Unfortunately, the days have become somewhat of a blur. 

I think Monday, after visiting the Resistance Memorial, I had a lot of free time.  Yes, that’s right… I ended up reading in my room and talking to Pablo when he came in.  He had tried to go to all the museums, but so many of them were closed, so I suggested he visit Tacheles, that art place I told you all about. 

When he got back, he seemed very impressed and when I told him they wanted to shut it down, he shook  his head and said “Impossible.” 

Hopefully he’s right.

Later that night, he, Diana and I joined up in the bar to hang out and chat.  Lindsey had gone off to a wine bar with some Americans from Chicago.  We were going to go out dancing, but, big surprise, that fell through.  I wasn’t too upset though, because I happened to be sleepy. 

Thanks to Hope, I laughed myself to sleep, and I know Pablo was laughing, too.  She kept snoring and wheezing. 

Pablo left the next morning, but before he left, he told me to get up because I didn’t know how much longer I would be in Berlin and that I could sleep all I wanted at home. 

So as soon as he left, I hopped out of bed, showered, got breakfast, and trekked alone through the city, shopping for gifts and taking in the sights.  It gave me a lot of time to think about a lot of things, especially about how much I would miss Berlin and the edginess it stirred up inside of me. 

I walked from about 11 am until 6 pm, then I conked out for a few hours.  Afterward…well gosh, I can’t remember what I did afterward.

But today we went on another 6-hour tour with a really great tour guide named David, who showed us around Potsdam.  We saw two palaces (though one looked more like an oversized country house with a Soviet star in the middle) and a nice church and lots of gardens.  Wait till you see the pictures!

Then we got back to the hostel, packed, and went to dinner at the Circus Hotel across the street, where we had a great filmed discussion on what we’ve learned on the trip thus far. 

When we got back, we went to the bar for a little while where they’re having Karaoke Night again, but, once again, the girls decided bed was preferable to a final night of fun in Europe, so here I am, writing to you and waiting to come back again. 

I hope you’ve been able to somewhat enjoy reading about my adventures in Berlin as much as I’ve enjoyed having them.  I’ll be sure to post some pictures as soon as I get home. 

Bis bald!

The new English friends Lindsey had made were gone by the time we got downstairs, so after a stroll around Berlin, we decided to drink some beers in the bar downstairs in the hostel.

As we were drinking, a guy who looked a lot like Silas from the AWESOME television show Weeds looked over at us and said something like “shkol” (though according to this it’s spelled like skal or something in Danish).  I tried saying it a few times, then finally went with “Prost!” and when he realized I spoke German, he seemed to get excited.  Unfortunately, Lindsey doesn’t know any German, so I told him “Cheers” and asked him if he spoke English.

He came over at that point and we all hung out for an hour or so.  He was really friendly–sometimes a little too friendly.  He tried kissing me once, and then on the way to the club he tried to hold my hand.  When I said no, he started to protest, only to crash and fall on top of a table.  Then he asked if he could have a “chin kiss” and I had to help him realize he meant “cheek.”

Also, he forgot my name a lot.  The first time he asked I was Marycruz, the second time I was Jackie (“Jackie?! That’s a real American name!”), the third time I was Marycruz again and by the fourth time when I told him I was Penelope, he gave me a weird look and went “No…that’s not your TRUE NAME!!!” Then later when he asked me my name again, my friend goes “You’ve asked her like five times!” and he goes “Fuck you, baby, I KNOW her first name! I wanted to know her LAST NAME!”

Overall, a pretty interesting guy.

The crappy thing is that we could actually go INTO the club because SOMEBODY ^cough^yours truly^cough^ forgot their ID.

The next morning was freezing, rainy, and miserable, though it seemed very appropriate considering we were going to Sachsenhausen, a concentration camp.  I’ll give more details once the pictures are uploaded.

