The shoot begins, a turn for the worse
Up early feeling dazed. I'd been unable to sleep so around midnight, bathed in my own sweat and feeling anxious about the next day's shoot I took a diazepam. This led me to snore like a hippo apparently, waking Matt and forcing him to employ earplugs. I'm not much of a snorer usually.
All the group in purposeful mood. Brad the camerman and Pete the photographer straining at the leash to get going early when the colours were great. Breakfasts big and heavy in the compound with lots of meat (usually goat or chicken), and this taken down with lots of water and we were off. An extremely hot day. The Africans saying it was a heatwave, and complaining about the heat.
Matt Brad and I were focused on getting the shots we needed for the TV ad. So during the day we filmed Fatima and her family, focusing on her daughter Kadija as our star. We filmed Fatima holding the day's food in the palm of her hand, digging in ant nests and so on in the morning. In the middle of the day we sat about in the centre of the village, with the Chief who brought us meat to eat. I was a bit aghast at gorging in a starving village, but I was assured that we were ultimately paying for it.
When I wrote the script for the DRTV ad I had envisaged a camera swooping down from the sky to look into the eyes of a child in the village. With the drone we were able to do this, but in reverse. We had the drone hovering in front of her and then sped it away. Many challenges about this, keeping the entire village from wanting to be in the shot, and not least that Kadija had thought we were going to abduct her, when she was summoned after lunch by the chief. We made sure her mother was nearby, and Steve manipulating the drone controls backing away and falling into a ditch made her laugh a good deal. Eventually after several attempts we got a killer shot.
Later we then shot Kadija, looking into her face at the edge of the crops out into the more barren lands, for the traditional big eyed 'ask' shot at the end of the DRTV advert. This getting quite fraught, as Brad was badly dehydrated, his monopod on which he rested his camera was playing up, the Chief was getting unhappy and worried about Kadija, while Fatima radiated rebellion. Luckily Tchang our translator was doing sterling work in managing the politics of it while we tried to get the shot. Eventually Brad got it.
We'd done everything we set out to achieve, but the patience of the village was being strained. And the Chief was insisting that we give the village a wide berth tomorrow. Pete Caton, meanwhile striding about the place taking loads of photos and befriending everyone.
We were packing up the cars in the middle of the village, when Steve and Pete returned, but with bad news. Steve had been taken ill and was vomiting and looking really grim. We got him into the car, and started driving back to the compound. But had to pull up to let him, slither outside and vomit copiously. Back in the compound much concern. The kind Passiri summoned a doctor, who was actually a nurse but able to prescribe. We sourced a sterile needle and he was given an anti vomiting drug. The pastor came from the church next door, and there was a good deal of praying, with people stood around Steve in the dark. The rest of us sat about worriedly. The most likely diagnosis was sunstroke. I myself was feeling a bit nauseous, weak and hot. Brad then made things worse by starting to vomit too. At some point during these proceedings the generator went on the blink and we were pitched into darkness. Then when the lights resumed crowds of locusts started banging into us sitting at the table, and filling the compound with a weaving flurry of insects.
All to bed, two down with vomiting and sunstroke, loads to be done tomorrow. Into the sweaty box of the room with Matt. A bit of a nadir.
Below Fatima, standing where she had dug an ant's nest, a lizard settles on Steve's trousers at lunchtime, two shots stolen from Matt of me and Brad at the edge of the village where we spent much time; a visitor to our room about 4 inches long.
All the group in purposeful mood. Brad the camerman and Pete the photographer straining at the leash to get going early when the colours were great. Breakfasts big and heavy in the compound with lots of meat (usually goat or chicken), and this taken down with lots of water and we were off. An extremely hot day. The Africans saying it was a heatwave, and complaining about the heat.
Matt Brad and I were focused on getting the shots we needed for the TV ad. So during the day we filmed Fatima and her family, focusing on her daughter Kadija as our star. We filmed Fatima holding the day's food in the palm of her hand, digging in ant nests and so on in the morning. In the middle of the day we sat about in the centre of the village, with the Chief who brought us meat to eat. I was a bit aghast at gorging in a starving village, but I was assured that we were ultimately paying for it.
When I wrote the script for the DRTV ad I had envisaged a camera swooping down from the sky to look into the eyes of a child in the village. With the drone we were able to do this, but in reverse. We had the drone hovering in front of her and then sped it away. Many challenges about this, keeping the entire village from wanting to be in the shot, and not least that Kadija had thought we were going to abduct her, when she was summoned after lunch by the chief. We made sure her mother was nearby, and Steve manipulating the drone controls backing away and falling into a ditch made her laugh a good deal. Eventually after several attempts we got a killer shot.
Later we then shot Kadija, looking into her face at the edge of the crops out into the more barren lands, for the traditional big eyed 'ask' shot at the end of the DRTV advert. This getting quite fraught, as Brad was badly dehydrated, his monopod on which he rested his camera was playing up, the Chief was getting unhappy and worried about Kadija, while Fatima radiated rebellion. Luckily Tchang our translator was doing sterling work in managing the politics of it while we tried to get the shot. Eventually Brad got it.
We'd done everything we set out to achieve, but the patience of the village was being strained. And the Chief was insisting that we give the village a wide berth tomorrow. Pete Caton, meanwhile striding about the place taking loads of photos and befriending everyone.
We were packing up the cars in the middle of the village, when Steve and Pete returned, but with bad news. Steve had been taken ill and was vomiting and looking really grim. We got him into the car, and started driving back to the compound. But had to pull up to let him, slither outside and vomit copiously. Back in the compound much concern. The kind Passiri summoned a doctor, who was actually a nurse but able to prescribe. We sourced a sterile needle and he was given an anti vomiting drug. The pastor came from the church next door, and there was a good deal of praying, with people stood around Steve in the dark. The rest of us sat about worriedly. The most likely diagnosis was sunstroke. I myself was feeling a bit nauseous, weak and hot. Brad then made things worse by starting to vomit too. At some point during these proceedings the generator went on the blink and we were pitched into darkness. Then when the lights resumed crowds of locusts started banging into us sitting at the table, and filling the compound with a weaving flurry of insects.
All to bed, two down with vomiting and sunstroke, loads to be done tomorrow. Into the sweaty box of the room with Matt. A bit of a nadir.
Below Fatima, standing where she had dug an ant's nest, a lizard settles on Steve's trousers at lunchtime, two shots stolen from Matt of me and Brad at the edge of the village where we spent much time; a visitor to our room about 4 inches long.
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