Internship

Around my third or forth day here, I went into the office of English-language newspaper, The Daily Star to ask for a job or internship. I was given the editor-in-chief’s email address and told to ask him.

Two e-mails later, my friend John happened to ask who I was e-mailing as he’d met a few people who work there and written a piece for them once. “Hanna Aubar,” I said, pulling out the business card the receptionist handwrote his address on.

His last name is definitely “Anbar.” I soon sent an e-mail to the right person. He replied the next day, telling me to call his secretary (whom he did not name) to setup an appointment. She, Jojette, told me she’d talk to him when he came into the office in the next few hours and call me back.

Two days later, I called her. She told me to come in Monday (Feb. 28, we’re almost in real time now, friends) for an interview.

I put on a belt, tucked in my shirt and headed off.

I had to wait a few minutes in the small lobby outside the newsroom for Mayssem, the woman conducting the interview. She introduced herself, looked like she was about to take me back to where she’d just come from and then suggested we just sit there and talk for a minute.

She knew nothing about me except my name. Mr. Anbar hadn’t forwarded her my resume. I gave her a brief run-down of my experience. She asked what I was interested in, and said she’d have me start today.

I went into the newsroom, and started reading stories on the news wire (a compilation of everything from the Associated Press, Reuters and Agences France Presse) and the English-language Web site of Beirut’s An-Nahar.

Mayssem had me convert a press release into a brief and told me to go to a press conference the next day.

That was easy. (I’m pretty sure they’re not paying me.)