Mauerpark in Berlin, Germany

Mauerpark is an action-packed park within the Prenzlauer Berg neighborhood of Berlin. It’s filled with artists, runners, families with children playing, and a flea market every Sunday. During the summer months, large groups of people flock to Mauerpark to partake in a huge scene of open-air karaoke. But no matter the weather, the park is filled with life! Tim and I were there on some of the rainiest of days and the park was still filled with locals.

We learned that this is a vast contrast to what the area used to look like. During the time of the Berlin Wall, Mauerpark was divided by the Berlin Wall, creating West and East Berlin. The area in which artists now display their art in the park was once considered the Death Strip of the Berlin Wall. But it’s what makes Berlin so beautiful, it’s the ability to acknowledge and honor these areas. Berlin has embraced the lessons learned during that time and has made these parts of history a part of their everyday life.

I didn’t entirely know what to expect when we first walked to Mauerpark. It was a brisk morning that started out as gloomy. I guess I expected it to be fairly empty, with people hiding from the cold. But to my surprise, it was filled with artists. The sun had finally come out, so people followed. The wall itself was lined with groups of artists, playing music, shaking their spray cans and mixing their paints. People were casually strolling by, watching the artists create their art. The art varied vastly in style, adding to the allure. There were political pieces being done, murals, abstract pieces, and such detailed portraits that you could see each wrinkle.

There was a strong sense of community in these artists, bringing along spectators, supporters, and art fanatics alike. You could feel the comradery to preserve and respect what the wall meant then and now symbolized. Just across the way of the artists and spectators were random large single swings lined up in a row. If I didn’t see others swinging on them, I would have thought they were an art statement piece. But no, these large swings were there for people to enjoy, adding playfulness into once a dark place. From the swing, you could overlook the park and see part of the city. Each time we visited, I made sure to ride one of the swings.

Further in the park is a large grove of tall standing birch trees. These trees were originally planted by residents of Berlin in 1992, years before Mauerpark was officially a park. They were Intentionally planted due to what they symbolize, new beginnings and hope. Walking through the grove you could almost feel the pull of the trees, sprouting a hopeful promise. I was surprised that we had the grove to ourselves most days. It was a peaceful place, the piece of nature I craved while living in the city.

There was an additional swing hidden among the grove. One that felt secretive, as if it were placed there just for us. It rained each time we swung on this particular swing, but that never stopped us. I remember one specific time in which my butt was covered in mud from the seat of the swing due to the rains. We simply laughed and shrugged as I tried to wipe it away but ultimately walked around with mud on my butt until it dried.

Mauerpark became somewhere we frequented while living in Berlin. I loved being around the eclectic energy from the flea market each Sunday, surrounded by the creativity of the artists, and the drive of the runners as they passed us in the rain. There was street art around every corner. We found new pieces each time we returned. The gloom and rain of a Berlin winter never got in the way of enjoying the park. And when a sliver of sun came out, it seemed as if the entire city hit the parks to soak up an ounce of sunshine and warmth. We found ourselves among the locals, embracing what it meant to live in Berlin, sitting at the park with a beer in our hand.

I can only imagine the park filled with hundreds of people enjoying the summer sun and open-air karaoke. I hope to experience this next time in Berlin. But even if we only ever enjoy Mauerpark in the gloomy months of winter, I’ll still remember it as a park that has given hope. Not only to me when I needed the open space and trees, but to the residents of Berlin.