🏪 Späti Stories #8: Meet Mustafa and Anna - Life Behind a Berlin Späti Counter

Spätis are a uniquely Berlin social experience. We went to Kreuzberg to interview two Späti owners—Mustafa and Anna—and felt like we had a backstage pass to the city's zeitgeist.

🎧 Listening to Sky and Sand - Paul Kalkbrenner

We called our project Späti Stories because we wanted a name that immediately resonated with Berliners. Something fun yet authentic, democratic and representative of the city's diverse stories. From the beginning, we knew we wanted to eventually feature the people behind Späti counters – those who witness Berlin life unfold day after day.

All of us go to Späties, some of us even becoming regulars at the same ones, but how much do we really know about the people serving us? These Späti owners, who listen to everything from drunken confessions to life stories, have their own tales to share. This time, we wanted to listen to them.

For this episode, we interviewed Mustafa from a Späti in Kreuzkölln and Anna from a Späti in Bergmannkiez. Special thanks to Paddy from Happiest Boy Alive who connected us to Ben from In Living Color DE, who then introduced us to these super interesting human beings.

☕️ Grab your coffee, mate, matcha, beer, or whatever your taste buds desire, and enjoy this dive into some literal Späti stories.

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Meet Mustafa, the man behind the Späti with the big dog graffiti on its metal roll-up door at Ohlauer Straße 29 in Kreuzkölln. Born and raised in Kreuzberg, he has managed the place for over 20 years—10 of which his dog Bruno was with him—starting when it was an internet café before becoming a Späti.

When scheduling our interview with Mustafa, he insisted we couldn't come on a Friday ("of course, the Späti is full") and that we needed to visit in the evening so we could watch his kickboxing class. "If you want a real picture of my life, you need to see the real me—and going to this gym is a big part of my life." We booked the following Wednesday at 5 pm.

Arriving at the Späti, Mustafa greeted us with a warm smile and suggestions for our interview location. He pointed to a photo of himself with a dog: "That's Bruno, and he was my best friend." He then took us outside and lowered the metal roll-up door, revealing a gigantic graffiti of Bruno.

This is how Mustafa’s Späti looks when it is closed—with Bruno right there.

"I've had my Späti for 20 years in Kreuzberg, on the border to Neukölln—Kreuzkölln, you could call it," he explained. "I used to be known for my big dog, Bruno—the Great Dane. We were a team for over 10 years and experienced a lot together."

The story of Bruno clearly means a lot to Mustafa. "He was my right hand. That says it all," he shared with visible emotion. "I rescued him from a shelter in Oranienburg. Found him on eBay when he was 10 months old."

Mustafa described driving an hour to see Bruno initially, thinking "he's huge!" but returning home without him. The next day, the woman called again. Standing only 1.50 meters tall, she was no match for the Great Dane. "Do you want the dog or not? Otherwise, he's going to the shelter," she told him. She'd already tried rehoming Bruno several times, but people always returned him, claiming he was too aggressive.

After careful consideration and testing their chemistry, Mustafa adopted Bruno. "I trained him every day for six months. After training, he was my right hand. He had all the freedom in the world—no collar, we cycled together every day. He ran 10 to 20 kilometers daily. I trusted him with the Späti, and everyone knew me with him."

Mustafa and Bruno, the 1.50 m Great Dane who was his Späti’s assistant.

Mustafa's connection with dogs started early in his life. "I was with the federal police as a dog handler. We trained dogs from the ground up," he explained. "My parents always had animals too. We were an animal-loving family—birds, parrots, guinea pigs. So I always felt a special connection to animals."

Mustafa has lived many lives before becoming a Späti owner: "I did everything: security service, close protection, had my own bouncer company, trained federal police dogs (where he got the experience to train Bruno), coached football—then opened an internet café that became a Späti."

Now he wears even more hats: "As a Späti owner, you're basically a janitor, a psychologist, a handyman. You have to do everything. You can't hire someone for every little thing. You need to know how to patch walls, fix things." He's also dealt with prejudice: "Sometimes you're treated like a criminal or called a racist. I've been called a 'shitty negro' even though I'm not even Black—I'm totally white. You're everything here: police, judge—you have to stand your ground in every situation."

The "psychologist" part intrigued us, so he elaborated. "Europe makes people lonely, plain and simple. Many who moved here alone, without family, are just lonely," Mustafa observed. "When they find someone like me at the Späti, they don't say much at first. But then they start to open up, and suddenly I have to become a therapist. Everyone wants to talk—there just isn't anyone who listens. Sometimes I just say, 'Come again tomorrow.'"

All kinds of stories unfold inside a Späti, according to Mustafa. He shared one particularly memorable encounter:

"One time, a young Turkish guy came in, around 30. He sent a couple faxes, made some copies. Then he bought a Red Bull and went outside. He sat down and started crying. At first, I thought, okay, it happens. But he didn't stop."

Mustafa brought the man water and asked what was wrong. Initially resistant, the man eventually explained he had just deregistered his Späti business and was crying tears of joy. "He was so relieved to be done with it. He said he was done with the stress—the junkies, the thieves, the daily hassle. He had had enough." Mustafa concluded that owning a Späti is definitely not for everyone.

