“Thank you, girl I’ve never met” – The warmth of Taiwanese in Kathmandu

Text & photos /Europe-to-Taiwan Travel Observation Diaryby Huang Yuyang

This happened several years ago. The other day, while sorting through some things, I came across that piece of paper again. I decided to rewrite this article.
Thank you, girl I’ve never met from Taiwan.

My only credit card was also swallowed by an ATM. I stood in front of the machine for a long time, even kicking it a couple of times.

I called my bank in Taiwan to tell them my ATM card had somehow been swallowed by a local machine. I only had a small amount of cash on me, hadn’t even booked a flight back to Taiwan yet, and couldn’t be sure when I’d return. I asked them to send me a new card. But they said I had to come in person to Taiwan to apply for one.

Clutching the last hundred US dollars I had, I felt nervous and anxious. I called a good friend in Taiwan, and after discussing it, he agreed to mail me his ATM card. Meanwhile, I transferred money from my own account to his via online banking. That way, I could withdraw my own funds using his card.

Then I posted an article on a Taiwanese travel forum, briefly explaining my situation. If any Taiwanese were planning to come to Kathmandu, could they bring the card to me? After closing the webpage, I continued thinking of other possible solutions. Unexpectedly, an hour or two later, a Taiwanese girl messaged me saying she was flying to Kathmandu, Nepal, in a few days and could bring the card for me. A few days later, my friend in Taiwan met her at the airport and handed over the ATM card, which she then brought to Kathmandu.

When she arrived in Kathmandu and I got in touch with her again, it was already past one in the morning. By then, I only had a few US dollars left. The buses had stopped running hours earlier. Although I really wanted to thank her in person, I simply couldn’t afford a taxi. So I had to ask her to leave the ATM card at the front desk of the hotel where she was staying, and I’d pick it up by bus the next day.

Before heading out the next morning, I called her hotel first. The receptionist said they had left early in the morning on a tour bus. I asked if there was an envelope with my name on it, but she firmly said no. No matter how many times I confirmed, the answer didn’t change. I paced anxiously back and forth, with only two US dollars left in my pocket. After a whole day of waiting, I was finally able to get in touch with the Taiwanese girl again.

“Did you leave my ATM card at the front desk? Because everyone told me there was no envelope with my name on it.”
“Yes, I did. But I didn’t put it in an envelope. I put it in a white plastic bag,” she said.

I called the hotel where she had stayed again. Later, I found out that because it was a high-end hotel, to prevent others from claiming items by mistake, I had to describe it in detail. I never would have thought she’d put an ATM card in a plastic bag. I couldn’t figure it out on the bus.

When I arrived at the hotel, I rushed to the front desk and told them my name. She took out a large white plastic bag from behind the counter. I thought, there must be some mistake—this was just a thin ATM card. But my name was indeed written on it. When I opened the bag and looked inside, my eyes welled up.

That Taiwanese girl had put a lot of Taiwanese food in the bag and left a note that read, “I know you’ve been traveling for a long time, and you must miss the taste of Taiwan.” I had never met her. She went to the airport early to meet my friend and brought it all the way to Kathmandu. Thank you—for giving such warmth so freely to a complete stranger.