Why do people frighten the cemeteries so much

Revival of the cemeteries during Corona: where life is raging

What used to be a visit to the circus is now a walk in the cemetery in lockdown. Cheerful open-air infection groups cavort between grave sites.

The jolly living are reclaiming territory: the cemetery Photo: Maurizio Gambarini / picture alliance / dpa

It sounds paradoxical, but the cemeteries are currently experiencing their great revival. One would not have believed the silent divine arrows to do that. For a long time they were rather dreary places. Down below, mouse-dead people lay buried deep in the earth, while upstairs the living howled competitively, and if someone made a joke, cracked the cork or just farted loudly, it was always "Shhh!" The dead… ”as if they could still be frightened or annoyed.

The so-called dead rest is a white mold, redundant shit, pure chicane. But well, death in its funny way has always been something like the natural antagonist of life. From that point of view, the pinched theater was at least almost consistent.

But because of the pandemic, things seem to be changing now. As we approach the already half-abandoned cemetery on Prenzlauer Berg on our walk, life is visibly already raging there. From a distance, in view of the lively, colorful crowd between the grave sites, the first thing I think of course is zombies - as any normal person would do at such a sight.

But in the end it is just happy open-air infection groups that cavort here. The jolly living cannot be restricted in their freedom of movement by the dead, cloudy cups. You have reclaimed the terrain. What used to be a visit to the circus is now a walk in the cemetery in lockdown. People sit on the benches, reading, drinking coffee to go, talking on the phone. Small children on balance bikes and even smaller ones in strollers are moved through the fresh green corpse.

Love of life prevails

The early spring sun is shining, here and there one or the other beer bottle is already flashing cheekily from lively clenched fists. Death is near, but Corona is far. The love of life prevails. Fuck the cemetery, even literally, because right in front of my eyes there is actually a young woman moving from the shelter of a crypt back to her lover. Phew, that was close.

Those responsible who could take offense at the hustle and bustle are hardly in sight. And when a Bethansel does nag sourly, about consideration or piety, he just gets one on his mouth - with the champagne bottle or the children's bike, he can choose. Then the fun brake can lie down with her bony buddies: “This is where old curmudgeon rests; the cooler ones don't rest here until later. ”The children have to play somewhere.

I recently went to the cemetery on Chausseestrasse with an author friend of mine - where all the writers are. And where did she take her smart talk? The celebrities lie in close rows, urn to urn, grave to grave. Lungs, liver, weariness with life. I think this will be my new favorite place. It is a tremendously satisfying feeling to have prevailed against so many colleagues, if not qualitatively, at least existentially. We walk cheerfully through the ranks. "Oh here, he ..." and "Didn't he ..." and "Look" and "You know him?"

We're alive and they're dead - maybe that's exactly what makes people flood the cemeteries with their good humor these days. Of course, the parks and green spaces are also well filled, but the feeling there is by no means the same as dancing, singing and swinging between the graves of the deceased.