Cemeteries in Germany

Cemeteries are a quiet place to respectfully explore a piece of the world that has passed before our time. Names, dates, weathered marble and old sculptures are all part of the beauty of a cemetery. For me, walking through a cemetery is a cultural experience, because death is the required end stage of life, no matter what country you are in.

One-way street. 

The German word for cemetery is Friedhof, or literally, "peaceful courtyard." There are cemeteries in most towns and cities in Germany, and they have been situated in very lovely locations -- on hills overlooking river valleys, next to old churches, on the outskirts of cities. Most I've seen are filled with old trees and beautiful headstones, and lined by a short, secure fence or rock wall. 

I was curious about death, German cemeteries and how German people are buried and remembered after they die. Some of life's events that seem so grandiose and dramatic back home -- such as having babies, getting married, getting old, and dying -- seem to be no big deal here and are handled with efficiency and grace.

Several months ago, my German friend told me that those that have passed are buried in cemeteries, if it is the family's wish and they can afford to do so. How much does a burial cost? When I mentioned 2,000 euros, there was scoffing. Funerals, coffins, burial plots and headstones are very expensive: more like 8,000 or 9,000. However, like in the USA, there are insurance and/or payment plans for such events.  

Most interesting to me is that in a German cemetery, the dead may be dug up after 25 years' time, if the family (or the previously-living person) has not secured a plot for longer. 

Like me, you might find this unbelievable, especially in light of the tremendous haunting brought about by greedy and careless developers building houses on top of old Indian burial grounds in "Poltergeist" and other such movies and depictions. If you dig up a body, your young daughter may be sucked into the television. Not so in Germany.

Whether irreverent to the dead or not, disposing of someone's body after such a short period of time seems a trifle callous. Is there a lack of space for cemeteries and dead bodies in Germany? Won't the bodies disintegrate with time, making more room eventually? Perhaps this body disposal is just another facet of German efficiency. I'm probably wrong in thinking that Germany is the only country to do this with unused bodies. 

What about "Rest in Peace"? Is the final resting place not sacred in Germany? I suppose not.

And get this: there is little likelihood of a problem with haunting by the wounded spirits of unearthed bodies and displaced souls in Germany, because all the Germans I know don't believe in ghosts. That solves that problem. 

Another difference I noticed between our cemeteries and German cemeteries is that, like most outdoor things -- parks, yards, playgrounds here -- the graves are also very well-landscaped and maintained. Live plants and flowers adorn most of the graves, and they are well cared-for, planted neatly in rows or sections. Watering cans are secured nearby with padlocks to ensure they are there for the family members to douse the graves. 

Friedhof with watering cans locked up safely

In America, the local government or cemetery manager is responsible for mowing the grass around headstones. In dry areas, a sprinkler system will keep things green. You will see live and plastic flowers, plants, flags, teddy bears, and other mementos placed on grave sites, but landscaped graves with good soil and orderly planting of perennials? No.

German cemeteries are systematic, and headstones are placed in a straight line. Plots are stepped, and there is no clutter. There are also no fanciful phrases or epitaphs adorning headstones -- just names, dates of birth and death, and perhaps mention of a person's occupation in life or a soldier's rank and dates of service. 

There are so many beautiful places in Germany, including the town I currently live in. I had originally intended on dying here and being buried with the sound of the Bach that chatters outside my door sounding forever in my deaf, lifeless ears. 

I don't really care what happens to my body after 25 years or even three days, however, I want the option of having a "messy" grave with wildflowers and stones strewn across -- something a bit like the life I led. Lord knows I don't expect someone in my family or one of my German friends to secure a lock and chain for the watering can that will keep the manicured plants on my grave moist. Why go to all that trouble for me? I don't deserve it. 

Finally, it is obvious that if I want to come back and haunt from the afterlife, I'm going to have to find a new country in which to do so.