Steve Dorst

I’ve been to Colombia three times in the past few years for film shoots. The country is gorgeous, with a fascinating history, and welcoming people. But producing a quality video there requires some planning. Here are 15 things you need to think about when producing a video in Colombia.

1. No visa required

If you’re a US citizen, you don’t need a visas if you’re staying less than 60 days, for tourism or business. Here’s updated information from the US State Department’s Bureau of Consular Affairs.

2. Vaccines?

If you’re a US citizen, you don’t need to show proof of any vaccines upon entry. In terms of what the CDC recommends you have before you go, check out this article. You probably have them all, but better safe than sorry. In major cities, you’re good. If you’re shooting in the rainforest or villages, it’s worth it to pay attention and get the shots.

FYI, this is the latest video I made, in early 2019, in Medellin:

3. Customs & permits

As a small crew, we didn’t bother with a permit, but definitely inquire with your unit producer. It all depends where you’re going to film and if you’ll attract attention. Upon arrival at the airports of Bogota and Medellin, we had an easy time getting through customs with our video gear.

4. To Uber or not to Uber?

Technically, Uber is illegal in Colombia, but everybody uses it, and Uber claims 2 million users and almost 90,000 drivers. That said, my Uber driver at Medellin’s International Airport made me sit in the front seat so it looked like we were friends. The benefit: I got to adjust the radio (see #14, reggaeton, below)! Uber, of course, was cheaper.

5. Definitely hire a fixer

A local video production company is not required (during our shoot in Morocco recently, it was mandatory). But having a fixer with us was key for each of these three shoots. It enabled me to focus on directing and shooting and not have to think about traffic, schedules, logistics, etc. And even though I speak solid Spanish, by the end of the day my brain was tired and it was a relief to have a fixer just fixing stuff and simply focus on the creative.

6. Spanish!

Brush up on your Spanish. Yes, you can navigate the big cities with English, but outside the big cities, few people speak English. Besides, you’ll have a much better time and learn a lot more if you have at least basic Spanish. Say “dale” early and often: it means, “cool” or “ok” and keeps conversational momentum going. Just a little Spanish got me to play a little soccer with this guy:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8YJ88aSQ1F0

7. Money stuff

The Colombian Peso is currently about 3,330 pesos to the dollar, which makes the math pretty easy! A lunch of 10,000 pesos is $3. The country is not as cheap as it used to be, since the economy continues to grow, but outside the major cities, it is a bargain. ATMs are ubiquitous. To avoid getting hit by transaction fees, try one of these checking accounts. People don’t regularly tip. In most restaurants, if you want to leave 50 cents, you’re good. High-end restaurants may expect or tack on a 10% propina.

8. Drones are cool

I had no problems flying my drone all over Medellin. Curious kids, but no overzealous police. Check out this site for some general drone laws in the country.

9. Safety is good

It’s safe. The people are nice. Anthony Bourdain said it best while filming an episode for Parts Unknown in 2013: “If you want to find bad people in Colombia, you can surely find them, as you could in New York or Los Angeles. But nowhere have my crew and I been treated better or with more kindness and generosity. I’d bring my family on vacation there in a heartbeat. And hope to soon. As I said before: Colombians are proud. Let them show you what they are proud of.” I couldn’t agree more. I felt comfortable. In the cities, there’s a big middle class and life and culture has a recognizable rhythm.

10. Diversity in people, climate, experiences

Colombia is incredibly diverse. Its cities are the most modern on the continent. Its rainforest is some of the most untouched (Darién). The climate zones include tropical rainforests, steppes, deserts, mountain climates, and savannas. Incredibly, it is the second-most biodiverse country in the world, after Brazil. I took a puddle-jumper from Medellin (population 2.5 million) to Capurgana, a remote, car-free village on the Caribbean coast. Then hiked to Panama the next day. From a modern, cosmopolitan place to another where my ride from the airport was in horse-drawn carriage. That’s diversity.

