Behind the red hammock you see the door to “B5”, my tiny staff quarters on the Maldivian island of Kuredu. They consisted of a room just big enough for a queen size bed and a wardrobe, and a tiny bathroom with a view of the equatorial sky. I loved this little home. Especially sitting on the comfy chairs in front of my door, sipping an early morning coffee, listening to birds and geckos chattering away, while the coffee machines of my neighbors roared loudly behind paper-thin walls.
I am now 44 years old (well almost) and the entirety of my worldly possessions still fits into two suitcases. One of these days I’ll settle down somewhere. At least as far as to have a “harbor” to return to after going out into the world once more. For now though, I am happy to be able to be unhampered by possessions. I feel immensely lucky and treasure my freedom.

The last 10 years of nomadic life have brought me to three places starting with “Ma”: the Maldives, Macau, and now Malta.
These names have sort of blurred together in my mind. You will find me sitting in a Maltese restaurant, asking the waitress, “So, what are your Maldivian specialties today?” Or I’ll take a cab and say, “Ah, Macauan traffic is really bad today, isn’t it?”
Nevertheless, I do realize where I am: in Malta, my third “Ma”. And, as we say in Germany, all good things come in threes.

In the fall of 1995 I was still two years away from my gender alignment surgeries. I hid my boobs as well as I could. I practiced looking grim and – I thought – manly. I wore my hiking boots wherever I went. Looking back, I am surprised I didn’t wear them to bed as well.
So much has changed since then. I am amazed by how complete I feel now, how utterly free from having to fulfill the stereotypes of any gender. I am happy being the unique little man that I am.