His experience with people helps him read body language, a crucial skill in his line of work. "Sometimes, you have people who come in super aggressive. You have to find a way to calm them down without it turning into a fight—especially if they're on drugs." He referred to a recent incident with a woman who threw a bottle at him: "You have to be gentle, empathetic, but firm. They need to know you're in charge. 'I understand you,' you say, 'but don't mess around here.'"

During our conversation, we couldn't help noticing men's boxers for sale (€3.50). Mustafa explained: "Before COVID, I used to display summer stuff outside—sunglasses, air mattresses, toys for kids, whatever you'd sell in summer. After COVID, it was banned, so I packed everything up. But actually, they still sell."

A bit of what you can find at Mustafa’s Späti apart from drinks.

The underwear, in particular, has been popular. "Tourists buy them, or people from the park. On weekends, people going to the club want to wear fresh stuff. The underwear is €3.50—super quality, great price." We spent some time laughing about it before we came back to the interview.

Mustafa's Späti, formerly an internet café, has many longtime regulars. "Some I've known for 10, 15, 20 years. I basically grew up with them. Some came here as students and now have families. We still talk like old friends." With clear affection, he added, "Some even call me 'big brother.' When they come in, they say, 'What's up, big bro?' Some bring their own kids now. They'll say, 'Come on, say hi to Uncle Mustafa!' That's the kind of bond we have."

His customer base spans the demographic spectrum: "Students, artists, workers, tourists. Old, young, rich, poor. Everyone."

When asked why Spätis are such a phenomenon in Berlin, Mustafa reflected: "Spätis are meeting points. Places where people can shop quickly but also connect. You can't do that at a discount supermarket, where you might wait 20 minutes just to get a drink. It might be cheaper, but not cold. Here, it's cold. And you can chat with people, meet in front of the shop, hang out, talk." He added with a smile, “That's Späti culture."

After our 1h conversation, we grabbed a quick bite and returned to meet Mustafa at his martial arts gym—an OG, vintage-looking place displaying the flags of Germany, Turkey, and South Korea. He seemed extremely happy to show us his sanctuary, even inviting us to join (which we promised to do next time, having no gear with us).

"Sport is essential for me. It's part of how I live," he explained passionately. "When I train, I get all the negative energy out. I come back calm, balanced. If I didn't work out, I'd be in a really bad mood." Despite a sports injury—a broken leg with seven screws and a plate—he trains three times weekly. "If nobody's in the shop, I'll even close up and go train."

This is Yayla Sportschule in Kreuzberg, walking distance from Mustafa’s Späti, where he practices kickboxing three times a week.

Finally, we asked how he would describe a Späti to someone who's never visited one.

"A Späti is a place where you can get everything," Mustafa said thoughtfully. "Not every Späti has everything, but most do. You can get a drink, a phone charger, coffee, milk, pasta, Nutella, honey—whatever. You're hungry? We've got something. Forgot your toothbrush? We've got toothpaste, shampoo, soap. We even have boxer shorts," he concluded with a smile. "I sometimes ask, 'Are you a boxer?' and they say, 'No, I just need shorts.'"

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Meet Anna, who runs the Späti at Mehringdamm 70—the one with "Spätkauf ♥️" in white letters over a black background. The späti is a family-business, and the 44-year-old Berliner took over management four years ago. Between her son and five cats, she still dedicates herself to serving her community.

Anna is the kind of person who makes you feel immediately at home. She greeted us with a big smile, a hug, and an immediate confession: "I am a Pisces, so you know how it is." We confirmed that we knew exactly what she meant, since one of us is also a Pisces. Having visited Anna before to introduce our project, our second visit already felt like coming home.

We set up our tripod in front of the fridge, positioned diagonally so Anna could do the interview from behind the counter. We had to be mindful that we were filming during working hours—all types of people constantly coming and going.

When asked to introduce herself, Anna's response immediately revealed her character: "Anna, 44. I was born in Berlin. I have a twelve-year-old son. What's special about me is that I have five cats. And I'm overjoyed to have them, even if it's hard. Otherwise, there's nothing particularly special about me. Oh—and I kind of own a Späti. It's a family-run business, you could say."

Anna’s five cats.

The Späti has been a family business for about 20 years. "I've been here for about four years. Before that, I didn't work in a Späti at all," she explained. "But I didn't have a hard time because I've worked in retail for 15 years. I never had issues with customers or selling things—none of it was a problem for me."

Like Mustafa's place, Anna's Späti also used to be an internet café. "There was a back room. I don't know it that well because in 2013 my son Yusuf was born, and I was fully occupied with him, so I wasn't in the shop. But before that, it was an internet café. Lots of people would sit here—many still remember it."

Since it's a family business, her son comes over sometimes. "He comes here. I want him to learn because this is real work. You carry things, you restock shelves, you sort goods, you serve customers," she explained with conviction. "Of course, my wish is that my son continues school and chooses his own path. But in addition to that, he should come here and learn how this all works. How to deal with people, how to work the register—it's all part of it, it’s work."

