Hitting the Jackpot: My First internship

I secured my first work placement ever during my second year of University quite by accident. As a non-UK national studying in the UK, my campus in Farnham had an International Students Advisor specifically to deal with non-British students like myself. During our conversation that day, it emerged that her brother was working for euronews, the pan-European TV and online news channel that was based in Lyon, where my parents had settled during my first year of University. Faced with the prospect of unpaid work experience at a local radio or TV station reporting about a charity’s latest project, the opportunity was too good to miss. With his contact details at hand, she urged me to contact him. Within 10 days of sending my first email, I had a response.

In order to take a work placement in France, a document known as a convention de stage (work placement agreement) is required of all prospective interns. Finding out just what it was proved easy, with the help of my parents and some independent research. Obtaining the appropriate document was another story altogether. That took a bit more research into finding the appropriate representative for my University to sign the document. I found a sample convention de stage in both English and French from the University of Warwick’s website but my University had no similar copy.

It was therefore up to the Head of Student Administration to change the letterhead of the agreement and replace the University of Warwick with the University for the Creative Arts. The wait was agonising even without my parents continued pressure to get the task over and done with as quickly as possible saying that my time was running out. But at last, I found my documents completed and forwarded to the Human Resources Manager in Lyon.

The internship itself started later and ended sooner than I anticipated. Although I was told that my credentials were acceptable in April, it wasn’t until August that I began to work. The first day was pleasant enough at first, meeting the members of the English news team as well as members of other language teams. From there, I was shown how my news bulletin would be recorded in a small booth the size of a British telephone booth with a small screen and voice recorder. It was a nerve-wracking experience, trying to write a script for my news bulletin and thinking that somehow my frightened inexperienced voice would be heard by someone else in a sitting room far away.

To my surprise (and relief), I was given more of an explanation as to how the internship would work. For two weeks, I was to shadow the members of the team, taking note of how they proceeded and what sort of equipment was used. I could even take a shot at recording a news bulletin or two, but my voice would not be broadcast due to French laws protecting interns from unpaid work. I wouldn’t be the dogsbody, making photocopies or cups of tea for senior staff.  It was purely a learning experience. Even the articles I wrote for the website would not have a by-line. But I learned not to care, as long as I could add in my CV that I really had done practical work.

With time running low and so many things to explain to my peers at University, I fortunately had the presence of mind to put together a video diary of my experience. As far as filming goes, I admit that it is not the work of a professional but I hope that the thousand pictures that unfold before your eyes will tell you more than the thousand words I may write here.

The US Embassy Riots in Tunis: A Drive Through

On the day that the US embassy was stormed by rioters, I was in Marsa with my parents having a look at some of the houses in the area. Soon afterwards, my sisters and I were taken to the local shopping centre where we were met by an acquaintance of my parents. When they left for Laos in the 1980’s, she came to buy some of their items. She is a French teacher at the American Cooperative School of Tunis, located on the other side of the highway where the US embassy could be found. After chatting with my parents and catching up, she explained that she had the day off in anticipation of riots breaking out after the deadly attack on the US embassy in Libya.

In the early afternoon, my father drove the car along the highway where the school and the embassy were located. The sight we saw before us remains imprinted in my mind to this day.

The overpasses above the motorway were packed with people, jostling each other for the chance to witness the protests for themselves. I peered to my left, past my father and saw bearded young men carrying the black Islamic banner that has become a common sight associated with the Salafi movement since the ruling coalition took power in Tunisia. One of the rioters propped a metal crowd control barrier against the wall of the compound so that its bars could serve as rungs for a makeshift ladder and several witnesses were capturing the action on their mobile phones and digital cameras.

The most absurd sight of the day was that of the riot police. A group of no more than 10 officers raced to the scene of the riots on foot, while two mopeds carrying two officers each followed them.

The back seat of the car was ablaze with discussion and my mother urged me to take a photo or keep some memory of the event. I sadly did not have a camera with me to record this day. All that you read before you are the highlights of what I witnessed on that day.

