WE LOVE GUESTS – UNTIL THEY OVERSTAY

 

In many cultures, especially in South Asia, hospitality is more than a social custom—it is a moral imperative, often seen as a reflection of one's character and upbringing. In Nepal, the expression "Atithi Devo Bhava" (the guest is god) has long shaped how hosts receive and treat visitors. Offering food, shelter, warmth, and attention to guests is considered a cultural virtue, woven deeply into the social and familial fabric. This hospitality is rarely calculated; it is spontaneous, generous, and often sacrificial. Yet, beneath this revered tradition lies a complex emotional and social negotiation. While Nepalis take pride in welcoming guests, the question of when hospitality becomes a burden is one that often goes unspoken. The tension captured in the phrase “we love guests – until they overstay” reveals not only the limits of generosity but also the unarticulated costs—emotional, economic, and spatial—of prolonged hosting.

Hospitality in Nepal is relational, not transactional. Unlike in many Western contexts where visits are scheduled, time-bound, and often revolve around individual convenience, Nepali households are expected to absorb guests into their rhythm, no matter how sudden or extended the stay. Guests are seldom asked how long they intend to remain, nor are they pressured to leave. Doing so would appear rude, ungrateful, or even dishonorable. This deeply ingrained etiquette, however, can create a silent discomfort when visits stretch beyond their reasonable bounds. Hosts may experience fatigue from prolonged cooking, compromised privacy, economic strain, or emotional stress, but these tensions are usually masked behind continued smiles and polite gestures. The inability to say “enough” without offending cultural sensibilities becomes a psychological burden.

The issue is further complicated by social hierarchy and obligation. In many Nepali families, younger members or women may be tasked with the invisible labor of hospitality—cleaning, preparing meals, attending to guests—while lacking the authority to voice their exhaustion. In extended families or joint households, guests may even displace existing routines, affecting children's study spaces, elders’ rest, or couples’ privacy. Still, the host is expected to remain endlessly accommodating. These unspoken sacrifices are rarely acknowledged because the narrative of hospitality demands emotional suppression in favor of social performance.

Economically, prolonged hospitality can be taxing, particularly for middle- and lower-income families. The cost of feeding guests, providing them comfortable space, or altering daily routines can accumulate quickly. Yet, many hosts hesitate to express hardship, fearing judgment or shame. This is especially common in rural areas, where community expectations are strong and any deviation from traditional hospitality can be interpreted as arrogance or modern selfishness. The fear of social gossip or reputational damage leads families to stretch their capacities, sometimes to unhealthy limits.

Moreover, the dynamics of modern life have made such hospitality more difficult to sustain. As families become nuclear, urban housing becomes cramped, and work-life demands increase, the space—both physical and emotional—for extended guest stays becomes narrower. Unlike the traditional homesteads of the past, many urban households today are confined to small apartments with limited rooms and schedules tied to jobs, schools, and digital routines. Yet, the old expectations around hospitality linger, creating a cultural mismatch. This dissonance leads to internal conflict: hosts feel guilty for wanting their space back, while guests may misread polite tolerance as genuine comfort.

On the other side, guests too are often caught in a cultural dilemma. While many guests may wish not to impose, the lack of open communication around hosting boundaries means they are rarely told if their stay has become inconvenient. This silence, maintained out of politeness or fear of offending, allows the overstaying to continue—until resentment replaces warmth. This breakdown of boundaries, if not addressed, can damage long-term relationships that might have otherwise remained harmonious.

Interestingly, younger generations are beginning to challenge these silent norms. In urban Nepal, especially among youth influenced by global exposure, there is a growing inclination toward setting clearer expectations, such as asking about the duration of a visit or offering alternative accommodation options. While such practices may be viewed by older generations as cold or individualistic, they represent an emerging redefinition of hospitality—one that values honesty and mutual respect over rigid tradition. However, these shifts are gradual and contested, reflecting the broader tension between modern lifestyles and deeply rooted cultural values.

In conclusion, the sentiment “we love guests – until they overstay” reflects the dual nature of hospitality in Nepal: one of genuine warmth and social beauty, but also of unspoken burdens and cultural rigidity. The difficulty lies not in the act of hosting itself, but in the lack of communication and mutual understanding around its limits. As Nepali society continues to evolve, a more balanced approach to hospitality—one that honors tradition while recognizing human boundaries—may offer a healthier way to sustain the joy of welcoming guests without silently dreading their extended presence.