One Year of Reality and How It Nearly Killed Me: My Life Behind the Scenes (9 page)

It felt good to be in the van, but I was really hungry at this point. It had been a day, and I hadn’t eaten more than one meal since arriving in the country. The host was hungry as well, and we did a quick stop at a store to get some food on our way to the location. We were behind, and I didn’t want to hold up the host, so I just grabbed some chips. I really needed to get to the bathroom, but I knew there wasn’t time for it. Once we got to the castle, the host was dropped off, and I went in search of a bathroom. I went into the bathroom in the tourist area, but it was just a private room with a floor and a drain, not your standard bathroom—no toilet seat, no nothing! I wasn’t sure how to go. I wasn’t potty trained with just a drain. So, not knowing the most elegant way to go to the bathroom, I took off all of my clothes from the waist down, including my shoes, and set them aside so I could squat over the drain. I did my business and was thankful that I lived in the modern world with plumbing. I would’ve never
survived in the olden days. I returned to the location where the race was being run. I hadn’t seen much of the contestants that day and wanted to make sure I stayed in the background. Once the shooting was finished, and the race had ended for the day, the crews packed up and went to the hotels. They were tired and hungry.

The only restaurant at the castle/hotel where we were staying was closed to the crew.

I couldn’t believe it. The crew was kind of cranky at that point. They would have been cranky regardless, but they were extra cranky that they weren’t able to eat at the fancy restaurant at the hotel. People who were staying at the castle for their vacation wanted an elegant night of fine dining, and the thought was that the crew would destroy that. I begged the maître d’ to let them eat. I put on the big tears, sad look—what I call the poo-poo face—and it seemed to work. He told me that the chef was not pleased, but he would stay around to help feed my crew. No one had made reservations for them, and it was very inconvenient for the restaurant to stay open, as they only had so much food prepared based on their reservations, but they did it.

Crisis averted. Kind of.

So my crew, who were like the Beverly Hillbillies, overran the restaurant. We were not dressed to the nines; in fact, we were kind of grimy. We did the best we could, but the crew didn’t have much in the way of wardrobe, and it was a hot and dusty day. So we certainly upset the other guests who were already dining. Alison, who had joined us in Paris, was working with the crew and talking to them about what they’d be doing the following day, walking all around the restaurant to make sure that everyone was eating. We became loud. The maître d’ asked me to tell my people to quiet down and act civilized since we were disturbing the others. I told him I would do my best. I pulled Alison aside and told her of the maître d’s request, which was ignored. The best thing I could do was walk away. I didn’t have any dinner. I was trying to figure out how to communicate with everyone about the call times for the next day, since the crew was spread across three hotels.

We had a mini production meeting with the producers, myself, and Alison. How could we make sure that everyone knew when they had to call in?

I suggested call sheets, but that idea was quickly rejected. There was no time and no easy way of putting them together and distributing them. The crew would be asleep by the time we had them ready. We
figured out a way for them to automatically calculate their call times. The contestants knew that once they stopped, it would be twelve hours before they started again. The rule of the show was that from the time the team crossed the line, it would be exactly twelve hours before they started the race again. So we worked backwards and told the crew their call time would be ten hours after their contestants arrived. Alison and I worked through the night and got just a couple of hours of sleep. We would be up the next morning with the first crews to head off to the starting point.

It was 3:00 a.m. I was feeling kind of shaky, but that quickly changed when we had to start waking up the crew. Some of them were already prepping, some were not. We didn’t know all of their room numbers, so we had to jump behind the registration desk and go through the register to see who was where. Then we walked around the grounds to wake up those who were still asleep and get them going. We also distributed videotapes for the day, along with any paperwork they needed, and got them in the right vans to go to location. We did this for the better part of the night, trying not to wake the other patrons at the castle. We pretty much overran the joint, and in a last ditch apology, I left a $350 tip at the registration desk, thanking them
for putting up with us. I made sure to call Terry in the States when I had a chance, letting him know what had happened at the castle in case there were any issues. And by the time the sun was rising, the crews were off and running, right along with the contestants.

Next stop…Tunisia.

Okay, I’ll admit that I wasn’t quite sure where that was. I knew it was in Africa, but not where. It was the only location I hadn’t looked at on the map. I had a small map of the world with me, and I was able to find it. I hadn’t packed any scarves or anything, so I was worried about what I would do to show respect for the local culture. I did have a lot of black, though, so I figured I could at least wear that while I was there. But first, I had to help the crews get out of France.

I met all the crews at the airport along with the contestants, who were trying to get the tickets they need. In addition to the crews that were following the contestants, we had a second unit crew. This was the crew that caught everything that might have been missed by the other ones. Sort of the “overview” crew that got a chance to see everything
that was happening rather than focusing on one team. This crew had extra gear, including a jib camera (a camera on a small crane that could get those sweeping location shots), which was pretty big, and other extra gear. This was one of my first biggest challenges: getting the crews and all their gear on the plane for the next country. The second unit crew had so much gear that they had to pay for excess baggage. They didn’t have the money for it, and there wasn’t a producer to come up with the funds, so it became my job to negotiate and pay the fees. I actually tried to avoid negotiating the excess baggage fees since I was such a green traveler. I know the guys probably had a better idea than I did about how to get good rates for all the extra gear. I also felt the additional pressure of having Bert hovering over me.

Bert wasn’t in a particularly good mood; after all, the race was not really going as planned, even though it
was
going. And I was sure that he was under constant pressure from the network that I cannot even imagine, so I didn’t want to add to his angst or mine. Once he got his tickets and moved on, I went back to work. After the crew had all boarded the plane, I bought tickets for Alison and me and got on the plane for Tunisia.

