee, tea, and the discipline of listening. The most transferable lesson in the episode, and it comes from Vancouver, not Nepal. Trying to get parents involved at an inner-city school, Patti's team put out coffee every morning for the grandmothers dropping off the primary kids. They didn't want coffee. They wanted tea. She carries that into every village: don't decide what people need. Ask them. When she stood on that school playground in northwestern Nepal, the question she asked was simply, " Do you have any library books? Would you like some"? Being told about her own privilege, Patti recounts a former staff member giving her what she describes as a long lecture — that as a white, middle-class woman whose parents and grandparents went to university, she was operating from privilege. Her response, decades later and on the record: "that was really good for me to hear." Laura connects it to the reason the relationship works — the villages hold parades for her, which is not how a colonial dynamic looks. How she vets where the money goes: Patti admits she was long reticent about charities and what share actually reaches the work. Her answer has been to build relationships rather than write checks: a good feeling about the head of the trekking company that a first trip confirmed, a principal who traveled two days to Kathmandu to buy books and sent photos back, a guide who translates and vouches, and a partner NGO whose admin is handled by local young people at a few percent of the total. 800 kilometres at 77 In 2023, believing they had one last long trek in them, Patti and her husband designed their own route on the Great Himalaya Trail, which runs the length of Nepal. They walked 800 kilometres over 75 days with a guide, a cook who had cooked as high as Camp Two on Everest, and a donkey man with five or six animals carrying food and camping equipment. In the first 50 days they met perhaps seven or eight other Westerners — which is exactly what they wanted, because it meant being with Nepali people the whole way. She journaled daily and photographed a wipe-off sign each night recording the day number, kilometres walked, total distance, and altitude. Why she doesn't trek with big groups anymore On the Tibet trip, a man on their trek died of altitude sickness — a man who had climbed Kilimanjaro the year before. On her first Nepal trek, feeling sick at 12,000 feet, Raj simply said they'd stay put another day and see. She was fine. In a group of thirty, she notes, you're pressured forward: go ahead when you don't want to, or lose the group. Being able to make your own call is the whole point. How to Get Involved Learn more and see photos of the schools, the children, and families in their new homes — and reach Patti directly through the contact form — at her website PattiShalesLefkos.com Follow the September trek: Patti will post to her Facebook page as reception allows Read the books: Nepal One Day at a Time and Grounded by Granite — profits go back into the projects, an idea Patti took from Conor Grennan's Little Princes Photo art cards of Nepal and Tibet are also available, with proceeds supporting the work If you are a nonprofit or want to donate goods directly to a nonprofit, check out Givelink: www.https://givelink.app/en? Connect with Small & Gutsy Website: SmallandGutsy.org Email: Laura@SmallandGutsy.org Do you know a nonprofit or social enterprise doing incredible work? Send them our way!
