One of the challenges of being a diplomat is the inevitable moment when you have to leave behind people and places that have become dear to your heart. And that is certainly the case for Korea and me. Looking back on three years as head of press and public diplomacy at the German Embassy, I had the privilege of helping shape Germany's image in a place that — despite being 9,000 kilometers away — feels surprisingly close. It is a country where you constantly run into German-speaking Koreans, where knowledge of classic literature — Hermann Hesse's "Demian, classical music — Bach and Beethoven or German-Korean football connections — from Cha Bum-kun to Jens Castrop — is widespread; where you find German bakeries and bars serving Kölsch beer from my hometown. Not to mention the deep sense of connection created by our shared history of division, the German-Korean migration of the 1960s and 1970s or the story of journalist Jürgen Hinzpeter, who documented the Gwangju Uprising and after whom the Korean Video Journalist Association named its annual award for international journal