I will say, though, that I felt like such a jerk while we were there because I could hardly focus on the terrors that took place at Sachsenhausen.  I think it was because it was so cold and rainy.  At some point, I was standing there with wet feet, when the tour guide mentioned a time the men had to stand in formation for 16 hours, in the snow, with a lot less clothing than I had on that rainy day.  It put a lot of things in perspective.

Oh shoot, but before Sachsenhausen, we had a mini taxi crisis.  See, one of the girls on the trip has a hurt ankle, so instead of taking the 20-minute walk to Sachsenhausen in the cold rain, we decided to take a taxi.  Unfortunately, we couldn’t seem to get a clear answer from the taxi drivers we called.  We decided to go inside and ask for help.

I saw that Jennifer Doty, the lady with the hurt ankle had just been snapped at by this older woman sitting behind a desk at some company in the station called Ameropa.  I thought maybe the lady was annoyed because we were Americans or something, but I thought if I spoke to her in German she’d feel better.

I explained that we called the number for the taxi but it wasn’t working, and then I asked her what we should do.  She decided to start yelling at me about how she didn’t DEAL with the taxis, that we had to go OUTSIDE to call a taxi, yada yada yada.

Now, at this point, I had about had it with people being catty with me (I’m on a trip with eight other girls after all), so I started off with my fake polite voice, which turned into me yelling at this woman about how I was soooo sorry to have upset her but goddammit, was she rude.  Yes I did tell her that.  No I don’t feel bad.

Anyway, we saw this taxi van with lots of room, so we ran up to it at the same time as one man and we got in.  I told him where we were going and he told me I would have to wait because this man apparently had dibs.  I asked if we could go together because after all, there were about six of us and one of him, so we’d all fit.  He said we’d just have to wait, so we got out and waited for another taxi.

Another one came and we ran to it, only to have it hijacked by some people who were closer.

We decided to stand where they had been and as soon as another taxi came, we raced some other tourists and grabbed it.  Haha, suckers!

We ended up having a really nice taxi driver, so maybe it was worth the wait?

I stayed up pretty late that night because it was Karaoke Night downstairs at Goldman’s bar, and there were a ton of people.  Jennifer Doty, an older student, was especially having fun.  I think she knew every song that played and she had seen about four of the bands that played in concert (ACDC, Def Leppard…Led Zeppelin? and Metallica I think).  She was freakin awesome.

I didn’t drink anything, but I had a blast, and towards the end of the night, Jennifer and I sang “Dancing in the Streets.”

I felt bad when we came back to the room because I’m certain we kept waking everybody up, especially our newest male roommate who was right by the door.  I went to check on Jennifer in the shower a lot because she was taking a really long time, and I didn’t want her to slip on the wet floor or anything and hurt her ankle even more.

The first time I checked on her, she goes “I’m okay, baby! Just puking everywhere!”

I explained to the girls later that that was why the showers smelled bad in the morning.  It was kinda funny…

The next morning, I slept for two hours on the bus ride to Dresden.  I felt bad because I slept through most of what our male tour guide said but most of the girls from our group did.  I did manage to hear a question he asked though because I remember raising my hand.

Dresden itself was beautiful.  There was no graffiti everywhere, just a ton of amazing architecture.  It was interesting how you could look straight on at the city and on one side, you’d have modern (crappy looking) buildings and on the other, you’d have these majestic buildings with statues and sculptures and emblems.

We took a quick tour (once again, you’ll get more details with the pictures) and then we had three hours to kill some time.  I tried to visit a gallery that had apparently been closed for two years, so I decided just to walk around and buy some souvenirs.  I got two. (Abe, Mom, that’s you!)

We heard that the Dixieland Festival was in Dresden that day, so we tried to see that, but we couldn’t find it.  We did manage to find a one-man band by the named of Honky Tonk Hugo.  He was singing in English, but I’m pretty sure he wasn’t American.

After we got back from the day trip, we spent some time in the bar.  I got to talk to Pablo for a few hours, which was nice.  He even stole me a lemon slice.  Woot!

