My husband gets a hot meal a day at work. It’s called a Kotikov plate, after this Russian general Kotikov who introduced it. But for me and the kids, every day is a struggle for survival. For my work in the rubble I get meal vouchers. But it’s never enough. Often the shops are empty. But we Berliners don’t give up. We get creative instead and grow vegetables in the Tiergarten-Park. And we just take what’s there: I make flour from acorns and beechnuts. Although last time the kids had diarrhoea because of the acorn flour. My youngest Karl almost didn't make it. He’s really thin. My last resort is a trip to the country. To forage for food. I trade in everything that’s still valuable. There's not much left. For grandma's precious porcelain I only got a bit of bacon, eggs and potatoes. The farmers in Brandenburg really make a mint with us Berliners. But right now, food is worth more than anything