Day 13 June 10

I worked on making a song titled “destiny.” I love it so far, and I’m making a lot of progress on learning how to use the Acid Studio program. I would rather use Reason because it has much more to offer, but my laptop is not recognizing all the Midi Keyboards that we are using.

Richard also showed us some more videos of independent shorts. I bookmarked the page, it is called "the Smalls."

After a long, hot rehearsal in the crowded student lounge and our weekly meeting in the Library; a lot of us took off down town.

The Eurocup is being hosted in Salzburg today: Switzerland vs. Greece. We were warned against going down town at all, but Michelle and I needed to get some footage for our project. We have decided to do our movie on Soccer in Salzburg. Before going to the city, a whole group of people had dinner at the Thai restaurant down the road. Abby and I decided we wanted continue to be super cheap and head to the Billa on the main road. This particular Billa stays open longer than most Billas (stores in Europe close in the early evening and are closed on Sundays), so we knew we could grab a cheap dinner there. On the way through town the bus came to a complete halt. People were blocking the streets. We were let off the bus before the bus stop so we could walk the rest of the way. I looked out of the window as we were getting off the bus and saw a sea of yellow with blue accents: the Swedish colors. I walked quickly to the side of the road and started recording. There were a few people that would walk up and interact with me, but I could not understand what they were saying. I wish I did so I could respond. There was a small group of scantily clad blue people that seemed to be a great attraction. People walked with down the street with funny hats, tooting horns, and twirling noise makers. It was all jolly great fun. I also had a few people come up to me and hug me. After the parade ended, Abby and I went to the Billa. I bought a drink that was basically store brand Kiefer (a meal enough, since I had bread earlier), and Abby bought a loaf of bread. We decided to share our findings. We both wanted to buy some fruit, but it was all overpriced. As we made our way to the cash out line we realized we would be waiting a while. The line snaked to the side of the small store. There were probably 20 customers in front of us, and only four cash registers. For the length of the line, we did get out of the store fairly fast. We walked towards the stadium area with the huge screens. We had agreed to meet Michelle here. I stopped on the side of the road to check my footage, as I had remembered I had lost some footage that I had tried to record before. I started to rewind, but could not see it. I fairly collapsed against the wall in my huge disappointment. I pushed the play button, and a flood of relief washed over me: my parade was there! Abby and I continued the short walk through the alley ways towards the stadium.

To depart from the subject: I can never tell which are alley ways and which are actually roads. Most streets are cobbled, as are the alley ways. Alleys and roadways run together, it really is hard to tell the difference. And now back to the subject…

We walked towards the stadium and the security check point. For a second I had forgotten we were about to eat. There were raucous crowds outside the security line waiting to get in the area. I took out my camera and started filming the various people that obviously looked like soccer fans—oh, pardon me, football fans! A spotted a couple guys wearing lederhosen, the traditional male garb, but failed to notice that they saw me. How could they not, after all? I had a camera in my hand. They walked up, obviously drunk and still carrying their bottles with them (there are no open container laws). They started talking in German, and I asked the “Sprechen sie Englisch?” It is one of the only complete German phrases I have learned so far. They began speaking in broken English, but after awhile began speaking a bit more fluently. They talked about America, and how we seem to be worried about covering our bodies so much. They were referring to Janet Jackson’s stunt on half time a few years ago, when the guy singing with her ripped off a part of her clothing to reveal her breast. I told them that I did not think it was such a big deal to most American’s. They also spoke of wearing their lederhosen in the US and being called gay. I told them I liked their clothing, and I wished American’s had something similar. After some more banter about the differences in culture (I really do love learning the differences of cultures), they continued on their way and we continued on our way. We looked around the square for a good place to sit. I set up my camera on my tripod pointed towards the security checkpoint, even though it was not in view. We sat and munched and drank our food. A dude with a hose started spraying the street. We thought he would stay far down the street, but he kept coming towards us. We grabbed up our stuff and quickly walked away. I felt small droplets hit my arms as I retreated with Abby at my heels. Just in time. We finished up a bit more of our food, and then headed in through the security check point. The girls were allowed a separate line because the guys would get a pat down, some of them anyway. The female security officers glanced inside our bags, my water bottle was thrown out, and we were let in. It was so much more simple than security lines in the US.

