The boss du jour wasn’t overly thrilled that Gaz, Joe and I had been invited to make a film about The Salvation Army’s work in the Republic of Georgia. Nor was he overjoyed that it had all been agreed before his arrival in the department. I think the reality was that he was miffed he hadn’t been invited and would have to hold the fort back in the UK. He therefore wanted every nanosecond of the visit to be fully accounted for, and for a detailed storyboard of the film to be prepared before getting on the plane.

I’m not averse to putting together a storyboard in the right context, but my experience from previous forays suggested this would be an unwise course of action. So, after a few unsuccessful attempts at describing the folly, I agreed to create the document if I could be released for a recce visit prior to filming. That was declined as anticipated, so I put a few paragraphs of explanation together about likely topics in each location, and the itinerary which had been constructed by Ray and Carelle, the regional leaders in Georgia.

And so to Tbilisi. The crossroads of Europe and Asia, a major city on the Silk Road and capital of a country that (apart from a few high profile terrorist incidents) I really knew nothing about. The regional leaders had shown great wisdom in devising an ambitious but achievable schedule which began with a barbecue beside a lake. Boss du jour had muttered unfavourably about this, declaring that such jollity should be ‘in your own time’. But being able to meet the team members in a relaxed social setting before dashing around the country with lights and cameras proved to be an ideal starting point for the project. We now knew who was who, they understood who we were and what we hoped to achieve, and we were able to jot down some story ideas we could follow up during the week. And culturally, eating together, splashing around in the water and trying to retain some dignity while joining in with the volleyball was precisely the right thing to do. Also, there were hammocks!

Even after this getting-to-know-you session, there would still be surprises though. The biggest of these was while filming at one of the corps (churches) in central Tbilisi a few days later. Major Ray suggested that it might be worthwhile sitting down to do a longer-form interview with Temo Galustian, the leader there. In truth, I did think twice about this, as we already had plenty of footage and we were running a little late. But I also trusted Ray’s judgment, having worked with him previously.

So we found a quietish bench outside, set up the kit with Gaz and Joe filming and me taking the role of interviewer. Over the next few minutes came some of the most powerful TV we’ve created. Temo shared his testimony of being in the wrong crowd while growing up in a rough part of Tbilisi. A story of crime, taunting the police, gang culture and eventual incarceration – at one point in the same prison as his dad. But then the redemption arc – forgiveness, acceptance, the love of God (and the love of a caring Christian woman who became his wife and co-leader in the church). And, to bring the piece full circle, the commencement of prison visitation ministry. Prisoner turned prison chaplain.

I just hoped that the story would work just as powerfully on screen as it had affected me in person. We shot some extra footage, including of Temo’s Salvation Army tattoo, which covers up a former gang identification mark in the same place.

This could not have been storyboarded. Temo had not told his story in full like this before, it wouldn’t have worked nearly so well as a small part of the overall documentary – it needed time and space and sensitivity. I’m also convinced that the time spent at the lakeside together without knowing the first thing about Temo’s background really helped – I would probably have subconsciously treated the subject differently had I come to it without first having got to know Temo as a man.

Thanks Temo for sharing your story and being the faithful man of God you are. And thank you Ray and Carelle for the way you helped create that spirit of openness and sharing. (And also thank you to Rezo, who drove us about a million miles in a van with rapidly deteriorating aircon, always with a smile.)