Working Conditions Working hours/day: 14 Meal breaks: 1 Tea/coffee breaks: 0 Rests: All the time. Toilet facilities: 5 portaloos/600 people Washing facilities: none Pay: 6,000 ptas ($31.65) /day.

¡Acción! The main quality that seems to be needed in an extra is patience, and lots of it. Because of the numbers of people involved, everything takes an age to do - getting changed, having your hair done, preparing the shots... Having no watch (expressly forbidden, for period accuracy), I did not know how late it was when director and crew were ready to begin the first shot, but hours had passed and the sun was high and hot. I was chatting to an Argentinian gentleman of aristocratic bearing named Félix (we agreed that Margaret Thatcher and Galtieri were both cabrones). A coordinator picked us out to take up a position next to a fruit stall and two pretty but very young Chinese girls were told to take a position behind us. We introduced ourselves, and in next to no time the girls had decided that they were to be our mistresses (in the film, that is - when the camera stopped rolling, they ran off to chatter to their numerous cousins). With the girls writing our own private script, we became two illicit couples - it was almost exciting. Of course, such is the non-importance of the extra that no-one noticed our improvised sub-plot.

On the ground, although the director is king, two groups vie for control: the production team and the director's assistants. We extras also had to obey the coordinators, most of whom were from the casting agency (the people who were going to pay us, after all). In other words, in terms of pecking order, no-one is further down than an extra, not even the actual chickens underfoot. It must have been an assistant director who first addressed us with the megaphone, telling us to walk in such a direction, at such a pace, looking in such a direction. The Chinese interpreter presumably said the same, but seemed more irritated about the whole affair. "¡Acción!" (pronounced "Akthion!) was sounded for the initial walk-through, and we ambled unsteadily around, more or less as instructed, with handcarts, rickshaws and vintage cars passing through the crowd and live geese and chickens running around. Back to our marks. Now do the same, but faster, we were told, and "¡Acción!" again. Incense smoke drifted over the set. I have read that rockets went off, but I was too distracted or intent to notice. We did the scene again, and again, I do not know how many times. Then to a different part of the street for a different shot. And that, essentially, is the job. Each scene required a different kind of walk, a stroll, a determined circulation or a parade in single file. Once or twice, I even got to ride in a rickshaw, which I thought it only polite to help push back to its mark, though I noticed not all the Europeans were so willing.

An adequate but not especially appealing picnic lunch at least broke up the day. Not even then was there much mingling between Chinese and Europeans, who remained in their own bands, like Sharks and Jets. In our case, this was not because of identification with the role, but because, at every opportunity, the Chinese family members sought each other out, or found apparently long-lost relatives - they were treating it as a family day out, like a wedding or a baptism.

A long, long day. As the day wore on, the heat and tiredness took their toll. I have read that thirty-odd takes of nine scenes were shot during the day, but it seemed like much more. Chinese and Europeans alike became progressively less enthusiastic and less disciplined. On hearing "back to your marks," we sauntered to somewhere near where we had started from, or not, almost at will. I have often said that it is no coincidence that it was the Spaniards who invented anarchy as a political ideology; add the difficulty of controlling five hundred Chinese or Orientals of all ages and each take must have been different - a surprising number of the more elderly Chinese did not understand a word of Spanish and some of the children were too young to comprehend a direct order properly. The coordinators dashing about with walkie-talkies were remarkably good-humoured about the whole business and only once did I see one actually lose his temper and, inexcusably, physically shove one of the Chinese extras into line. If I had been closer, I would have thumped him (the coordinator, not the extra).

Filming continued for as long as there was light. Unfortunately for us, in summer in Spain, this is very late indeed. The last take of the last scene did not end until nearly nine, and there was a near stampede towards the changing room - six hundred extras of various nationalities, all tired and thinking of home, after fourteen hours work, the result of which will take up a mere five minutes of screen time. In spite of the long hours, it had been an enjoyable day for me, for whom it was a novel experience. But I certainly would not have done it for the money. The extra's financial reward, including wardrobe call, came to seven thousand pesetas ($37).