It hasn’t been easy adjusting to life with people so much older than me. I couldn’t rush around in the same way that I normally do, it worries most older people. I would have to spend more time speaking to people, as they do love to talk. One stereotype, then, in which my opinion has not changed.

I also had to learn not talk about too "modern" things and certainly not presume everyone understood even the most basic things my basic generation takes for granted, like websites and text messages. I also had to learn not to express my opinion too much on certain subjects as I needed to maintain relationships with them.

People like Diana and the Royal Family and societal beliefs like religion, environmental issues and racism have different standings in people of my age, compared to the residents of Lovat Fields. I had to remember that they have grown up in a different world, and their teachings and way they deal with life comes from a different time. Of course viewpoints are going to be different - as life was different for them.

And then there is music and films. Essentially these were no go conversation barriers as my likes and tastes are of a much more modern nature to theirs, where I rarely found any common ground. I will get one resident to like listening to Aphex Twin and enjoy watching the finer points of Sokurov’s Russian Ark if it kills me!

Food is another area where the majority of residents and I differ greatly. I could rarely cook dinner for them and in return rarely eat in their apartments or in the village restaurant with them. For them a great dinner involves eating at lunch time; for a start this is alien to me and I have no real appetite at this time. The meal would consist of something like cottage pie or fish and chips. For me these are basic foodstuffs, and a little bland. I guess much of the younger generations have a more continental palette with a greater diversity of flavours. Once again though this all comes down to what you grow up with and what you are used to. If you are not exposed to it how do you know any different?

As my time in the village comes to an end, I feel sad to be leaving my friends and fellow residents behind, despite the wide gulfs that exist between our lives. What will I miss? I will miss the advice I can get from their vast experience, I will miss learning about what life used to be like, I will miss having a cup of tea or a pint and just chewing the fat, I will miss seeing how their lives develop on a day to day basis; ultimately I will miss their company.

I often wonder who has grown up in the best time, them or me. I don’t think there is an answer really; both have their benefits and negatives. You just make the most of what you have been given but maybe my generation has been given more. Unfortunately, if you are given greater opportunities, what comes with them are higher expectations and demands on your life.

When I go back to visit from now on I know the changes in them will be great. Even though they do not lead massively busy lives, old age doesn’t wait for anybody and so much can change in just one week, let alone a month. Some I won’t get to see again as they will have passed away. Although sad, it is an inevitable fact of life. My time here has certainly hardened me to death. Health is such a factor of life in old age.

I hope I have brought something to their lives. I think having someone more youthful around them to interact with is a good thing and maybe I have taught them something of life for my generation. I owe them a massive thank you for allowing me into their lives, as it has been a great experience. All that is left to say is farewell Lovat Fields - maybe I will see you again in 28 years!

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As The Open University programme Open Minds suggested, it's hard to generalise about older people's approach to technology - some embrace it enthusiastically. It's all part of communication in a digital age.

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About the author

Bart grew up on the Isle of Sheppey, Kent. After studying film at University he joined BBC Bristol in 2004. Since then he has been a researcher on a number of prime time documentaries. In this series of blogs, Bart is sharing his personal experiences. His views do not necessarily reflect those of The Open University or the BBC.

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One of the hardest jobs of filming observational documentaries is making sure you are in the right place at the right time. Unlike dramas and archive documentaries things cannot be planned and scripted in the same way. It is real life we are filming so we have to react to what happens rather than dictate it.

With so many people living in this village, all of them old needless to say, staying on top of their lives proved quite a challenge. Being the senior side of the spectrum of life not many had mobile phones, such a beneficial way of staying in touch with people these days. E-mail is also another system of communication that was not an option as many did not have e-mail addresses and those that did possess them did not check them to the same degree the younger generation do. They certainly struggled to grasp the fact I could check mine on my mobile.

All this meant we had to return to good old fashioned conversation and this is partly the reason why it was so good to live there. Although conversations would take longer to garner the information required I found it refreshing to meet and greet people face-to-face, something that is getting rarer and rarer in modern society. Besides when you did speak to a resident on a mobile it would normally involve both of you speaking at high volume as they struggled to grasp how to hold these new found devices.

We need to be across 30-odd people’s lives during the filming period making sure we don’t miss any developments but also, be on top of all other developments in the village in case any new story lines develop. Of course it is inevitable that we would miss things, naturally people would forget to inform us of things and that is not just those with Alzheimers.

In these situations you need to film around these events so you get the information in a way that is palatable to the viewer. Once I saw a resident one day but not the next. I visited him the day after to discover his cat had passed away which was of huge significance to his story. In these cases you are extremely annoyed but have to remember there is nothing you can do and just do the best you can.

