For me, landing my first international job was mind-blowing. I’d always wished that I would find myself a job that would allow me to travel all over the world. Once I realized my dreams had come to fruition, I was baffled. When the itinerary arrived in my email box and I received a call from the agency that I was going to be shooting for a German client in Berlin, I almost screamed. Well, actually, I was more speechless than anything. I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that a client was going to pay me to fly to Berlin, put me up in a nice hotel and cover all of my expenses. The client had even allotted me the luxury of a “rest day” to explore the city! I couldn’t help but smile ear to ear at the news and was looking forward to the adventure of a lifetime.

It was the middle of August and before I knew it, I was en route to Germany. After a 7-hour flight where my mind ran wild with anticipation, I soon realized that landing in a foreign country alone isn’t exactly comforting. It’s exciting, nerve-racking, and terrifying all at the same time. Arriving to someone you know is one thing, but arriving alone is a whole other beast. Luckily for me, most Germans speak at least a little bit of English and are usually happy to point Americans in the right direction. All I could say in German was thank you (“Danke”). It was the one word that I used constantly on my trip. It never hurts to start and end a conversation with thank you, right?

Once I got off of the red-eye in Hamburg, I was given instructions to find the Deuche Bahn station near the airport and board the direct train to Berlin (a 3-hour ride). I was completely overwhelmed by the hustle and bustle of loud German voices and signs that read to me like gibberish. With the help of a young and friendly Mexican tourist, I safely made my way onto the correct train and off at the appropriate station around 10am. I had transferred some of my dollars into euros and was ready to take on Berlin for the remaining hours before my shoot the next morning. The only two hiccups: the hotel didn’t have my reservation on file and I was so anxious about arriving in Berlin that I had not slept a wink on the plane.

After straightening out my reservation with the front desk staff at the hotel and dropping my bags off in my room, it was 11:30am. I knew I had just enough time to jump on a tour bus and see the capital city. I bought a ticket for 15 euros and was on my way. I had my digital camera armed and ready to take in the sights and I’d found the perfect seat on the upper deck of the bus. Mind you, the weather could not have been more perfect – 80 degrees and sunny.  I commended myself on actually using my “rest day” to sightsee. However, that didn’t last long.

The tour guide’s commentary was first spoken in German and then translated into English. On the route: KaDeWe, Checkpoint Charlie, Posterdamer Platz, and Friedrichstraße to name a few. Unfortunately, as the bus slowly made it’s way to each stop and the tour guide droned on in his monotonous voice, I was rocked and lulled into a deep sleep. I tried my best to fight it – and managed to jump up, snap a picture, and sit back down every time the bus came to sharp halt – but do I remember anything? No. Did the children sitting across from me laugh hysterically at me every time I repeated this routine? Yes. So much for taking in Berlin! I woke up at the original start point (a few blocks from my hotel) two and a half hours later. I was a zombie. I had no choice but to crash at the hotel. It was 2pm and as soon as my head hit the pillow, I wasn’t awake again until the Art Director phoned me at 8:45pm.

I was angry at myself for not seeing Berlin during the day, so I decided that at the very least I should grab dinner across the street before resuming into my comma-like state. I managed to sit quietly in the square surrounding the restaurant, read my favorite book at the time (Sophie Kinsella’s “Remember Me?”), and consume the most delicious German meal I could have imagined. I’ve never seen anything like it. For 10 euros, I was given 2 sausages, a large piece of ham, a pork chop, and enough Sauerkraut to feed a small army – all served in a warm skillet. The way the grease and spices coated my mouth was divine. I still day dream about that dish today and wish I could find the equivalent somewhere in New York.

So, I went to bed with a full stomach and a healthy amount of anxiety about my first international shoot. The makeup artist/hairstylist, Desmond, had alerted me that he would be coming to my hotel room at 5am to put in my hair extensions and apply foundation and cover up so that we’d already be halfway done by the time we arrived on set.

The next morning was a complete blur. In my groggy 5am state of mind, I could barely keep my eyes open as Desmond furiously clipped my extensions onto my natural hair and slathered on just the right amount of base makeup to make my skin tone perfectly even. Immediately after he finished, we rushed down to the hotel lobby, where the photographer, wardrobe stylist, and assistants were downing coffee and smoking cigs by the work van. I politely hopped in and we were on our way to the shoot location in a hurry (it was a 45-minute drive from the hotel).

As we pulled up to a large cluster of vacant buildings in the middle of nowhere, I tried not to look surprised. The photographer, Sandra, told me that the buildings used to be part of a sanatorium, which included a well-known insane asylum. This infirmary had been abandoned for decades and was thought to be haunted. This was NOT what I wanted to hear.

When we arrived at the mental health wing, the windows were boarded up and there was a thick heavy chain wrapped around the doors. This was where we would be shooting. Desmond set up a small table outside in which to place all of his hairdryers, curling irons, brushes, and bags of lipsticks and eye shadows. I couldn’t help but be frightened as the power flickered and random gusts of wind blew through the sturdy brick building.

The floors were covered in dust and paint chips, but the structure itself was magnificent. It looked old and battered and yet extremely refined. I understood exactly why the client had wanted to shoot here, but I couldn’t deny that it was also creepy in every sense of the word. The temperature would change at a moments notice and opened doors creaked and cried as the wind randomly blew through. But, I knew that I had to be brave and professional. I wanted nothing more than to make a great impression and to prove to the client that I could be the caliber of model that I so desired to be.

The shoot day was long and tiring. I began by slipping into my first outfit in the work van (which, mind you, was parked in a field full of dead grass and leaves). The natural light kept moving and therefore Sandra kept changing our location over and over again. Desmond had no choice but to attempt to tackle the long extensions tightly clipped into my short bob and had to make sure they looked as natural as possible. The stylist also made sure that each garment was perfectly pinned and fitted around my waist, hips, and bust. On top of that, I tried to keep my lips closed and moist (I have a tendency to eat lip gloss at a worryingly fast pace). I also learned quickly that the Germans have a fierce work ethic and can go hours without food, water, or a bathroom break. This also meant that I had to be on my game the entire time I was shooting, especially because I was the only model on set. Therefore, I had to adapt quickly. Although I was nervous, I had to appear strong. I forced myself to recall all of the skills I had acquired in the previous few months and made sure to give Sandra as many angled poses and expressions as I possibly could. It felt like I was slow dancing at a fancy gala and attempting to woo a prince in my direction.

All in all, the pictures turned out beautifully because of the magical lighting, Sanda’s meticulous eye, and Desmond’s determination to ensure that my hair and makeup looked flawless. We managed to finish all 15 full looks from the time I began (10am) until the time I finished for the day (8pm). The next day of shooting was exactly the same.

After 2 days of intense shooting with a crew that knew no physical boundaries, I was exhausted, content, and overly excited simultaneously. I knew that I had done my best and that all of the crew’s hard work had paid off. I also knew this was the beginning of a new career journey for me and I was looking forward to where it would take me.

The finished product? Better than I could have imagined. I landed my first catalog cover.