By the late afternoon, my sister Leila was on her iPad. She read aloud the latest updates from Al-Jazeera to my mother in the kitchen while my father raged at the government for its inability to prevent the attack on the embassy and the school nearby. The Associated Press put the body count of the protest at 2 dead and 40 injured on that day.

A journalist I met at the World Press Freedom Day Conference in Tunisia reported that President Moncef Marzouki personally dispatched his Presidential Guard to quell the riots, playing a “risky political card”. The American Cooperative School of Tunis had sections of its Elementary School burned down and computers and tablets were stolen. Up till now, it is still collecting donations of money and books for its Recovery Fund.

For my own part, I am thankful that my parents were able to get back to our house before the riots became truly violent. I am additionally thankful that despite the scaremongering generated by news outlets the problems that Tunisia faces are not as violent as in neighbouring Libya or in Syria.

Epiphany (2 of 2)

My evolution as a journalist has been anything but smooth. From embarrassing mistakes to modest successes, I finally came to a conclusion. I loved writing about art, culture, entertainment and the environment. I wrote about what I thought I was passionate about. The truth was, I wasn’t so knowledgeable about any of those subjects that I could write long-winded musings and analyses that I read in the so-called “quality newspapers”. Nor was I content with spewing stories about scandals and outrages and famous people that appealed to the perverse side of curiosity. Everything I ever wrote just sounded like rubbish. Too academic, not smart enough; too long-winded…the list of faults could go on forever.

But I had an epiphany tonight. I am writing down as fast as I can, while my epiphany lasts. Any minute longer and I may forget my ideas and let another project die. The fact is that I don’t know how to write like Robert Fisk or Janine Di Giovanni. I don’t have all the resources they have. And I don’t really want to be their carbon copy. All I have is the ability to write creatively and the tendency to be in exciting situations. Sometimes I am prepared to document it all, be it by pen, camera or Dictaphone. Sometimes, the turbulence catches me on an off day.

If there is one thing I’ve learned in Journalism, it’s that everyone has a story to tell. As long as a living being has a past, a present and a future, there is never a boring moment in life. And because of this, journalism is necessarily subjective. To be well informed of the world around us and to make sense of it all, it goes without saying that we need an equal amount of information and opinion on both sides of the story. But as we delve deeper, it gets harder and harder to remain detached.

I’m starting this blog like many other people, writing about my personal experiences and my opinions. I don’t claim to be an expert in the things I see before me. I hope not to bore you with wordy analysis. I am just a witness to history, like so many people before me. If journalism is the first draft of history, this is the first of many drafts. I have a voice, like everyone else and I mean to have it heard. There won’t be a dull moment when I write about what I write.

The rest is up to you, dear reader. Read my work if you wish. Comment and let me know what mistakes I have made or what your thoughts are. Or just enjoy reading. And wish me luck from here on out.

Epiphany (1 of 2)

*A piece written by stream of consciousness on September 20, 2012. Reading this will help you understand how I intend to go about making this blog.

I graduated from University with a Bachelors of Arts in Journalism, thinking that it would be ideal for a creative writer. It was the chance for me to write about books and films, the environment and the arts and every other curiosity I thought I knew and understood.

As time went by and I really learned what journalism was like in practical terms, my tutors gave me their insight into my development as a journalist in training. My weakness, they said, was not like that of my peers. While many of my classmates struggled to write academic essays and managed to write reasonably well as journalists, I excelled in academic research and writing but struggled as a reporter. The good news was that I had news sense. I had a way of knowing what was newsworthy, something that could not be taught.

I chose to specialise in Radio Journalism because I felt that I didn’t have the right personality type to be a presenter or news anchor. My strength was in my voice, I believed. With the fast paced evolution of new social networking technologies and the ever-changing landscape that is modern journalism, I chose to specialise in Online Journalism. I wrote for WordPress and Blogger individually and with a group as was required by my tutors. It was there that I understood that my greater success came from combining my writing with a strong team of technically able people.