Also, the bartender’s name was Luke, and he played Tenacious D for me.  =)

Yesterday we visited a Stasi prison, which was very interesting.  We were supposed to have a tour guide that used to be a Stasi prisoner, but that ended up not working out.

After that we went to a Resistance Memorial, where we learned about The White Rose, saw a documentary, and stayed in the office of the actual Valkyrie.

I’ve been trying to upload my pictures, so that you can actually get some more details on all this awesomeness, but it’s not working for some reason.

In the mean time, I’ll just keep writing! Not now, though, I needs my sleep.

Oh well, if not, I’ll cover it later.  Anyway, the first place we stopped at supposedly smelled like weed (you know me, I’m bad with smells) and the guy running the shop was missing a lot of teeth.  He was selling what looked like graffiti but it was on bags and shirts and canvases and stuff, so I guess it wasn’t really graffiti.  He said in the back (it looked like a really run down, dirty room with tan bean bag chairs or something) they had free art lessons because, like one of the shirts said “free education for everyone.”

Then we went inside a gate, with all kinds of workshops.  We saw a guy who sold jewelry made from silverware (it was some badass crap right there, lemme tell you), someone who did metal work, someone who, like me, loved bunny rabbits (I almost bought a standing hare with a cigarette in its mouth) and various other types of artists.  Then we went up flight after flight of stairs, which were covered–no, LAYERED in graffiti and posters.  I ran into some Hispanic artists…twice actually…I bought a necklace from the Peruvian one.  Dr. Ute said he gave it to me for less than what it was worth because I spoke Spanish and was a girl.  He had never dropped the price, I told her, but she said there was no way it was only worth as much as I paid for it.

Anyway, after that we ate at a Cuban restaurant.  Dr. Z forgot he was in Germany, and at one point, he questioned the waitress who said the beer was a real Cuban beer.  He figured it out later.

Yesterday was…hm…I dunno…kind of a bummer in some ways, kind of awesome in others.

First of all, did I mention they put a boy in our room? His name was…I’m not sure how you spell it…Ekain.  He was from the Northern part of Spain.

So yeah, that was just a random fact.  Anyway, yesterday we went to a museum and a gallery.  That part was awesome.  The museum we went to is the Pergamon Museum–it’s really famous and has the Babylonian Gates of Ishtar (awwwwwwwwwwwesommmmmmmme!!!).

Anyway, afterward we went to a gallery where I thought I was going to pee. in. my. pants.  I’m uploading the pictures as we speak.  Unfortunately, they don’t do it justice.  Afterward we started walking back home, and on the way, we stopped in shoe heaven.  It was store filled from top to bottom with shoes, shoes, and more shoes.  They were vintage, too, and super awesome.  I didn’t get any though.  The ones I tried were pricy and didn’t fit comfortably.

Unlike the day, the night pretty much sucked.  It’s a long story, though, and it makes me feel a bit like an ingrate, so I’ll leave it out.  The only good thing that came out of that was that I got to call Mike (hi Mike! I love you!).

This morning we were supposed to go the Frida Kahlo museum, then to the Kaethe Kollwitz museum.  Well, we got to the Frida Kahlo museum and Dr. Ute took one look at the line and went “Oh shit.”  The line was ridiculous.  It would’ve been at least a 2-hour wait.

So we decided to go down a few blocks to the Salvador Dali exhibition.  I was so excited, I was tingling.  But then we got there and they said it would be 9 Euros per person (that was the student discount) and the only thing to see would be a few drawings, a video, and some cultures.  F that S, we went to the Kaethe Kollwitz museum instead.

It was really touching.  Strangely enough, the most haunting part about it were the self portraits.  Kollwitz was just staring at you with tired eyes, like “What the hell are YOU doing to make the world a better place? There are starving children out there and YOU NEVER FINISH YOUR FOOD.”

What? We each have our vices.  That’s not really mine, but it still happens….

So yeah, after that we shopped, met at this famous church, saw some awesome break dancers, and shopped some more.  I got tired around dinner and decided to turn in early, but since I was the only one, it gave me a chance to get to know the NEW roommate (Ekain left, so we got another) Pablo.  (Mike, guess what? He’s from Santiago!)