During some days we would just walk around apartments and the village having conversations with residents, sitting in the café in the day and the bar at night. Once we knew what people were featuring we could schedule in specific filming events for the week, avoiding clashes, and in the free time just film events unfolding. Although you can plan, events and situations would arise unexpectedly or things would happen simultaneously. Someone might just casually mention they are on their way to an event or - in the extreme - might suddenly fall ill and go to hospital.

At these times you have to make judgment calls as to what you need to film which is relevant to the story of the person’s life you are trying to tell. Ultimately it comes down to priorities and sometimes you make the right call and others you don’t. The trick is to make the right calls more often than not.

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About the author

Bart grew up on the Isle of Sheppey, Kent. After studying film at University he joined BBC Bristol in 2004. Since then he has been a researcher on a number of prime time documentaries. In this series of blogs, Bart is sharing his personal experiences. His views do not necessarily reflect those of The Open University or the BBC.

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When spending eight months working in one location with one group of people, well give or take a few changes, making sure you achieve the right work-friendship balance is important, not only for your contributors but for yourself as well.

Before moving into a retirement village where every resident is over 55, the majority being in their 70s, I have to say I didn’t think I would make any good friends, where we had any common interests. I have been surprised by the variety of people there and although we talk about different things to my friends and me, electronic drone music not being high up on their agenda, the conversations are still interesting and to be honest it is a privilege to have access to all this history. Obviously we don’t do the same things that I would normally do when socialising, expectations are different and nights not quite so late, but it is an insight into what you can and can’t do in later life.

Over 300 people live in Lovat Fields Retirement Village, so it is inevitable there are going to be some people that I get along with very well. The fact there are 300 people though throws up its own problems. In an enclosed space, such as this retirement village, word spreads very fast and this is something you are particularly aware of very quickly. This means you have to be very wary of what you say at all times, even after a pint or two. If you said anything out of turn about anyone, you can guarantee they will find out about it very soon. As we are filming observational documentaries you are never sure who might be involved in the stories, so you need to make sure everyone is onboard with the programme all the time.

When working and living with people, boundaries need to be set within yourself and it is important that these are rarely crossed. For example, people you know who have a disability might ask you to help lift them into bed and you need to be aware that by trying to help them you may cause them harm and in today’s litigation culture, face a lawsuit. Sometimes, as much as you want to help them, it is safer to call the carers who are trained in these things, no matter the contributor’s grievances about it just being put to bed.

Recently, I have faced a very tough situation with one of our contributors we have been filming for the whole period. Over the last few weeks he has started to deteriorate steadily. He was getting thinner, not eating and generally starting to appear more distant and vague. I would try and encourage him to eat and occasionally make him some food but obviously I still had a job to do so couldn’t sit and ‘nurse’ him all day. It is in these situations where it becomes tough, because you just want to look after them, but you still have your job to do.

The contributor in question has a history of cancer and had an appointment with a consultant. We wanted to film this, so, we filmed around the hospital visit and sat with him and waited while he had his appointment. On coming out he didn’t seem to understand what had been said to him and at this point I realised something was really not right, so upon returning to the village, asked them to look into a care package to keep an eye on him. I kept visiting through the week to check on him and he wasn’t getting any better, so at his next appointment the following week, I went with him again but this time, sat with him in the appointment so someone knew what was being said.

The news was not good at all so I got him home and into bed and relayed the information to the relevant people so further steps could be taken for his care. The other problem was that I was soon to move out of the village, so was genuinely worried about who would be looking out for him in our absence. At times like this it is hard to maintain a professional relationship where you don’t get too involved in interfering with people’s lives, but as a friend and a human being I had a duty of care to this person. Some things are more important than work.

As we have been approaching the end of our time here in Lovat Fields, we have needed to get people used to the fact that we were not going to be around as much as before. Over the last couple of months we have been a less visible presence in the village and this coupled with our repeatedly telling them that we will soon be departing eases the impact of our departure.

Withdrawing from these people’s lives does fill you with a sense of sadness and guilt, but it comes with the territory of the job, so it becomes something that happens once a year. I will still come back to visit a number of people in the village in my spare time, when I get a chance, not only out of duty but because I want to stay in touch with the people I have forged relationships with.

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Explore grief, loss - and how society deals with death on The Open University course Death and Dying.

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About the author

Bart grew up on the Isle of Sheppey, Kent. After studying film at University he joined BBC Bristol in 2004. Since then he has been a researcher on a number of prime time documentaries. In this series of blogs, Bart is sharing his personal experiences. His views do not necessarily reflect those of The Open University or the BBC.

Subscribe to Bart Corpe's posts