For the first time since the war began in Lebanon, this main road is deserted. Lebanese refugees who, until two days ago, poured over the border in thousands stopped crossing after recent Israeli air strikes made it too dangerous.

Pema Sherpa and Gori Karma stand under the hot sun at this southern Syria-Lebanon border crossing. This has been their home for the last twenty days. The dusty, dun-coloured landscape is a far cry from the mountains of Pema's village of Lumcha in Solu Khumbu, and Gori's lush hometown Dharan.

Pema and Gori had been working as maids in southern Beirut for a year-and-a-half when the war with Israel broke out. "The bombs were close to the house, near the airport . Our madam left with her family, telling us to stay and look after the house. We didn't want to die so we left as well," explains Gori. Despite being owed four months' salary each, the decision to leave was still easy, as the two women had been virtually enslaved by their employer.

They left with just their handbags and a small suitcase. By chance, they met some fleeing Sudanese and Ethiopians and shared a taxi to the Syrian border for $100 each. There they were safe from the bombs, but didn't have the papers to enter Syria.

Border officials told them to go back to Lebanon, but they refused and slept outside until they attracted the attention of the Syrian Public Relations Association, an NGO that has placed 2,000 Lebanese families in Syrian homes so far.

Pema and Gori's story is not uncommon. There are an estimated 4,000 Nepalis stranded in Lebanon at the moment, but nobody is sure of exact numbers. Now heading back to the safety of Kathmandu, Pema and Gori are happy to have been so lucky.

The women said they were well looked after by Syrian volunteers. They slept in a mosque and were given adequate free food. The only request they had was for new underwear and clothes. "We can't be fussy about the food we are given," said a pragmatic Pema.

What were they looking forward to most back in Nepal? "I just want to farm," laughs Pema. She is pleased she'll be home in time for her son's fifth birthday.

"The Syrians have been very kind. And we have made many friends, from Palestine, Dubai, and Qatar. We spent our days cleaning our living quarters and playing volleyball."

A little community has sprung up at the border. Several babies have been born here, including twins last week. Free phones are provided by a major Syrian network, and multinationals such as Pepsi and Nestle have been distributing free water, food, nappies and milk powder around the clock since the troubles began.

Pema and Gori were the only Nepali refugees at this southern border crossing. With no Nepali representatives in Syria, the Syrian Public Relations Association did not know how to deal with them. Calls to the Indian embassy proved fruitless. In the end, it was a Nepali occupying a prestigious and appropriate position in the region who came to their rescue.

Maj Gen Bala Nanda Sharma is force commander of the United Nations Disengagement Observer Force (UNDOF), set up in 1974 to maintain an 'area of separation' 80 km wide-the Golan Heights between Syria and Israel. When he heard of the stranded women, he visited them, and began to make inquiries. After calls to Nepali embassy in Cairo, an embassy official was sent to Beirut to help stranded Nepali citizens. General Sharma then found a courier willing to take documents to Beirut through the war-torn countryside and back. The Institute of Migration then took over, arranging for the women to fly home.

As the women walk towards the gates into Syria and freedom, they wonder what awaits them in Nepal. "Can we walk in the shade ? I don't want my skin to turn dark," Gori asks. "You're already dark!" Pema laughs at her friend. The girls may have lost a lot, but have kept their sense of humour and their freedom.