11. Eat all the food. Drink all the drink

The food is worth exploring! In the big cities, there’s a foodie renaissance going on. That being said, a lot of the typical stuff can be relatively bland, since culturally the cuisine uses far less spice than, say, Indian or Middle Eastern food. So, it’s worth it to dig a bit and find the specialties of each region. In cities, the water is safe to drink. For me, the fruit was a standout: I tried mamoncillo, cherimoya, lulo and guanabana. (And yes, drink the coffee. My favorite coffee shop in Medellin was Pergamino)

12. Cell phone service

AT&T offered the $10/day International Day Pass that allows you to use your phone normally (no limits), so I did that. If you’re planning on staying more than a week or so, it would be cost-effective to buy a new SIM card.

13. Adapting your plugs

Americans are in luck. The plugs and sockets are of type A and B, same as in the US. I recommend packing a 3-to-2 prong adapter just in case type-B sockets aren’t available. In Colombia the standard voltage is 110 V and the frequency is 60 Hz. You don’t need a voltage converter. Charge your equipment with peace of mind.

14. Get on the reggaeton

Colombia is the world capital of reggaeton. Give it a shot if you don’t already know it. Some of the best reggaeton artists in the world hail from Colombia, including J. Balvin, Karol G, and Maluma.

15. Save on airfare

Get email alerts about cheap flights leaving from your favorite airports at Scott’s Cheap Flights. The premium service costs $49/year, but if you buy one ticket every few years, you’ve saved money. I’m amazed by some of the prices I see.

If you have ideas, leave me a comment here. I hope you have a great film shoot in Colombia!

Feature Photo by Julian Florez on Unsplash

I just returned from a film shoot in Morocco. The country is beautiful, with a rich history, and accessible culture. But making a professional video there takes some doing. Here are 16 tips to help you get the job done.

1. No vaccines or visas required

If you’re a US citizen, you don’t need a visas if you’re staying fewer than 90 days. A fun fact: in 1777, the Kingdom of Morocco became the first country in the world to recognize United States independence, only a year and a half after the U.S. Declaration of Independence was issued. We’re friends.

2. Definitely hire a fixer

You need a local video production company. There’s no way around this. I worked with Casablanca-based Tswera Productions. They did a great job. I plan on writing a longer piece about the positive experience.

3. Nabbing that elusive “authorization to film”

You’re going to need a letter from the company/organization you’re working for. Then your local Moroccan video production company will go to the Centre Cinématographique Morocain to get your permit. This process will take a while. You’ll provide a lot of info, including the CVs of your crew, list of equipment, list of interviews, interview questions, distribution plans, etc. You’ll be asked to specify the exact dates and locations of your shooting schedule, so be ready to be specific.

4. The police are trustworthy

I’ve been in a lot of countries where the police stress you out, but Moroccan police were great. They were ever-present. But several locals emphasized to me that the country had suffered far fewer terrorist bombings than their neighbors (or Paris and Madrid for that matter). Yes, the police stopped us every time we were filming outside, but they accepted our permits and let us continue. While driving throughout the country, we were stopped at multiple roadblocks, but they never hassled us. The roadblocks were there to stop the bad guys.

5. Sorry, no drones

There was a time that you could fly a drone freely in Morocco, but those days are long gone. We didn’t manage to get permission. Apparently, there’s a process, but you have to name the exact GPS coordinates, day and time, which leads me to this next one …

6. Stock footage resources

If you can’t get all the (drone) footage you want, there are some good Morocco stock footage resources.

7. Adapting your plugs

You can use the same plugs you use in Europe (type C) and especially France (type F)

8. Brush up on that French!

This is a polyglot nation! Moroccan Arabic is the most widespread, with French and Berber right behind. In the north, a lot of people will speak Spanish. Some in more touristy spots speak English, but don’t count on it. My team spoke French, so that worked out well for us.

