It all began in 2004 with a recruitment/job advertisement I came across in the newspaper. Of course, it was in the “Deșteptarea” newspaper. I don’t remember exactly how it was worded, but I know it was about hiring reporters, editors, and TV show producers for the Deșteptarea Media Trust. And since the world behind the cameras and newspapers had always fascinated me, I thought, “Why not give it a try?” So, I submitted my CV and… the waiting began. Would I be called for an interview or not? After a few days, I received the call inviting me for an interview and a test.
The interview was nothing like I expected. In the meeting room, the candidates were greeted by several people. My nerves peaked. Around the conference table were those who would later place their trust in me and shape me as a journalist: Gheorghe Băltățescu – the editor-in-chief of Deșteptarea newspaper at the time (and my mentor in print journalism), Constantin Dorian Pocovnicu – the media director of the Deșteptarea Media Trust, and Raluca Kiriakopulu – a TV presenter. The questions came quickly, and my nerves gradually faded. I don’t know how long the interview lasted, but I was asked to do an “on-camera test.” After a period of practice both at the newspaper and at the local TV station “ALFA TV,” I began working… on TV.
Lili Adochiței – the general producer of the TV station – taught me the difference between print and audiovisual journalism, and the importance of images and the details captured both by the camera and the senses of a field reporter. She was also the one who encouraged me and supported me when I struggled to coherently report an event. It happened on a cold and rainy autumn day, shortly after I was hired. I was the “on-duty reporter” when the phone rang, and we were informed of a serious traffic accident on Calea Romanului.
Together with Daniel Ciorcilă – the cameraman on duty, we got into the car and headed to the accident scene. For me, the sight was difficult to describe. A minibus and a car were mangled, and the rescue crews were pulling out the victims. On the damp asphalt, from which steam was rising, lay several deceased people. One of their mobile phones was ringing frantically.
The sirens of police cars and ambulances were deafening. The crowd had gathered, recounting various versions of what had just happened. I was paralyzed with fear. “What do I do?”, “How do I approach this?”, “What should I write?”, “What shots should I ask Daniel to take?”. I couldn’t move or speak. Then I heard Daniel (who had many years of experience) telling me: “Plug the microphone into the camera and follow me.” I was in a daze. I don’t remember what happened next. I found myself back in the newsroom, trying to write something. Anything. The letters seemed completely foreign, and the keyboard… utterly unapproachable. That’s when Lili stepped in.
She got me to tell her everything that had happened, everything I had seen or felt. She reminded me that a reporter must be impartial, and personal opinions have no place in a news report. Essentially, we wrote that report together (or, rather, she wrote most of it). At the end, she said: “Okay. Now you’ve had your baptism.” And indeed, I had. Many more tragic events followed that I had to cover: the floods in Valea Muntelui, fires, other accidents, the collapse of the Șerbănești bridge.
My on-screen debut was another challenge I overcame. It was a bet with myself. More than that, I couldn’t disappoint those who had placed their trust in me. Dănuț Dudu was one of those people, and he told me every day that I could do it and that I had to try. My first appearance was on “The Week in Review.”
A pre-recorded news bulletin aired over the weekend, recounting the week’s most important events. Looking back, I think my first appearance was a real disaster: camera fright, poor diction, fear of the teleprompter. At the time, though, it felt like a real victory. And it was Dănuț Dudu who told me: “You did great. You’ll see, from now on it’ll keep getting better.” That confidence pushed me forward. To have my own show five days a week and to present live news bulletins.
And I can’t forget the days when I was sad or overly stressed, and my colleague from the radio, Florin Ștefănescu, would dedicate the song: “My Mornings Are Blue” to me. (Thank you, Florin! I still listen to that song when my mornings don’t go the way I’d like them to.)
A kaleidoscope of emotions and experiences. That’s how I can define that period of my life. New things every day. New people, information, events, challenges. Growth.
And, as I used to end my shows: “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m Alexandra Simion-Zaharia, and I wish you a wonderful day ahead.”