Then I slept, and now I’m blogging, and in about 3 minutes I’m heading downstairs to go out with Lindsey and some British folks.  She just couldn’t find some Germans could she?  Now I’ma be speaking English all night.

I’m sitting by a radiator, staring out the window.  Half the view is pretty terrible, half of it is sooo cute!

On one side there’s some construction or something being done, so there’s this massive green mesh shit covering up the scaffolding on the side of a building with a huge yellow pipe snaking its way up the wall.  Ick.

But right next to that is a cute little yellow building…nevermind, it’s not “little”, it’s about six stories tall with a nice little rooftop patio.  That IS little.

So yeah, today.  Exhausting.

We were supposed to go on a 6-hour walking tour of the city of Berlin.

We got up at 7:30, had a smorgasbord of shit to eat downstairs at 8:30.  No really, it was amazing.  There were two small tables; one was covered in bowls of oats, sugared nuts, mixtures of cereal, raisins, etc., milk, and fruit cocktail.  The other table had boiled eggs (complete with those fancy little silver egg bowl holder thingies), different kinds of bred, slices of mozzarella and swiss, tomato slices, salami and ham, watermelon, some random DELICIOUS melon thing, oranges…I think that’s everything.

Hell, I ate at least seven slices of thinly sliced watermelon, some of that melon crap, a bowl of fruit cocktail with yogurt and granola, two orange slices and a slice of bread with mozzarella and tomatoes.  And salami.  And mint tea.  And a small almond cookie.  YUM!

So anyhoozles, we left for the tour at 9:30 am with this guy named Preston who was pretty witty.  He was American but seemed to know Berlin like it was the back of his hand.

Anyway, our 6-hour tour turned into a 9-hour tour.  I took lots of pictures, which I upload later.

Among the things we saw:  more graffiti, more hipsters/cute outfits, different shops, a replica of Checkpoint Charlie, an awesome chocolate shop (with a chocolate volcano, a giant chocolate teddy bear, and chocolate replicas of different memorials), a really cool Murdered Jewish memorial, awesome buildings (like “the” synagogue, and some unconventional-looking Lutheran and Catholic churches)…let’s see what else…a memorial for all the homosexuals that were killed in the Holocaust, a memorial done by Kaethe Kollwitz, the Berlin wall, Lego buildings (not what they sound like), a Soviet memorial…some Parliament buildings, awesome courtyards.  I’ll elaborate some once I upload my pictures onto Facebook. (Facebook friends, be on the lookout!)

Did I mention that our tour guide dressed like Indiana Jones?  I swear to God! All he needed was a whip.

Anyway, now we’re getting ready to leave for this awesome artistic community that I’ve been looking forward to since last night.  Apparently some artists squatted there a long time ago and got into this fight with the guys who bought it, so they paid 1 DM a month for 10 years and then the owners went bankrupt, but they’re refusing to sell it because they’re kinda mad at the artists for not wanting to give it up to them (ever).  Screw them, I want the art community to stay…

So yeah, that’s been today thus far.  Sorry if I’ve rambled.  I’m tired.  Ohhh so tired.

Off to the artsy thingymagoog!

I can’t believe it’s been two days since Mike hugged and re-hugged me at the airport in Columbia before I left for Detroit, then Amsterdam, then Berlin.  Maybe it’s because I haven’t slept in about, oh I dunno, 24 hours?  That could be WAY wrong, but I’m too tired to know for sure.

So, as for the adventure thus far:

Our first flight was delayed.  We had to rebook our second and third.  I watched two movies back to back on the second (eight hour) flight.  One was an independent Indian movie called London Dreams.  I don’t really know how I feel about it.

I also got to sit beside a lady from India, and that was pretty cool.  She had a really sweet tattoo.  I guess the place to get a tat is good ole SLC.  That’s where she got hers.

