The competition has finished after two long days. It was the final lunch, just before goodbyes from the East German light athletic team in Halle. The girl was part of a team visiting from her hometown. The German groups came from many neighbouring towns. The lunch took place in a restaurant close to the competition field. The children sat in a room at several tables. A small cup of soup has been served, the size that fits in her palm. It looked greenish brown, thick and smelled weird. The girl has never tasted anything like this before. It was a trenchant, putrid, foul taste. The children sitting at her table were eating slowly looking at each other. She had another spoonful. She did not dare to say anything. Then someone asked: what is this soup? She doesn’t remember the language they asked, but there was a response somewhere in a bit of a distance: Turtle, turtle soup. The girls’ stomach was heaving, she was gagging, struggling to keep down the urge to vomit. Turtle soup, who eats turtle soup in East Germany!