9. Fridays are holy days

When you’re making your shooting schedule, keep in mind that Friday is the holy day and many people go to the mosque. It’s their Sunday.

10. Clothes to wear

For b-roll outside, we wore shorts and t-shirts because it can get hot. For most interviews, we wore long pants, business casual. For interviews with government officials, we wore suits. The women on our team wore long pants and covered their shoulders.

11. Money: Haggling is a sport

The Moroccan currency is the dirham and is about 10X1 to the dollar. ATMs abound. People prefer cash. At most markets, the prices aren’t posted. Vendors didn’t mark up drinks and food for me, but for most everything else they name a price that is 3x or more what you should pay. Best strategy: go with a local and don’t do the haggling yourself. Second-best: treat it as a game, don’t take anything personally, remember that nobody is your friend despite the Oscar-winning performances, and always be willing to walk away.

12. Mosques are verboten

If you want to see a mosque in Morocco, you’re out of luck unless you’re Muslim. The sole exception is the Hassan II Mosque in Casablanca. It currently is the fifth-largest mosque in the world and has the second-tallest minaret. Visit, then watch the sunset from the promenade. Maybe play some soccer or take some tea with the locals. People are welcoming here.

13. Beer is (sometimes) hard to get

After a long day of filming in the hot sun, there’s nothing better than a beer … unless you’re in Morocco. Alcohol isn’t available on patios or rooftops. And a lot of establishments are dry. Hotels are a good bet, so if you’re hankering for a drink be sure to ask before you get settled in. Or better yet, be like the locals and drink mint tea: it’s a ritual and a pick-me-up. I was partial to the fruit juices, especially anything with avocado in it.

14. The food is insanely good

Early in my career I worked with an American cameraman who’s go-to meal every day in Cameroon was grilled chicken and fries. It worked for him, because he wanted to stay healthy and do his job. But when I’m in a new place, I like to try new things. In Morocco, you’re in luck. First, look for tagine, pastilla, and couscous. Tagine is the name of the clay cooking pot and the amazing dish that includes spices, vegetables and either beef, chicken, or lamb. Pastilla is a sweet and savory pie that’s filled with meet, with a layer of sugar, ground almond, and cinnamon. Couscous is only cooked on Fridays to celebrate holy day.

15. Cell phone service

In Morocco, my AT&T did not offer the $10/day International Day Pass that allows you to use your phone normally (and not have to stress out about your data). So I had to buy a $60 1GB Passport that I exhausted in three days and then I upgraded to the $120 3GB Passport … on the other hand, my crew had Verizon and they had the day pass. Easy peasy. We all used WhatsApp to communicate with each other.

16. What to film?

Like in most countries, be smart and don’t film government installations or policemen. Our film permit didn’t give us carte blanche: the private security guards at several private buildings, including an outdoor mall in Casablanca and the marina in Tangier, didn’t let us film. And when photographing people, be cool and ask permission.

Well, hopefully a few of these tips will help you as you head out to make a great video in Morocco. Good luck!

Wow, what fun! I really didn’t expect to have such a blast leading a photography workshop for local Afghan staff of a USAID project.

I was already on location to make some capacity building videos about a successful USDA project, CBCMP, that is improving how the Afghan Ministry of Agriculture functions. That’s a typical assignment for me: making videos for international development organizations. (Check out the YouTube playlist with the final videos; and my blog post).

But the photography is a rare treat. In addition to the workshop, I visited five companies to take photos of their work.

ABADE is a $105 million USAID project that offers technical assistance and business advisory services to Afghan companies on the rise. It stands for Assistance in Building Afghanistan by Developing Enterprises.

Twelve staff joined, from as far away as Herat and Mazar. Most work in Kabul. All of them have other primary jobs—from program coordinators to monitors to engineers. But they had one thing in common: they wanted to learn how to take better photos (event organized by the incomparable Che Cuspero, ABADE’s Communications Manager).