When we finally got to Berlin, it was so much colder than I expected it to be.  We rode taxis to the youth hostel, settled in for hour-long naps (if you can call dazed lounging a nap), and then went to lunch.

Yeah, lunch.  We friggin left Columbia at…1:45? Yeah, that’s right, and we got to Berlin at…well, 6 a.m. your time (my darling Eastern Standard timers).  Anyway, it was about noon here, so we went across the street to a backerei and got some munchies.  Then we went out into the freeeeezing cold and walked around.

On our walk we saw so much graffiti.  It made me want to pick up my stencil cutter and get to vandalisin’!  (Not that I would…maybe.)

I also noticed that little German babies are SO FREAKIN’ CUTE!!!  There was one little girl, about 1 or 2 years old, who kept smiling at our group and stopping to turn around and wave.  I swear she knew we were tourists.

Then we walked some more to the Berlin wall memorial and to the Chapel of Reconciliation.  It was slightly depressing, and very cold.  After looking at the Death Strip, we walked back to the Circus Hostel, where I dozed and waited for Hope Hornsby to let me borrow her laptop (thanks Hope!).

In about an hour, we’re heading downstairs to the bar where they have a free keg of beer every night at 8 pm.  Then hopefully it’s hit-the-sack time at 9 (we have a six hour walking tour after breakfast at 8:30 tomorrow morning).

I haven’t felt the excitement of being in Germany hit me yet.  But I’m sure I’ll come around.  In the meantime, I’ll just have to keep you folks back home posted on all the happenings.

Much love–MC

“We love to do the number limbo!”

Well of course they did.  For one thing, they were probably no more than two feet tall, and they’re biggest worry was whether brother Tommy ate the last pudding Snack Pack (Dibs!).

If you don’t know what song I’m talking about, then click on this for a refresher.  Okay, so it’s in Spanish, and the kids doing the limbo are made of Legos that look a lot like Star Wars characters.  But the tune is the same!  And so are the words…if you know Spanish.

Anyway, the point is doing the limbo has gotten a lot harder.  It’s no longer a literal pole you’re bending backwards for, but people and schools and choices involving the expectations of those people in those schools.  (It’s a mouthful, I know.)

Columbia College would like it very much if I stayed and tried out the new Media Arts program they’re trying to launch.  I’d even get to make my own movie before I graduate… if I stay.

But the University of South Carolina has had a Media Arts program for quite some time now, and though it’s in the throes of revision and reconstruction and what have you, it still has quite a bit to offer.

I guess I just have to keep weighing out the pros and cons until I make a decision.

-Sigh-

I hate doing the college limbo.

I hate doing the college limbo.

As I go under, I have to wonder

Which school would be the best for me?

Which school would be the best for me?

In one corner I have an easel, surrounded by jars of discolored water and paintbrushes.  There’s charcoal sticks for drawing lying around willy nilly.  The walls are covered in sketches.

In another corner, there’s a full size bed with a Mac computer sitting idly. It’s where I work on my films. There’s a desk off to one side. It’s covered in papers and on the wall above it, there are Post-Its with lists and brainstorming ideas for my newest movie.

I run around in a white smock, smoking cigarettes, charcoal on my face, a paintbrush in between my fingers.  There is no TV.  Only a radio, which occasionally plays music from an independent alternative station that I really like to listen to.

I don’t go to school. I just dedicate all my time to writing screenplays for indie films, smoking like a chimney, and working on various pieces of artwork.  I’m a starving artist.

I’m dreaming.

I live in a dorm.  I go to school. I don’t even smoke (though for some reason, whenever I find myself thinking about certain situations I might face, I’m always holding a cigarette).

Anyway, I still have responsibilities.  I’m doing what I should be doing so I can live the life my society thinks I should live, when I would much rather be lazy and work on my art.

Why anybody would want to be a starving artist, I don’t really understand.  I just know there’s something very alluring about the whole bohemian lifestyle.

Or maybe it’s just because I have found what I love to do, and it’s all I really want to do.  I don’t care if it brings me money—though that would certainly be a plus—and I don’t care if it means I’ll be living out of my comfort zone for a while.

