The taxi driver who brought me to the airport in Sri Lanka mentioned that he plans to move to Romania in 2027 to work as a taxi driver there. He is so looking forward to moving to Europe, while I shared how much I enjoyed being in Asia—something he seemed to find hard to grasp. For an hour and a half, the driver played German, yodeling Alpine folk music.
It was touching to be reminded of the “pink ribbon” (symbolizing breast cancer awareness) in the taxi. I am in daily contact with a friend who has gone through grueling chemotherapy and is now struggling to process what happened. Everything moved so quickly from diagnosis to treatment.
In a way, the taxi ride—with its German, yodeling music—brought my journey full circle. Throughout my trip to Nepal, the rhinoceroses were a recurring theme. Would I get to see them? I spent three days in Chitwan National Park, where I ended up in the same group as Anna, who works at the German Embassy in Kathmandu. Her posting there was coming to an end, and her mother, two siblings, and a friend had come to visit her. Afterward, they were headed to the Annapurna region—a place I had already visited. Anna, her family, and I sat in a small wooden canoe, with only centimeters between the gunwales and the river itself. Crocodiles basked in the sun along the banks—perhaps waiting for us to capsize.
That evening, after dinner, I also spoke with other German diplomats who had been out on a jeep safari. To my great delight, I learned that after Nepal, they were traveling on to China to see the pandas! You surely remember the film about “panda diplomacy.” We talked a bit about the situation in Europe, and they suggested that the conflict between Ukraine and Russia could drag on for many years. The crucial thing, however, is that dialogue continues; otherwise, the war will go on indefinitely. Europe must have a seat at the negotiating table—otherwise, we might end up ‘on’ the table ourselves, likely to be torn to pieces.
My days have flown by, and I am left with so many wonderful memories. What touched me most was the opportunity to accompany Professor Thapa and his wife to Narakot, up in the mountains. It was a genuine encounter with Buddhism. Between the mountains, the Buddhist temples, and all the kindness I experienced, Buddhism now holds a special place in my heart. My friend Anu, a psychiatrist in Colombo, taught me the fundamentals of Buddhism. She explained that the Buddha was born in Lumbini, southern Nepal—a place Sri Lankans consider sacred.
On a personal note, I’m glad I managed to write in my journal every day. Now, I’ll have time for reflection, and I have plenty of lovely memories that I can turn into short, informal essays. I usually like to get settled quickly after a trip, so I’m spending today catching up on laundry.
Before I left, I started reading *The Kathmandu Post*. They publish an air quality index—something I hadn’t imagined was necessary—but I saw a man wearing a mask at work to protect himself from vehicle exhaust. In Sri Lanka, they use an unofficial metric known as the “firefly index.” I used to see fireflies glowing in the evening air in Colombo; the number of fireflies serves as a reflection of the air quality.
Tomorrow I’ll be back to my everyday life, and I’ll wrap things up by sharing this photo from a pharmacy in Kathmandu. I followed my own advice: the best approach is simply not to get bitten by a mosquito. I bought some repellent, which I used in Chitwan and later on in Sri Lanka as well.
