Dear Esteemed Colleagues, Friends,
As I know only too well how hectic the last few weeks and days before leaving a country and an embassy can be, I prefer sending this farewell note now.
As I prepare to vacate my diplomatic nest of the past 35 years, a place I’ve called home across continents, climates, and countless crises, I pen this farewell with a heart both heavy and light—like a well-made diplomatic soufflé.
From the intriguing jungles of the not-so-democratic Congo, where democracy was as scarce as a unicorn but just as fascinating to chase.
I journeyed onward to the frost-kissed realms of Russia, a land of stoic faces, warm vodka, and a modern-day, democratically challenged tsar with an affinity for ‘special military operations’.
Onwards to the noisy streets of Islamabad and Kabul, where honking cars, the call to prayers from the muezzins and your friendly neighborhood Taliban fighters casting drooling glances at my wife, provided the perpetual background score of my tenure.
In the Philippines, I dodged between the twin joys of paradisiacal dives and escaping the siren calls of the enchanting local beauties.
Hungary offered me the melodious flows of the blue Danube, and my time at the Belgian consulate in Budapest taught me that mastering Hungarian is harder than convincing Orban to share his goulash recipe.
Lebanon, with its beauty often punctuated by unexpected bangs, taught me the true meaning of ‘living in the moment’ and without electricity.
And finally, the UK—ah, my dear UK—where Brexit negotiations moved slower than a queue for the bus, COVID challenged our stiff upper lips, and the royalty kept us guessing about their next episode.
Each country adding a unique stamp to my diplomatic passport and an equally indelible mark on my memory.
Under the gaze of thirteen ambassadors—each with their own emotional intelligence, quirks, coffee preferences and management styles—I’ve navigated the choppy waters of serving as a consular officer. With hundreds of fabulous locally hired colleagues, whose resilience and camaraderie turned every embassy into a home away from home, how could one not feel a twinge of sadness at departure?
Yet, as I pack up my collection of world electrical plugs and consular gaffes, I find myself pondering—will I miss it all? Or is the sweet scent of retirement (or the lack of the terrible office coffee) clouding my judgment?
I’ve had the unique privilege of witnessing the world through a kaleidoscope of cultures, traditions, and diplomatic intricacies. Through it all, you, my esteemed colleagues, have been my constant companions, navigating the turbulent waters of consular service with grace, humor, and unparalleled expertise. I’ll carry the memories of our time together with me wherever I go. From the heartfelt laughter to the poignant moments of reflection and crisis, each interaction has left an indelible mark on my soul.
So here’s to us, the unsung consular heroes of diplomacy, the masters of adaptation, and the guardians of our Belgians abroad and as I bid you all this humorous adieu, remember that while the Diplodocus consulosaurus may be leaving the embassy, the memories—like the best (or worst) diplomatic cables—will certainly be classified but never forgotten.
Keep the flag flying high, the spirits even higher, and treat each other and my successors with kindness and respect …
As I stomp off to new adventures, possibly in less noisy, less explosive, and less controversial lands (or maybe just to a quiet corner of a museum), do stay connected, perhaps find me causing a mild commotion in the fossil record!
With all the prehistoric affection one can muster,
Diplodocus consulosaurus,
Formerly your consular dinosaur extraordinaire
Signing off (but never really gone),
