Right!! So, I am unemployed again and with only one year's experience I still do not have enough experience to get a paid job so I am left with no choice but to do another internship for a week in England for a production company. Is this a waste of time? Well here is my story below. I will let you decide.
My week's internship does not start on not such a high note. Arriving at the airport in late summer, an evening flight to London Gatwick is taken. The flight is full and in order to avoid the queues from baggage claim on arrival - a carry on bag is taken with me on board. However, I also have a very small handbag too and so a sickening £80 penalty must be paid upfront as a result of breaking their strict airline rules.
From Gatwick, a long bus journey is taken to a university town. The trip is spectacular and makes me reconsider my preconceptions of the English countryside as dull and industrial. In fact, it is just the opposite.
On arrival, the village buildings are sculpted with beautiful beige stone, graced with sophistication, history and grandeur. However, there is not too much time to think about the buildings because my hostel cannot be found. Eventually finding it beside a building site, I am greeted there by an Argentinean man who without any hint of motivation talks me through the rules and layout of the hostel before guiding me through to my abode for the week.
The following morning, the lights are turned on at 6am by my other roommates. Rising early, there is an adrenaline inside me which prevents me to return to sleep.
Without any problems, the office is found only minutes away from my place of stay. On arrival a tall blond middle aged woman greets me at the door and shows me to a desk. She then tells me that no one is in yet and to wait for further instruction.
The office is small and rectangular with huge pictures of their shows and awards displayed all around the room. There is also a tiny kitchen visible at the rear end that is messy with the fridge filled with old lunches and out of date sauces. One by one, staff arrive and quickly take their seats beginning work without noticing me. At half nine, another woman introduces herself briefly and hands me a short instruction guide.
The guide is called ‘An Introduction for Interns’ and gives direction on the office surroundings and what to do for the week which pretty much amounts to researching documentary ideas. The leaflet is about twenty pages and explains absolutely everything you need to know so you never have to ask a question.
Soon later, Ella the production assistant introduces herself. She is a small brunette from Switzerland and of course speaks three languages perfectly and only two intermediate.
She tells me about the office dynamics and warns me not to disturb the staff because they are really busy. She also advises me not to expect Don the producer to like any of my ideas and even bets me £50 that he won't. It’s positivity at its best and it’s exactly what is needed to be heard on my first day.
Undeterred by Ella's comments, it is decided that it is important to make a strong effort finding documentary stories. Considering the effort made to get to England there is no point giving up so soon.
At the end of day one, I am foolishly surprised that Don the producer passes on all of my ideas. The next couple of days in the office are just as discouraging as the first. On the upside, however, Don does become more friendly and helpful but he is in no position to offer me work, only offer me useless advice that I have heard a million times before.
To the production staff, I am just one of the many interns they have had this year pounding them for a job. It baffles me as to why they bother with interns when such a lack of regard in all respects is shown towards them. The week is an utter waste of time.
Therefore, on my last night in town, there is really only one more thing to be done and that is to get absolutely tarnished with my new friends from the hostel. It helps to some extent with the stress of being an intern.
My week's internship does not start on not such a high note. Arriving at the airport in late summer, an evening flight to London Gatwick is taken. The flight is full and in order to avoid the queues from baggage claim on arrival - a carry on bag is taken with me on board. However, I also have a very small handbag too and so a sickening £80 penalty must be paid upfront as a result of breaking their strict airline rules.
From Gatwick, a long bus journey is taken to a university town. The trip is spectacular and makes me reconsider my preconceptions of the English countryside as dull and industrial. In fact, it is just the opposite.
On arrival, the village buildings are sculpted with beautiful beige stone, graced with sophistication, history and grandeur. However, there is not too much time to think about the buildings because my hostel cannot be found. Eventually finding it beside a building site, I am greeted there by an Argentinean man who without any hint of motivation talks me through the rules and layout of the hostel before guiding me through to my abode for the week.
The following morning, the lights are turned on at 6am by my other roommates. Rising early, there is an adrenaline inside me which prevents me to return to sleep.
Without any problems, the office is found only minutes away from my place of stay. On arrival a tall blond middle aged woman greets me at the door and shows me to a desk. She then tells me that no one is in yet and to wait for further instruction.
The office is small and rectangular with huge pictures of their shows and awards displayed all around the room. There is also a tiny kitchen visible at the rear end that is messy with the fridge filled with old lunches and out of date sauces. One by one, staff arrive and quickly take their seats beginning work without noticing me. At half nine, another woman introduces herself briefly and hands me a short instruction guide.
The guide is called ‘An Introduction for Interns’ and gives direction on the office surroundings and what to do for the week which pretty much amounts to researching documentary ideas. The leaflet is about twenty pages and explains absolutely everything you need to know so you never have to ask a question.
Soon later, Ella the production assistant introduces herself. She is a small brunette from Switzerland and of course speaks three languages perfectly and only two intermediate.
She tells me about the office dynamics and warns me not to disturb the staff because they are really busy. She also advises me not to expect Don the producer to like any of my ideas and even bets me £50 that he won't. It’s positivity at its best and it’s exactly what is needed to be heard on my first day.
Undeterred by Ella's comments, it is decided that it is important to make a strong effort finding documentary stories. Considering the effort made to get to England there is no point giving up so soon.
At the end of day one, I am foolishly surprised that Don the producer passes on all of my ideas. The next couple of days in the office are just as discouraging as the first. On the upside, however, Don does become more friendly and helpful but he is in no position to offer me work, only offer me useless advice that I have heard a million times before.
To the production staff, I am just one of the many interns they have had this year pounding them for a job. It baffles me as to why they bother with interns when such a lack of regard in all respects is shown towards them. The week is an utter waste of time.
Therefore, on my last night in town, there is really only one more thing to be done and that is to get absolutely tarnished with my new friends from the hostel. It helps to some extent with the stress of being an intern.
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