The questions were great. I stayed practical. Most would be sharing the project’s only camera—the Canon 650D—so our conversation revolved around how to better use this camera. We covered camera fundamentals—ISO, aperture, and shutter speed. Then we talked about how to approach a scene better prepared, with a checklist of what to shoot. Finally, we analyzed a bunch of photos together—which showed how much the group had learned.

Thanks everybody for the interactive session! Great to meet you Yama, Bibidil, Elham, Kabul, Abid, Ibrahim, Mochtar, Boya, Wais, Abdullah, Toor, Obaid, and Nasir.

Stay in touch! And keep taking photos!

Beirut is a complete blast. The people are dynamic, the food crazy good, and in a week I’m all over the country, from the Syrian border in the north to close to Israel in the south. Here’s five things I learned during my film shoot in Lebanon.

1. Beirut’s got an image problem

When I told friends I was going to Beirut, all conversations and Facebook comments were variations on “be safe, be careful.” Some mentioned Hezbollah. Most focused on the Syrian civil war, which has already sent almost a million refugees into Lebanon (a small country of only 4 million that is ill-equipped to welcome so many people.)

Turns out, concerns aren’t overblown. The night I arrive, police stop me for more than an hour near my hotel. They don’t like my camera equipment (it doesn’t help that the hotel is catty-corner to Parliament!) My taxi driver has a soccer ball, so we juggle on the cobblestones while Mr. Police speaks, at length, on his iPhone. No dice. Ultimately, my hosts book me in a less sensitive accommodation. Aaaah, sweet sleep.

2. Dynamic and cool, the Lebanese carry on

The first day of shooting goes according to plan.

That literally is the most beautiful sentence you can write if you’re a filmmaker abroad.

“Yes, there are bombs . . . If you die, you die.”

This is 100% due to my team in Beirut, the all-Lebanese staff of the USAID-funded Lebanese Investment in Microfinance project. All logistics, scheduling, transport, and access issues are worked out in advance. Thanks Khalil, Carla, Mahmoud, Moussa, Liliane!

Here’s a few things I hear throughout the day—the likes of which don’t float around the local Whole Foods back home: “We had our own civil war for 20 years, and we didn’t all go running into other countries!” . . . “The refugees get a stipend at the border. Then they accept lower pay in our jobs. Our young men can’t compete!” . . . “Yes, there are bombs. But we go out almost every night: if you die, you die.”

Day one’s a wrap. I’m impressed at the work ethic and efficiency of my team. I’m also surprised by how sanguine people remain despite the dicey security situation.

Dynamic and cool, the Lebanese carry on.

3. Fishing is an endurance sport

Jet lag sucks.

I don’t get to sleep until past 3am. I hate my 4am wake-up call. I despise the 4:45am pick-up. It’s still pitch black as we drive up the coast to the tiny fishing village of El Beddaoui, in Chekka.

What I don’t know is that we’re less than an hour from the Syrian border. And minutes from the sectarian violence in Tripoli—where we’ll go before lunch.

Rabih is a fisherman. He’s been on the water since 3am setting his nets. He bought his used boat and nets with a microfinance loan. Today, he work for himself and not for the man. It’s changed his family’s life, and I’m here to tell that story.

It’s the pre-dawn blue hour as I step on the boat. Here, at the dock, the water is serene, but soon in the open Mediterranean, the waves knock me around. I’m filming with the Canon 5D Mark 3, with the 16-35mm lens on a Manfrotto monopod—small, lightweight, great in low light.

“Rabih can’t stop smiling. After all, it’s his boat, his nets, and he’s making a better living now.”

As the sun rises, Rabih stands heroically above the horizon. The work is grueling, as he pulls up the thousands of yards of nets by hand, fish entwined, balled up in baskets on deck.

After two hours at sea, I shoot some b-roll around town, rejoin Rabih at the fish market in Tripoli (no issues), hang out with his family at home, then return to port where he’s prepping to head out to sea again.

