Work

I’m now officially a freelancer. And as the word suggests, freelancers have a lot of free time.

Or maybe not, because it only seems that way.

Every spare minute and hour I spend here at home, a little cog starts grinding away in my head. “You have to find work, you have to find work, you have to find work.” Oh yeah. I really do.

So I decided to go ahead and do just that.

All the things required to do that don’t seem anything like work in the traditional sense. Sending emails, calling people, writing an article, taking photos to go with it, translating—all things I didn’t do until recently. And when I did happen to be working on them now and then, it was late at night. Now I can just do it during the day.

Because my main job was—and still is—reporting. But the broadcaster is taking its time on this. I’ve worked for the Abendschau from time to time before; it’s Berlin’s news program that’s been around for over 50 years and has become a veritable institution that not only considers everyone super important, but actually is. After 27 years, the program’s “old” boss has now retired, and there’s a new one at the helm. A 35-year-old woman with two small children: a choice I can only endorse. She just wants to get a thorough grasp of the editorial team first—a very professional approach—before bringing in new freelancers.

And so: for the time being, she’s “loaned” me out to the little sister station. Because a German broadcaster wouldn’t be a German broadcaster if it didn’t produce a hundred thousand other different news programs. I started working on one of them yesterday and today.

What immediately strikes me: the more local the newsroom, the nicer the people. Something that seems to hold true for the Netherlands, but certainly also for Germany. Germans are good at keeping their distance; but today I was addressed several times as “Du” and “Ulrike” instead of “Sie” and “Frau Nagel.” I caught myself making a joke, and even put on a silly voice in front of a nice editor. Just like that. Very special. Such a relaxed atmosphere already on day 2—to be honest, I hadn’t expected it.

In the meantime, I’ve driven kilometers for my report.

Because Berlin is big.

But the surrounding province—Brandenburg—is many times larger. My goal: to film FC Energie Cottbus soccer players during a photo shoot at Tropical Islands, Europe’s largest tropical water park (according to them). Located in Krausnick. Where? Yeah, just look it up on the map—I had to do that too.

In the middle of nowhere, there’s suddenly a huge hall. Originally designed as a workshop to build zeppelins, it was bought by a Malaysian investor after a failed launch. He turned it into a fake island with lots of water and blue photo backdrops featuring little clouds.

A beautiful backdrop for capturing overworked soccer players’ knees.

With sweat pouring down my forehead, back, and legs, I ran after the photographer for an hour and a half. Afterward, I drove back to the newsroom in Potsdam in 50 minutes, had my equipment loaded in a flash, and edited the report together with an editor within an hour and a half. Because editing it myself—for that, I still need to learn the technical side of things here at the newsroom first.

And when I was done and standing outside? That’s when I realized again: yes, this is work as it’s meant to be. For a TV journalist. For a camjo.

Tomorrow I’ll be back at the computer. At home. In my slippers. A translation is waiting for me. And a text that still needs to be edited. Emails. Phone calls. Loose ends I need to tie up. And a cup of coffee from my own machine.

That’s work, too—I just still have to get used to it a bit.

It’s really nice being a freelancer.