bearpit Berlin

Picture this. A sunny late summer afternoon in September. A mellow slope in a public park, hundreds of people, sitting on the grass in a big round grouping, sort of a spontaneous amphitheater setting. Children jumping around, animated conversations here, faces turned delightfully towards the golden light there. And then a man with a curious bike and a sound system enters the provisional stage - a community of strangers and the sounds they make. That is bear pit karaoke.
I was clearly back in my old life, on my once a year trip to Germany. This year it happened in early fall. The last Sunday in September I strolled into Mauerpark in Berlin, a public venue for the young and not so young hipsters and scenesters of surrounding Prenzlauer Berg and sat on the grass to listen to people singing in public. My friend Maud, always in tune with what's new in town, had spent numerous sunny summer Sundays there and I happily joined that custom - with hundreds and hundreds others, eagerly awaiting the Master of Ceremony, Joe Hatchiban(come on, admit it, you want to say that name out loud and if you have a German background you are halfway through a Karl May novel by then). Like an old-fashioned Berlin street organ piper, a true Zille original, Joe shows up in a custom-made bike, pulls off two gigantic wooden speakers from the bike rack, sets up a microphone, fires up the Mac with karaoke software and off Berliners go, for hours and hours of singing and listening, clapping and dancing, enjoying a good time with a beer or a prosecco, an occasional smoke here and there. Bear pit karaoke is what Joe from Dublin, who from Mo-Fr works as a bike messenger, calls his thing and he turns out to be quite an entertaining MC himself.
It was election day in Germany, but it was warm, something they call Altweibersommer, summer of the old women, the last days of 25 degrees C before fall has you in its grip. But I, coming from California, not worried about the last rays of a warm sun, just truly enjoyed the fact that I could sit outside, in a public park, people were drinking their beers, smoke their cigarettes, converse and hang out without a sponsor or a banner or a profiteer. That is fantastic in Europe, this idea of getting together in public without much restrictions, no entry fee, no organized parking lots, no valets, no caterers, just some self-starters trying to make a quick Euro selling beer or lemonade from their baskets. Truly free, individual expression without commercial guidance. Funny, now that I live where that seems hard to do I very much enjoy it for just the idea and public square mentality. Everyone else took it for granted and left the place trashed with bottles and papers (something that will eventually lead to action by the authorities who even in Germany can't completely ignore 100s of people convening for fun). The fate of all good and popular things (Love Parade anyone?)
How could I explain to my Berliner friends that in the most natural venue in LA for this type of gathering you cannot smoke, cannot have a beer and most likely need a permit from the city to do as humans do. The beach would be a great but virtually impossible territory for this, at least in the towns of Santa Monica and Venice. The reasons for restriction might be understandable, but it feels really lame. Land of the free...it is not always. So I have a big smile on my face and bow my head to the spirit of the old country, in this respect.