I’m exhausted, but Rabih can’t stop smiling. After all, it’s his boat, his nets, and he’s making a better living now.

4. Shawarma & Robert Downey, Jr. go together

My second day of filming I spend on a cattle farm in Bekaa with Samir. He’s bought 10 heads of cattle over several years thanks to three successively larger microfinance loans, and expanded his business considerably.

Working around all that cattle dung inspired a terrible hunger, so Khalil recommends one of his favorites: Barbar Shawarma, which is located in Corniche, a seaside promenade in Beirut’s central district.

First, Khalil. This guy is really the project’s M&E Coordinator, but this week, he’s my extremely capable Unit Producer and translator. He gets along extremely well with everybody we work with across the country, and we never have a problem.

And as the week unfolds, he’s also acting food critic and cinema aficionado, since he can’t stop reciting the closing scene in Avengers, where Robert Downey, Jr.’s Iron Man crashes to Earth, opens his weary eyes, and says, “You ever tried Shawarma? There’s a shawarma joint about two blocks from here. I don’t know what it is, but I wanna try it.” (Back story on that revised ending on Entertainment Weekly).

Well, I try Khalil’s favorite shawarma in shawarma’s birthplace, and it’s great!

5. Byblos is irresistibly photogenic

The rest of the film shoot takes me to five of Lebanon’s six Governorates (or provinces). I’m deep in Hezbollah country, where billboards of the Ayatollah Khomeini share real estate with ads for Pepsi and designer watches. And by Friday, I have more than enough quality footage to cut four short films.

Saturday is a day off. What’s brilliant is that long-time friends Stefano and Margherita live and work in Tyre, about an hour south. They pick me up and we drive up the coast to Byblos. It’s a respite, a quiet tourist town, and irresistibly photogenic. You’d think on my day off, I wouldn’t touch a camera, but the light was beautiful and I took 50+ photos . . . on my iPhone! Oh, and Byblos is a UNESCO world heritage site.

It’s a perfect way to close out a great week, where I feel good about the footage I captured and learned a lot about the culture and people of Lebanon.

Egypt, for me at least, is not one of those places you can parachute in and feel at home. It’s intense, with its own pronounced contours and customs.

A Washington, DC-based organization hired me to go to Cairo and film for four days. As DP and director, I’d pick up a unit producer and driver in country, (When I’m back home, I’ll write and edit a short documentary film).

Here’s a 1-minute clip from some stuff I shot on day 3 on a nature preserve. Check out the underwater clips!

Day 1 starts early. After a couple interviews, it gets fun. Khalil runs the agribusiness unit of a large company, so I decide to put us on motorbikes, winding through the vineyards on the way to his staff. Anytime you can ride on the back of a motorcycle, filming, and get paid for it, it’s good times . . . What a blast! Here’s a quick clip:

I decide to do Khalil’s interview in the greenhouse, since it’s quieter and there’s some shade. I get set up, using my Litepanel LED, then wait a bit until the golden hour is just right. Here’s a still (no color grading):

Anytime I can complete three interviews and some creative b-roll on day 1 in a new country, it feels great. This rosy feeling of accomplishment takes a hit, however, when my “unit producer” informs me she needs to “spend some time in the office” on day 2. She’ll be leaving me with the driver for beauty shots Tuesday around Cairo.

Anytime you can ride on the back of a motorcycle, filming, and get paid for it, it’s good times . . . What a blast!

This is well and good, except I speak no Arabic and Ahmed, my driver, speaks about 57 words of English.

Now, I’ve shot city b-roll in some crazy places before, from Harare to Baku and Manila to Mexico City, but nothing compares to Cairo. Old lady drivers make Manhattan cabbies look like Zen Buddhists. It’s manic. Somehow things function, but it’s tight, chaotic, and extraordinarily loud.

After a lengthy argument, my unit producer relents—only to call at 10:30pm. She’s not coming; driver to pick me up at 7am.

