The meetup at the supermarket nobody showed up to

I met Rammstein without knowing it, at twelve years old, when my brother borrowed a DVD full of music videos that scared me but that I watched out of morbid curiosity anyway. “Du Hast” was on it. Years later, before school, “Keine Lust” played on TV around 6:30 a.m. — my mom would ask me to change “the video with the chubby guys.” In 2008, when “Du Hast” finally played on the radio, I wrote down the band’s name, went to an internet café, and downloaded everything I could find.

I went to Bogotá’s airport to welcome them along with dozens of other fans. I arrived late, and because of that, when they decided to leave through a different exit to see the fans, I ended up first at the security barrier — the best footage and view I have of them to this day. The next day, at the show, I discovered “Frühling in Paris” live, a song I’ll never get to hear for the first time live again.

I was at the first Mexico date in 2022: I camped the night before, had to go back to the hotel for my wristband and come back, but still landed a great spot. As a filmmaker, the band has been with me through every stage of life — in their lyrics and rhythms there’s always a song for whatever I’m going through, including a meetup we organized at a Bogotá grocery store that, in the end, nobody but me showed up to.