I was surprised that they did not have more security precautions tonight, since the game was in town. There were defiantly a lot more police and army dudes hanging around in their little troops. I walked the crowd trying to find interesting people to film. I filmed a little here, a little there. Then walked to the other side of the stage area and tried another view. Everyone was too still and quiet for a good shot. After ten to twenty minutes I decided I wanted to check out the front entrance again, I usually got some good response from people coming in. I set up my camera and started situating the tripod so it was even. People seemed confused I was filming in such a location. I even had a “real” photographer with his large, amazing camera with a beautiful zoom lense attached walk over and give me a strange look, as if to say “what on EARTH are you doing?” I smiled sheepishly and he continued on his way, so I thought. I turned my head to the right and noticed he was poised to take a picture of me. I smiled and quickly turned away. I wonder what was going through his head. “That girl is going to grow up and become a great journalist: she takes on the untraditional view point.” Or “crazy girl, she has a lot to learn before she fills my position!” There were so many beautiful cameras. It made me want one so very bad.

It is amazing what a camera can do. It captures the action of the people as well as their attention. People were more aware of me while I was recording or appeared to be recording. I think the attached silver tripod made me look a bit more “professional” as well. Thus I was given more attention than a person just holding a camera. I talked with so many people, shouted and cheered. The interaction was amazing. It made me really love my decision to become a photojournalist all the more! I can hardly wait.

I walked through the crowd, back and forth, up and down, in and out; trying to find interesting football fans. People who would interact with the camera, people who would interact with me. It was exciting to see people suddenly light up and would start cheering when they saw my shiny piece of metal. It made me smile every time. I think it made more people want to join the fun as well, and make this silly little girl smile.

I found Michelle, and grabbed her battery since we both miraculously had the same camera. My battery had been threatening to die for a while now. I did not want to miss the good action! (I had already missed a bunch of fans yelling and screaming when the final goal was made on the last game!) Michelle told me she found some good stuff to film, so I told her to lead the way. We found a group of guys in Swedish jerseys (a good portion of fans were in the yellow and blue), they were loud and obnoxious, a perfect combo for a documentary on soccer fans! They started talking to us, and then invited us to join them watching the game. The second game had not yet started yet, so we sat down. I felt as if I was missing important “fan movement” when I was sitting. People were usually quiet and boring while the game was going, unless someone made a goal. So I told Michelle and Abby I would be right back. I was going to try to get some more footage. So I walked around filming more people. I talked to people from all over the place. One group was from Iraq. The put one of their little furry team hats on me and took my camera and filmed me. I laughed, embarrassed to have such a ridiculous looking item on my head, and I was on now my own camera. Ah well.

I returned to Michelle and Abby. My battery was dying, it was getting dark anyway. There was so much more rowdiness during this game then the last. I wanted to film more, but a little image of a battery flashed in the top left hand side of my screen as a warning. I took out my small still-shot digital camera instead, turned on the flash and started taking a few shots. I was so closed in and crowded I did not get very many good shots. There was at least one shot of a side profile of a girl around my age with her cheek painted with some country’s colors. She was a solid block of color while there is blur all around her, showing the intense movement of the crowd.

My absolute favorite part was when they would yell chants. One basically translated as “together we stand as Swedes” There were so many different nationalities there, but most people cheered for Sweden. I tried desperately to learn how to sing it, but I could only get the “ole!” at the end. I caught something that sounded like “fence” once in a while, but could never fully decipher the whole song.

The first goal scored, Sweden, was an impossible shot: There were three players close to the goal (one Greek, two Swedish), and the goalie. Sweden made the shot, but was blocked by the goalie, the ball ricocheting away towards the other Swede. He kicked it awkwardly—almost blindly—towards the goal, the ball just barely passed between the goalies legs and into the goal. The crowd went wild, beer was thrown everywhere. It splashed on me, but I was not hit as bad as some. Not long after Sweden scored again, and again. The game ended 3-0, Sweden was victorious! I was slightly sad because I liked Greece, but could not help myself with all of the contagious joy around me. I yelled—or, rather, mumbled quite loudly, ending with a very loud “oley!”—the lovely Swedish song with the rest of the crowd.

We headed to O’Malley’s to celebrate, and to see if any of our crowd was there as well. It was so crowded one could hardly walk around the pub. So we walked back out, bidding our new found friends adieu. We waited a couple minutes waiting for one of our KIIS friends to catch up with us. We worried that we missed him so we walked out a bit past some of the crowd surrounding the doorway. We bumped into him, and we all headed towards the bus station to home.

The police were out in great numbers now. A convoy of police cars and fire trucks (much taller and bulkier than U.S. fire trucks) paraded down the street, and then back up. Buses were packed tightly and were being redirected to avoid the immense crowd blocking the street, once again. I returned home exhausted. I’m happy, and I’m still smiling. The life of a true photojournalist is amazing, and it shall be so.