Chapter 12: Chapter 12: Sugar Coupons and the Cultural Center

Werner hurried back to his apartment.

He began knocking on doors, going from one apartment to the next.

First was Mrs. Meyer, his next-door neighbor.

"Mrs. Meyer, I’d like to discuss something with you," Werner said in a low voice. "I have some extra meat tickets I’d like to trade for sugar tickets."

Confusion flashed in Mrs. Meyer’s eyes. "Meat tickets for sugar tickets? Mr. Betelich, are you sure? Meat is much more valuable than sugar."

"I’ve been having stomach problems lately. The doctor told me to eat less meat and more vegetables," Werner lied. "Besides, I like my tea sweet. How about two meat tickets for three sugar tickets?"

For Mrs. Meyer, this ratio was a godsend. With three children at home, she never had enough meat tickets.

"Really? You won’t regret this?"

"No regrets. Let’s trade right now."

Ten minutes later, Werner had six more sugar tickets in his hand, and four fewer meat tickets.

Next was Old Hans, the retired worker on the third floor, then the single female teacher on the second... An hour later, Werner had collected 15 sugar tickets at the cost of 8 meat tickets, 6 gas coupons, and 4 soap coupons.

The question now was: he had the tickets, but where could he find the best channel to cash them in?

Werner considered the various institutions in East Berlin.

The state-run stores certainly needed sugar, but their purchasing prices were fixed. There was no real profit to be made there.

The Black Market would offer a good price, but he had just made a killing on the recent coffee price hike; he was already in the spotlight. ’If I show up there too often, and people see me capitalizing on every trend, it’s bound to make them jealous.’ He understood the saying: a tall tree catches the wind. It was best to lie low and not be too conspicuous.

If he couldn’t find any other way, it wouldn’t be too late to fall back on the Black Market.

Suddenly, he thought of a place: the cultural center.

They often held all sorts of events and hosted foreign visitors. Those people had a high demand for hospitality items like candy and coffee, and they had the money to pay for them.

More importantly, cultural institutions had a certain leeway for "gray procurement" and wouldn’t ask too many questions.

At three in the afternoon, Werner arrived at the cultural center near Alexanderplatz. It was the best place to find high-end clients.

In the hall of the cultural center, a few middle-aged women were rehearsing a chorus: "Our motherland is advancing, toward a bright communist future..."

Werner observed from the side and soon noticed a young woman walking out of an office.

She was about twenty-five or twenty-six, with short blonde hair, and wore a dark blue suit with a party member’s badge pinned to her chest. She had an intellectual and elegant air, but her eyes held a certain... professional watchfulness.

"Sir, can I help you?" the woman asked, approaching Werner.

"Excuse me, do you have English classes here?" Werner asked. This was the pretext he had prepared—studying English was a normal thing to do in East Germany and wouldn’t arouse suspicion.

"Yes, we do. I’m Catherine Weis, a cultural officer." She smiled and extended her hand. "You can call me Comrade Weiss."

"Betelich. Werner Betelich."

As they shook hands, Werner noticed that Catherine’s hand was soft, but her palm had faint calluses—not what you’d expect from someone who worked in an office all day.

"The English class meets on Wednesday afternoons. The fee is 30 Marks," Catherine said. "But if you have difficulties, we can be... flexible."

"Flexible in what way?" Werner probed.

Catherine glanced around and lowered her voice. "We often host foreign friends and need hospitality items. Candy, coffee, cigarettes... We never have enough. If someone could provide these things, we could use them to offset the activity fees."

A jolt went through Werner. ’This woman is clever! What does she mean, ’offset the fees’? To put it bluntly, isn’t this just procurement?’

He pretended not to understand. "Offset? You mean..."

"It means, if you can provide the items we need, we won’t charge you for participating in the activities. We might even be able to give you some... compensation," Catherine said, looking at him meaningfully.

Werner understood instantly.

This wasn’t about offsetting fees at all; it was a clear procurement channel! In that case, he didn’t necessarily have to sign up for any English class.

"I see," Werner nodded. "So, if I were to get my hands on some good candy, how would you... compensate me?"

A flash of interest appeared in Catherine’s eyes. "It depends on the quality. For high-quality candy, our compensation would be very generous."

"I’ll see what I can do. I’ll contact you in a few days."

"Alright, I’ll be waiting for your news."

Walking out of the cultural center, Werner felt a thrill of excitement he hadn’t felt before.

’The plan is perfect! Now I just have to wait for the news that sugar ticket prices are going up.’

That evening, as Werner was about to open his door, he heard footsteps in the hallway. A strange man was walking upstairs, but he stopped when he saw Werner.

"Are you Mr. Betelich?" The man was wearing a gray overcoat and a hat. His voice was polite.

Werner was immediately on guard.

He had never seen this person before, and he knew everyone who lived in the building.

"And you are?" Werner didn’t confirm his identity, his hand already clenching into a fist.

"I’m the new neighbor from downstairs. I heard you’re buying up sugar tickets? I have some I’d like to trade for other ration coupons."

Werner grew even more suspicious.

’Did word of my activities today spread that quickly? Besides, Old Mueller lives downstairs. When did a new neighbor move in?’

"Sorry, I think you have the wrong person," Werner replied calmly. "I don’t know anything about sugar tickets."

"Perhaps I was mistaken," the man said with an awkward smile. "My apologies for disturbing you."

After the man hurried away, Werner waited ten minutes before quietly going downstairs to check. He found a note on Old Mueller’s door: "Visiting friends. Back in three days."

The note looked like it had been posted recently.

Werner returned to his room, his mood a little heavy.

It seemed his activities had already attracted someone’s attention. But this was to be expected. In a society like East Germany, any unusual behavior was scrutinized.

The key was to stay calm and not abandon his plan at the first sign of trouble.

Three days later, just as he’d expected, the government announced a new policy: due to "adjustments in production technology," the sugar ration would be temporarily reduced by 30%.

The value of sugar tickets skyrocketed instantly!

Werner took his 15 sugar tickets, exchanged them for a large bag of assorted candies, and headed straight for the cultural center.

"Comrade Weiss, I brought some candy," Werner said, walking into the office with bags of it.

Catherine opened a package to take a look, and her eyes lit up. "The quality is excellent! Candies like these are hard to come by these days."

Catherine had also heard the news about the rise in sugar prices and was just worrying about how to procure candy.

"Name your price," Werner said, feigning generosity.

"How does 180 Marks sound?"

"Done!"

Werner struggled to contain his excitement.

These candies would have been worth about 150 Marks on the Black Market. The state institution was indeed generous, offering a price significantly higher than the Black Market’s. His cost was only 50 Marks, for a net profit of 130 Marks! That was equivalent to half a month’s salary for a worker!

Werner went home in high spirits and began getting his things ready for his night shift.

Today’s haul had exceeded his expectations. Not only had he made a profit, but he had also established a stable sales channel.

Just as he was changing into his work clothes, there was a knock on the door.