To many, Jan Salter was both a marvelous and sensitive artist and the founder of the Kathmandu Animal Treatment Centre (KAT). Her paintings of different ethnic groups and peoples of Nepal, aptly entitled, “Faces of Nepal”, were taken from drawings she did while trekking around the country in the 1970s and ‘80s. For anyone who has been in Fire and Ice, the icon­ic poster for this set of portraits has been hanging on the notice board for as long as I can remember. The Faces of Nepal book was co-authored by the Late Dr Harka Gurung, geographer, anthropologist, conservationist, and visionary. For this collection of work, Jan received the Gorkha Dashin Bahu medal from Late King Biren­dra. Her other poignant collection of works is ‘All our Daughters’. For this, Jan worked closely with Maiti Nepal and returnee and rescued trafficked girls to produce touching portraits. The fact these ‘daughters’ trusted Jan to portray them in a sensi­tive and kind manner says a lot about her ability to connect with people.

 

Jan was the founder of the Kathmandu Animal Treatment Center, which was the outcome of a long held dream to help the dog population in Kathmandu. Jan abhorred the cruel annual cull­ing of street dogs that took place at that time and was the first person to lobby for animal rights in Nepal; something that brought a lot of negative feedback. But she persevered. In 2010 she was recognized for her efforts in animal welfare when she received the "Extraordinary Commitment and Achievement Award" from the Humane Society International. She was later honored with an MBE from Queen Elizabeth for her work on animal welfare in Nepal.

 

To those who knew her, Jan was all of the above and much more. She had a dry sense of humor, referring to Nepal as Alice’s “Wonderland”, and a humility despite the honors. And she was always ready with a plate of scrambled eggs and toast for unexpected guests. To me, she was the first British person I met in Nepal when I replied to her advert for an apartment for rent. I never took that apartment but we became firm friends, particularly during the conflict years.

 

Those who visited her in her small apart­ment and studio in Gairidhara will remember it was not possible to leave without becom­ing covered in hair from her dogs, particu­larly the long-haired blonde one, or without becoming engaged in heated conversations on animal welfare. I knew her at the time when KAT was just an embryo of an idea, and we spent many hours discussing how the culling of street dogs could be brought to an end. I watched her paint many of her ‘All our Daughters’ canvases and also watched sadly when her eye-sight deteriorated so much it made further painting impossible.

 

Living just around the corner from Jan, I could run over during the curfews around the time of the Royal Massacre. As a Gorkha Dashin Bahu medal holder, she told me she had the right to give her last respects to King Birendra. But being that we were all in a state of shock, she did not do this and it was something she told me later she very much regretted. Instead we stood together at Kamal Pokhari and watched the procession snake its way down to Pashupatinath Temple.

 

As it often happens, our lives took us in differ­ent directions around the second decade of the 2000s. But we often bumped into each other at functions and gatherings. Jan, I truly treasure these years when you were just a phone call away, and my place of refuge in hard times. You will be missed. 

 

As per her family’s wishes, the web launch of Faces of Nepal will still go ahead as planned on May 15 at 3 pm in the Nepal Tourism Board. Everyone is welcome