This is how Anna’s Späti looks from outside.

We asked how it feels to be a woman behind a Späti counter, as we don't see many. "I have to tell you—the customers are happy. The ones who come here are always glad to see a woman at the counter," Anna responded enthusiastically. "When they're happy to see a woman working here, I'm overjoyed too. Because women usually don't work in Spätis. It's a bit tough here. But I've always been the type who doesn't like doing easy things."

She described herself as someone who naturally organizes and gets things done. "I'm someone who tidies up, who carries things, who gets things done. That's how I've been since childhood. I also think Spätis should have a woman sometimes, to organize things."

Also born and raised in Kreuzberg, Anna feels particularly emotional about her Späti's location. "This corner here, at Mehringdamm—it's a great spot. I don't know if I could sell or work in a Späti somewhere else. I really don't. I love it here. And I think it's because of the people."

Her eyes lit up as she continued: "We're all heart and soul here. No matter what's going on in your life, when you're in this shop, you put everything else aside and are just filled with positive energy. And the customers feel the same. I've never come in here with a bad mood. Many customers even say, 'You're always so cheerful!' And I say, 'Well, that's how it should be, right?' They're surprised."

Anna's vision extends beyond typical Späti operations. "I talk with a lot of them for a long time. They feel really at home in here. I hope that one day I can turn this into a kind of community center. A Späti plus social space—where I could even offer a bit of therapy." She added, "But people feel good here. With my music—we also play music here. It's multicultural. We have all kinds of people with different stories, and I like listening to those stories. I really take the time for that."

From all the stories she hears daily, Anna shared one particularly touching encounter:

"I can tell you a story about a man. He was an actor in America—I won't say his name, but he looks like a movie star. He's a bit older, around 60 or maybe even older." Anna's voice grew softer as she continued. "He was betrayed by his wife, and his children were taken away from him. He came to Berlin. Sadly, his life changed completely. He's no longer an actor here."

She described how his life had become centered around drinking, his clothes torn, having "let go of his life." But Anna was quick to clarify: "By that, I don't mean that he wants to die—I mean that he finds his happiness in drinking now. But he knows my name. He comes in and cheerfully says, 'Good morning, Anna!' That makes me so happy whenever I see him. He comes here almost every day. And he's still cheerful. He sings sometimes when he leaves."

Anna's emotional nature shines through: "When people are happy, I'm happy too. I'm a very emotional person. As you know—I am a Pisces. When I see things like that, when I hear things like that... there are many other stories. That's just one of many."

At some point, our interview was interrupted because Anna needed to attend to customers. A woman came in with her daughters on one of spring's first hot days—probably 24 degrees celsius. The family wanted ice cream but only could pay by card, but Anna's Späti had an issue with the card machine that day. Without hesitation, Anna said, "Just take two for free, for the girls." Looking at us, she explained, "The children looked so disappointed. I couldn't let them go on with the day like this." This perfectly captured the vibe of her Späti.

For Anna, Spätis are fundamental to Berlin life. "If there were no Spätis, there would be no May 1st, in my opinion. That's really a big part of it. May 1st and the whole Karneval der Kulturen—people are almost always in the Spätis then. They buy their drinks here. People don't go to Edeka or anything like that."

Anna's positivity is infectious, and we had to ask about its source.

"Why am I positive? Because when I wake up in the morning, the first thing I feel is gratitude that I woke up healthy, that my loved ones are healthy. I'm very grateful. Every day I wake up healthy and I see my loved ones—that makes me happy, truly."

She put daily challenges into perspective: "Everything else, whether I'm on my feet for ten hours, whether I carry heavy things, whether I'm running around for people—that's nothing. That doesn't matter to me. That makes me happy. Because if you're sick, then nothing else matters."

This philosophy extends to her customer interactions. "A lot of people come in here and they leave with a smile. I always say to them, 'Smile. It looks good on you.' I say, 'Look, the sun is shining. Be thankful.' And then they look at me kind of strangely. But then they start talking. And the next day, they come back happy."

Many customers have nicknamed Anna "Sunshine" because of her constant positivity and smile. Even on difficult days, she maintains boundaries to protect this energy: "Of course, sometimes it's hard. Of course I have days when I'm not feeling so good. But why should I bring that in here? On those days, I'd rather stay home. Why should I take it out on other people?". “Sunshine” is probably Anna in a nutshell.

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We had so much fun with this episode—we felt like we were getting a backstage look into Berlin's zeitgeist. We confirmed so much of what we suspected about Berlin: that Spätis are social places where people connect with each other, where they talk when feeling lonely. This was reinforced when we discovered that many Spätis used to be internet cafés, which were also social spaces used for connection (both human and digital ones).

People behind Spätis serve as unofficial therapists, community anchors, and daily sources of human connection in a city that can sometimes feel isolating.

Until our next issue, maybe say an extra "thank you" to your local Späti owner. Behind that counter is a person who might just be the keeper of your neighborhood's heart. By the way—we hope to see you in two days at our first Späti Meetup this summer in Wedding.

🍻 Cheers from spring in Berlin,
Isabelle and Lua