Over the course of my three days in France, I’d eaten all of one meal and one bag of chips because I was running around trying to fix things. I wasn’t sure I was going to make it.

I started to fall apart.

CHAPTER 5

COMPLETELY LOST

A
ll countries are different. The people are different, their views are different, and their food is different. So it’s no wonder that each country has its own “scent.” This was true when I arrived in Tunisia. My first impression was that the air was heavy and sweaty and smelled of hot dirt. Of course, it’s a country in the desert, so that made sense. And the heat was heavy. Not humid, but thick, yet surprisingly comfortable for how hot it was. This seemed odd since I was wearing all black. I had on black shoes, black leggings, and a large black sweatshirt with Mickey Mouse on the front. I felt it was the best outfit to wear while I was there.

Most of the crew was already at the hotel, so I was lagging behind. I reached my room and really wanted something to eat, but there wasn’t time. I met up with Alison at our hotel. I had a few minutes to take a quick shower, and then I met up with her in my room. We were still playing catch up on the production. Trying to make things run more smoothly, with better communication, ensuring that we didn’t have any catastrophic problems.

I liked her energy, as mine was already lagging a bit. I would stay up late at night and check in with the office in Los Angeles and fax them info whenever possible. I also tried to keep up with my mounting receipts and expenses, which were stacking up. And then I would have to work with our Los Angeles-based travel agent and get information on all the possible options the contestants could choose when they started traveling. I needed to at least know what options were out there, so it was important for me to get up-to-the-minute information. It was late; I was hungry and tired, and knew I had a lot to do.

Then Alison said something I could not believe: “I could really production manage this whole show.”

She told me this as I was sitting down and organizing myself. I stopped for a moment thinking,
What? Production manage the whole show? There are already two production managers on this show
. I wasn’t sure what she really meant, but she seemed to be saying she could do a better job than what was being done up to this point. I wanted to raise my hand and say, “Hello, this is the production manager in the room with you. If you want my job, you shouldn’t be saying that to my face.” I wasn’t happy at that point. I know that Bert had wanted her to come on board, but I didn’t need someone overtaking my world, plus I thought she was light years better than I was based on what I could see of her work. I was jealous. I started to get paranoid, thinking that I was on the brink of being sent home. But I didn’t say anything. I had one edge over her. She had never worked with Bert before. I had, and no matter how much he might prefer her, he relied on me. At the moment, though, he “favored” her and didn’t pay much attention to me. I was grateful to be under the radar somewhat, but I felt as though my efforts were going unnoticed. Even though there was this unspoken animosity between me and Bert, I still wanted kudos here and there.

Alison and I talked about the next day’s shooting, where the crew was going to be, where we would be, and what we would be doing. We were going to be at the Coliseum in El Jem, and then we’d have a
down day to catch up and rest. I would be there to check in on the contestants at the end of the race.

It was early morning, and I was with the crew who was setting up for the end of this part of the race. The second unit was setting up the jib and lights and whatnot in the Coliseum (one of the most well-preserved Roman Coliseums, quite stunning). It was a big affair, much like a feature film setup with lots of lights, trucks, and people running around to set up the shots. The field producer responsible for Tunisia was one who I had worked with on
Wild Things
. He spoke French, which helped with the foreign crew, as they only spoke French Arabic. I arrived on set and was recruited to help with the transportation, the parking of vehicles, and assessing the crews’ needs. Then I was put into a van and asked to check out all the hotels—there were three—and to make sure that all the crew had rooms and there would be no problems.

The first hotel was for the crew and was relatively close to the Coliseum. The person at the registration desk did not understand a word I was saying, but he let me look at the reservation list. The crew was checked in, and everything was fine. Of course, I couldn’t read anything on the list or understand what the man was saying to me, but I kept repeating
the names and number of rooms, and somehow I got through the information and felt comfortable that there wouldn’t be any problems for the crew. I thought I would take a peek at the rooms and ran into a couple of camera guys who shared one of the rooms. They had just done their laundry and they had strung a rope across the room to hang their “undies” to dry. I asked them how they cleaned their clothes. They said that since they had to carry their clothes it was easier to just take a shower with them on and scrub them down clean and hang them up to dry each night. I was just throwing clothes away and couldn’t imagine showering fully dressed. I had a lot of respect for them. They were tired, hungry and a few other things, but had a great attitude. I just loved the overall attitude of the crew. I said my goodbyes, then I headed over to the place where the contestants were going to be staying, and everything was fine there as well. That hotel was even closer to the Coliseum, about a mile or less. Even though both hotels were so close to the location where we’d be shooting, vans still needed to be assigned to pick up the crew and contestants and bring them there.

The third hotel, where the producers and I would be staying, was thirty kilometers or so away from location. Since I wasn’t familiar with translating kilometers into miles, I figured it was really far.
It was a very silent, long drive since the driver and I didn’t speak the same language. Just a lot of smiling and an occasional pointed finger to something interesting by the side of the road. A couple of times we had to slow down and stop for what looked like military people. The driver would hand them some paperwork and then move on. I figured that once I checked out the last hotel, I could set up my computer and get to work. It was a grand, spacious hotel, and it looked like something out of a lavish 1940s movie. Very cool place. I checked into the hotel and the driver left. I went to my room to set up and got a call.

“You have to come back to the Coliseum right away,” Greg told me frantically. “You have to check in the contestants.” It had taken the better part of the day to look at the hotels, and now I had to rush back to the Coliseum. I raced down to the lobby of the hotel to get my driver, but he had already left. I went to the front desk and said, “Taxi?” The person behind the desk pointed over to a man, and together we went out to his car. I could only give him instructions in English, “I need to go to El Jem, the Coliseum at El Jem.”

“El Jem, okay,” he said. And we were off. We drove for about ten minutes, and then he pulled over.