The day I'd been waiting for

It was shaping up to be one of my best interviews yet. The only interview I’d managed to line up on my own here in Romania and that’s only because the very friendly contact I made at the SMURD Foundation understood my English in email and replied. The others have gone unnoticed.

I am to interview Dr Raed Arafat, a Palestinian born medic, who studied in Romania and has since gone beyond the call of duty and established SMURD (mobile emergency service) – a unique combination of the emergency services here in Romania and who now holds a position at the Ministry of Health.

My work here, for those who don’t know, is to document on video, some of the interviews taking places here in Romania and Hungary with people who have taken up citizenship in both countries. Dr Raed Arafat is a Romanian citizen, and a notable public figure for his contributions to the public health system. He’s a ‘good’ example of a citizen and ‘immigrant’ though he doesn’t consider himself one.

I start to research and discover he’s the second cousin of Yasser Arafat, the once leader of the Palestinian Liberation Organisation (PLO). I get excited for some reason. The day arrives, it’s 35 degrees and we’ve been carrying gear all over the city till we reach the Ministry of Health at 5pm. He’s locked us in late so we won’t have to rush I think to myself. Very kind.

All the interviews I’ve read about him tell tales that he’s a hard man to get, and keep. He’s often volunteering with an emergency service or attending to very important matters.

We arrive and he’s not seated at his desk, but rather at the large boardroom style table in his office. He’s tapping away at his Mac computer and I feel we have a connection before words are spoken. He acknowledges our presence but continues to demand things from his PA. I feel intimidated. This man knows what he’s doing and knows how to get it done.

The first fifteen minutes we are there, our attempts to explain who we are and where we’re from are interrupted by numerous phone calls. One, about a major road collision and another about someone trying to undermine SMURD activities in another county. Can hardly ask him to put his phone on silent. But then he does! He notices I have a strange accent (first in this country to make note) and I don’t have to say I’m from Australia. Though he was once denied entry to Australia with his Romanian passport he seems to know our accent.

I set up the camera, ask him to sit in front of the Romanian flag and we’re off. It goes fast and he moves around and I dare not stop him to re-position the camera. We’re done and he springs out of his chair as though it was perfectly timed and calls the Minister of Health, who is waiting for him! I guess I wasn’t the last thing on his list today.

We say good bye and thank him for his time. And we’re gone. Didn’t get to small talk about Palestine, didn’t take a photo with him nor tell him I want to be a Paramedic someday and didn’t get some overlay of him sitting at his desk signing some important document, like I’ve been trained to do.

I watch back the footage. Definitely not the best I’ve achieved thus far. In fact rather disappointing. How did I manage to stuff up my most important interview?
I had tried to arrange to ride in an ambulance to gain ‘important’ footage for the story but that didn’t happen. Maybe just as well as I might get so excited that I’d not concentrate on filming. Like that time I put my hand up to film a knee reconstruction and got so engrossed in the surgery that I didn’t realize my picture was over-exposed. It’s been my dream for a while to ride in an ambulance but maybe Romania won’t be where that dream comes true.

Still a memorable interview with a man who has extraordinary vision and determination to overcome even the toughest and most complex bureaucracies that exists. An applause for this Mr Arafat please.

(If you’re interested in finding out about SMURD, visit www.smurd.ro )

1st June has much significance

Today is the first day of Summer and also International Children’s Day (though seems only celebrated here in the former Eastern bloc). It’s raining and a bitterly cold 16 degrees. I’m also away from my family, who are European but never seemed to tell me about Children’s Day nor shower me with over-priced gifts. I don’t feel like such a winner today.. I escaped Australia ‚knowing’ i’d eventually be hit with a European summer and escape Sydney’s cold winter. I contemplate writing to the Ministry of Tourism or perhaps the European Union and asking for my airfare to be reimbursed. Seems like the joke’s on me. The sun still seems to shine in Sydney while here it does not.

There’s no apparent buzz word here to describe this climatic schizophrenia. No global warming warning, no apparent amazement at the oddity the weather patterns display. Is Europe exempt from the global warming guilt? Surely there’s enough industrilisation even here in Romania that such an impact must be notable? Causing some affect? I suspect it is.

On matters European, the other evening I celebrated a memorable event, albeit a superficial one. My first LIVE Eurovison Song Contest broadcast. I didn’t have to wait a whole day for SBS to broadcast the event nor evade the cruel folks who each year seem intent to spoil the fun I create for myself waiting for this yearly iconic event.

No this year, I watched it live and faced the excitement of being able to vote. A double whammee. The friends came over, there was beer and wine and Țuica. Comments were aplenty as the Romanian compères tried their best to seem knowledgeable – though nothing in comparison to the BBC Knight, Terry Wogan.

There’s much fun in waiting as each country takes its turn to try the least humiliating way to convince the world, if not Europe, that they can sing. Musicians and songwriters must hate this competition - but sadly I LOVE IT. There are beautiful women and men, dressed in the most complex outfits, usually white. There are fireworks and flames and lyp sincing even Britney Spears would ridicule. But the real fun, or best I say, the real illusion is the hour-long collection of votes. As we’re busy sending text messages to vote for our favourite country, (we can’t vote for our own country as that would be unfair!) all the votes are collated and an English speaking host (if only that at times) present the results form their country. (I do have to admit that I wasn’t actually able to vote as one sms cost 1.49 Euro – of course I didn’t have enough credit). We all sit and wait as though there’s a mystery unfolding. But each year it’s the same plot with a different protagonist. Greece votes for Cyprus, Romania for Moldova, Spain for Portugal and so forth. Israel seems to fluctuate from year to year. Of course it’s a mystery how Israel is even in the competition seeing as its not in Europe (and for several other reasons that seem obvious to me)..I digress.

I start to have a premonition that Greece will win. They are scoring well. I think this will be a token gesture to help ease their economic woes. But I get it wrong. Of course how could Greece afford to host such an extravagant event I’m asked? (Surely it’s like the Olympics – the host country gets sorted out some way?) Instead Germany is thanked for bailing out the Mediterranean cause and Turkey gets a consolation 2nd. I’m pleased to reiterate that (my) Romania come third. Quite impressive. Best result in years. There are excited remarks from all in Romania amidst the shock of a pixie song by an alleged porn star! winning what is normally a European dance sensation.

On a musical note this year I’m disappointed. There are no flamboyant dance numbers, no flames on stage, save for Romania, not many scathingly clad women and not many songs sung in European languages.

I’d like to motion that the Eurovision conglomeration ban songs in English (except for Engalnd and Ireland of course). Im a puritan and I vote for conserving European languages! Perhaps I’ll write them a letter. Perhaps they’ll read it and laugh.

At least I live knowing I watched Eurovision live on TV and who knows, one day I may even get to go to the event in person. I’ll hold out waiting. Another Eurovision is over and I sit here clicking refresh on the weather page hoping for a brighter forecast in days to come.