I guess the only thing keeping me here is that I do want to make films one day—great films—and the only way to know how to do that is to go to school.

In the meantime, I’ll just keep dreaming.  And I’ll probably be holding a cigarette, for that matter.

You might even say I’m “twitterpated”. 

I practically skip from class to class.  My head is filled with exciting images–grandiose plans for the future!  Even now, I feel a sense of eager anticipation building up inside. 

I simply cannot wait to spend some quality time editing my final video.

I think about it all the time.  That’s how I know I’ve found my passion. 

It started in my Writing 200 class.  I absolutely hated writing articles for that class, but we did have one final project that struck my fancy. 

We had to make a video. 

I had never made movies before, and I really had no clue how to use a Mac or iMovie, for that matter. 

It took me from October 24, 2009 until December 2, 2009 to film and edit a 2-minute video, and I loved every minute of it. 

And now here I am, four months later, ready to start on what will be my sixth video.  I’ve even decided to pursue a career making independent films.  I love collecting footage then editing it to make an informative work of art.  

Know what else I love? Up-ing my views on YouTube, so be a friend and check out my channel.

What if I told you my favorite fashion accessories were high heels, cute cardigans and long necklaces (perfect for layering)?

Would you still believe me?

What if I told you that I prefer to wear Converses, skin-tight red plaid pants, band t-shirts and studded jean jackets with the sleeves cut off?  Oh, and patches.  Lots and lots of patches.

Honestly, would it really matter?

To tell you the truth, I’m really not a punk rocker.  Not because I wear heels and cute outfits but because I’m just not.  For one thing, I care a lot about how I dress.  Punk rockers really aren’t supposed to do that.

That doesn’t mean it’s any more punk rock to buy loads of hairspray to hold up your Mohawk or to sew patches onto the shirt you intentionally cut up.

My boyfriend plays in a band called The Chiltons, where the bassist is probably the only person who dresses somewhat “punk rock.”  When they started playing in Columbia, S.C., they were told that the scene there didn’t seem to accept them as much because they don’t have the look some of the more popular, though less talented bands have.  (Not my words, by the way!)

In my opinion–and you can see this in my video “Skinny Pants and Patches:  A Look on Punk Rock Fashion”–people should just wear what they want without feeling influenced or judged by others.

So the next time I decide I want to wear a mini-skirt and heels to a house show, deal with it.

Case and point?

This blog.  It was supposed to be up by 11:55 last night.  For a grade.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t just blog because I  have to.  I just don’t seem to remember to make the time to do it.

With the way Writ 390 works, we have to do more than make a movie here and there.  We actually have to write for the web (who would’ve thought with a name like WRIT 390?).

Anyway, I already forgot to post one, and I seem to have completely missed the fact that we’re supposed to post our blog drafts on Koala Connection in order to get graded.  (For those of you who don’t know, Koala Connection is the website we use at Columbia College to check class updates, look at our grades, discuss on forums, and in the case of this particular class, post our blog drafts…unless you’re me.)

Blogging isn’t the only thing I forget to do.  I completely forgot to do two of my math assignments, and we can’t take our tests unless they’re done.  After six hours in the math lab the other day, I finally finished the homework and the test, but I got points taken off for taking it late.

And the best part of all this?  The entire time I’ve been writing this blog, I’ve had a shotgun microphone sitting right next to the computer.

“But, Marycruz,” you might ask, “what does the shotgun mic have to do with anything?”

Well, dear reader, glad you asked!  See, that shotgun mic is part of some very expensive equipment that somebody checked out from the library.  And it just so happens that they don’t even use the shotgun mic, but for some strange reason, they took it out of their bag yesterday when they were in the computer lab (where I’m typing this blog), and it seems it’s stayed here ever since!  Of course, they only just noticed it.

Know who the someone is who’s leaving expensive equipment lying around for others to take at the first sign of temptation?

I’m not telling.  Or maybe I just forgot.