I feel abandoned, but there’s work to be done. This is what it’s like to be an independent documentary filmmaker — you move forward, you solve problems, you do it all: shoot, run audio, direct . . . and I was ready to learn some Arabic along the way!

The next morning, Ahmed and I head to the pyramids. Without a unit producer, I wing it. Fortunately, Ahmed knows a guy who knows a guy. Because it is virtually impossible (and prohibitively expensive) to bring film equipment in the main tourist gate, I should get a horse and go around back where I can film the pyramids from a hilltop in the desert.

Good plan, right? Except the stable owner tries to get me to name the first price. Having lived in Cameroon—where people approach haggling with the vigor of Olympic athletes—I knew enough to wait.

“2,400 Egyptian pounds,” he offers. I laugh out loud. Stable owner wants $350. The next 20 minutes is a legendary back-and-forth where I feign disinterest, act like I’m walking away, and eventually settle on about $64. I immediately have this sinking feeling in my stomach that I could have gotten it for much cheaper, but I can’t haggle the whole day. I have a job to do.

A fence encircles the entire Giza pyramid area. It is reportedly 22 kilometers long. It probably helps the state capture more tourist dollars, because everybody has to enter the main gate, paying some 60 pounds.

Skirting the pyramid fence from the slum side is a start contrast. Dilapidated storefronts advertise horse tours or all-terrain vehicles. I pass a dead horse, a cemetery. Then we enter the desert:

My guide, Ali, complains how tourism is way down since the revolution. He has a winning smile, and fortunately for me, a background in TV. When we finally reach the distant hilltop, and I capture the footage I want, Ali takes my camera and directs me with the confidence of a commercial director:

What saves the rest of day 2 is Ahmed, the driver. Every time I want to get out of the van and film, he makes it happen. Alternately, he charms security guards, tips people to watch our van, and finagles our way behind locked gates. Thank you Ahmed! You are a lifesaver.

At Muhammad Ali Mosque at sunset, Ahmed and I capture a stunning silhouette of this historic building:

Day 3 promises adventure. We’re accompanying the CEO of the company to an innovative pilot project where they’re raising seabass in a saline lake, Al Fayyum. The drive is only 150 kilometers, but because we start in central Cairo, it takes four hours.

Despite the 95-degree heat, this is my favorite day. Any time you can film on a wooden rowboat and underwater with a GoPro on a monopod, it’s cool. The clip posted up top is from this day.

The rest of the afternoon we take our time heading back to Cairo. At golden hour, we come across a family harvesting wheat. While my unit producer (back with us today) stays in the van on her phone, Ahmed jumps out with me. He spreads some small tips around to the grandfather and the children just to say “thanks,” as I film the family in action:

We continue down a rural road. The light is so nice, I jump out. Soon, outgoing young men gather around. They’re curious. Ahmed explains what I’m up to, and they enjoy hamming it up for the camera:

Day 4, I do an interview, spend some time with the company, and then spend an afternoon getting broll around the city. At sunset, Ahmed invites me for “koshari.” It’s yummy, and a fitting end to an intense week.

Because my flight departs at 4:35am, I awake at 1am, and Ahmed picks me up at 1:30. What we don’t count on is a big accident on a bridge, and I’m dangerously close to missing my flight. We’re going nowhere. And what’s not helping is a sea of gawkers who arrive on motorbikes, park them on the only functioning lane, and start directing traffic of their own accord. Where’s the police? Where’s emergency services?  . . . At a snail’s pace, we creep forward to the scene, which has the vibe of a democracy demonstration more than a traffic accident. At that moment, Ahmed spies an opening. An ambulance breaks free from the scrum. Ahmed reacts. We are hot on its tail, and race through the city at breakneck speed.

Eventually, even the ambulance is going too slow. Ahmed, with commentary, leaves the ambulance in his dust!

I make my flight! And head back to Washington, D.C. Thanks my friend . . .