The war had destroyed much. People hoarded, prices rose to unbearable levels, and traded their belongings for food on the street. It was a poor time. Poor in money, but not poor in solidarity. Everyone was equally badly off. Everyone had to rebuild their homes and their lives. We, too, made makeshift repairs to our old house in West Berlin. We had lived in the Harz Mountains during the war. When we returned, everything looked different. We were suddenly living in a state of upheaval, in a state of reconstruction. And yet I still felt at home. The Berlin acoustics, the Berlin air. That was beautiful. As I grew older, I was able to explore Berlin myself. By S-Bahn, by bike. I cycled back and forth across Berlin almost every day. Sometimes I cycled for almost two hours. Back then, people didn't go on vacation; they didn't have much money. I lived with my parents. Housing costs were between 50 and 100 Deutschmarks. Earning only 170 Deutschmarks a month, that was unthinkable. So I made the most of my time in the Berlin area. But leisure time was rarely a priority. Back then, I worked 48 hours a week. During the week until 7 p.m., on Saturdays until 2 p.m. We only had two weeks of vacation a year. That didn't leave much room for leisure activities. Whenever I did find time, I liked to go dancing or swimming. Both in the East and in the West. That was nice; it gave me a feeling of freedom. Birthdays weren't celebrated in big ways back then either. Anyone who came was welcome. For coffee and cake. They weren't big parties, but the small group was there. That was nice, too. For me, life was positive. I didn't know anything different. And life is as you see it. You can also see it negatively and complain—but why? Everyone lives their life the way they want to live it. I felt comfortable in Berlin; it was my home. I felt at home there. And I could chat with everyone. Whether in a store, on the bus, or on the train, I'm still like that today and talk to everyone. For many people, that's unusual these days. I miss that openness, that warmth. Back then, nobody had much; everyone was somehow equally poor. And yet, people made the best of it. My Berlin was honest, my Berlin was real. And I think it's a shame that that doesn't exist anymore.
