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The first time we went to Pragya’s with Nutan to introduce ourselves and to tell them about our project, Pragya pointed to a cozy little bed with carefully placed stuffed animals on top of it and told me, “This is our bed.” 

The three of them, mom, Pragya and her eight year old little sister, Praynena, all sleep together. I remember how I used to LOVE sleeping with my mom when my dad was traveling. It was the B-E-S-T Best–as good as Saturday cartoons–if not better. I felt so bonded with my mom when curling up with her in bed. I have heard this same sentiment from other pre-teen girls I have taught throughout the years. I have a theory that it might be a ’universal’.

So, leaving Pragya’s after that first visit, I knew that to get to their story, a sleepover was in order.

The problem with this was, Scott does not fit in that house. He doesn’t fit size wise–the house is tiny and our lens wide–and he is a man. The three of them clearly adore him, but you cannot deny, he is a different gender and therefore brings a different vibe to the house. I was the only one going to this slumber party, meaning I became instant First Shooter for Pragya’s story.

A little personal Nonfiction Media history here. Scott is the Big Picture guy. He is good at the visuals–really good. He is also the tech guy. He knows our equipment backwards and forwards. I want to know our cameras, gadgets, knobs, cords and cables this well because I love people and their stories, and I want to tell them up right. However–I know this sounds lame and girly (and I am actually cringing myself at this…truth(?)–I am inherently not that interested in our equipment.  

There. I said it.

I so hope I am not compared to the President of Harvard regarding his infamous comment about women and science–I know there are women who can drop major science on video/camera equipment. (We have been emailing some of them regulary for advice.)  I just happen not to be one of them.

I haven’t even read Scott’s recent (epic) techie blog entry.  I am logistics and editing gal. I know what needs to happen next in our schedule, remember that we have to eat at some point, and I can Final Cut Pro a kick-ass story.  It is a pretty even split, work-wise.

Practically, it has worked well for our business. This does not mean, however, that this divide does not cause tension. I feel that my job is less glamorous. Also, Just because I am not interested in the gear, doesn’t mean I don’t want to be good at using it.

It is complicated, see, I want to be visual/camera/tech gal too. However, the responsibility of this freaks me out as much as I want to do it. But…the more I don’t do it, the more I don’t get better and more confident at it. Scott wants to be a better editor as well. But this is easier to remedy. I get sore editing wrists. He takes over at the editing bay. If I happen not to like something he does, I change it so I like it.

There is a bit more pressure with collecting footage: When you forget to turn on the XLR mic… you don’t get the sound. I happen to know that it really sucks when this happens. So, I WANT the video camera. I DON’T WANT the video camera. I WANT THE CAMERA. It scares me.

So, anyway, the sleepover at Pragya’s…

I knew I had to do it. Even if this meant that the footage gathering was ALL on me. In fact, I didn’t even much think about it. I practiced setting up beforehand and worked up notes with Scott about things not to forget, and really I wasn’t too nervous.

I would love to report that all went amazingly and that I got Born Into Brothels meets Iraq in Fragments footage. I didn’t.

I spent the night lying in bed listening to pack of dogs barking in the distance… slapping bugs and ticking off the things I had missed getting into my camera.

• Pragya’s little sister, Praynena, asking Pragya how to spell “Barbie”.
• The electricity coming back on after hours of darkness and Praynena jumping up and saying in English, “The lights are on. It’s my birthday.”
• Praynena tiredly and sweetly asking her mom if there is a cure for blindness.
• Mom turning off the T.V. after a long day. (I was readjusting the tripod to make it even–AGGHH!)
• Had the camera rolling the second they were stirring to wake up, but it was 5 am and there was NO LIGHT, (not even on ‘high gain’ which I was taught only to turn on if you find Osama Bin Laden in his cave.)

 However, this is what I got:

• Pragya helping her sister getting out of her uniform and into her play clothes after school in pretty bedroom light.
• Pragya being quiet, sitting in the kitchen, recovering froma long day at school.
• Mom and daughter talking about their day (don’t know what they are saying yet. Sending the tape home with the transcriber today and I betcha it is sweet.)
• The lights going out and mom picking through rice by electric lantern.
• Family of women slowly waking up. (Again, can’t wait to know what they are saying as they rub the sleep out of their eyes.)
• Little Sister watching big sister as she does 5:30am karate in a class of mostly boys bathed in morning, mosquito filled light.
• It is hard to watch  my own footage. For me, it is full of “should haves”.
• As a filmmaker it was a roller coaster. As just a regular person spending the night at some really nice peoples’ house, it was a total fulfilling blast.

I loved being with the girls. They are both REALLY funny…goofy. I love that.

I loved eating Dal Bhaat (traditional Nepali food-rice, curry, lentils and a fried egg). It was so good. They were so excited that I liked chiles. I poured them on. Manita, Pragya’s mom, had made them into this yummy chutney. SO GOOD!

I loved hanging out with Manita. She reminds me of my sister-in-law, Denise. Super strong, determined, feminine, a  hardcore self-made woman. We couldn’t really speak to each other much, but it was one of those deals where it didn’t really matter. We just smiled a lot and knew. 

The next morning, Manita and I ended up walking about 3 miles together in the muggiest, sweatiest of heat because there was a transportation strike.

We walked 30 minutes out from her house (I supposed to be filming her getting on a tuk tuk to work) to the big road only to find it full of bicycles and people walking. I had three heavy bags with me. I got sun burnt and rashed, but eventually found a bus in the next town over.

Later, Manita called Nutan to be sure I had made it home.

The sleepover? It was good in a lot of ways. Really good.

You might even see some of what I got in the film we’re making.