JUST over a year ago, it was finally time for the builders to replace the old
metal water pipes in my bathroom with plastic ones. Cologne’s water is renowned
for its red-brown tint, but mine was especially rusty.
It had taken me seven years to build what I liked to consider was a safe
environment in which to live. My retreat. Whenever the world put the boot in, I
would crawl back to my 24-square-metre hovel and hide under the sheets.
I rarely had visitors: humans equalled dirt, and that meant washing dishes,
disinfecting the toilet, bathroom floor and sinks,…
