No Magic Wand

by Margherita Amodeo

In 1992, I joined UNICEF Geneva Office as a communications officer with a focus on child rights. A few hours after taking up my post, I was called in to a meeting with the Chief of Communications and her Deputy. They announced that they had changed my TOR. The new ones spelt Emergency Communications Officer. Did I agree? I did. That was the start of years of living out of a suitcase.

Within days, I was in Tirana, Albania, to help the newly established UNICEF office set up its communications capacity. Albania was in flux after the fall of communism and elections were being prepared. My first memory is the sight of hundreds of bunkers, which looked like igloos, on the drive into Tirana. There were over 170,000 military bunkers countrywide, only a fraction of those which had been planned by the former dictator. My time started when I was told that there was no hotel accommodation available and that I would be staying with an Albanian family. That should be interesting, I thought. They turned out to be a family of four who lived in two rooms. Albanian was the only language spoken and there was no bed for me. I slept on the sofa. When I awoke, I found a small bun and hot coffee on the table. Everybody had disappeared. I washed myself with cold water in the sink, got dressed and left for the office, which happily was within walking distance. I never saw anybody in the family again although I slept on their sofa.

One night, I went to see La Traviata at the Tirana Opera House. It was an opulent theatre which was a remnant of Tirana’s former glorious days. The libretto had been translated into Albanian. But that didn’t diminish my enthusiasm – on the contrary. What impressed me most was Andrei Leka, a 9 year old virtuoso, who played the piano to a degree of brilliance I’d rarely heard. After the performance, I met him and his father, the conductor, as well as the rest of the delightful Leka family. They invited me to visit their home in Durres, a coastal town, an invitation I gladly accepted. I learned that Andrei started piano lessons at the age of four and, soon after, started giving piano recitals in various cities of Albania and on Albanian TV. He also gave four concert tours in Italy organized by the Conservatory of Bari. Young Andrei was impervious to his success. All he cared about was his beloved piano and his piano-playing. He was totally lost in his world of music.

What a delight it was to listen to Andrei play his favourite pieces. His father was keen for Andrei to go to the “west” to get serious professional training and exposure and hoped that UNICEF could help. I asked Mr. Leka to give me a recording of Andrei’s piano-playing to bring back to Geneva. I had an impresario friend, who could be a better judge of Andrei’s gift and prowess and who had the right contacts.

A few days later, I received a video cassette of Andrei’s piano playing. It was totally drowned in kitsch background electronic music. There was no time to produce a professionally recorded cassette before my departure so I opted for a simple amateur recording of Andrei’s playing.

On my return to Geneva, I was thrilled to learn from Leo the impresario that, indeed, Andrei was more than gifted. Leo had submitted his candidacy and the cassette to the organizers of the International Mozart Competition for Young Pianists and Andrei was invited to take part in the next international competition. A flurry of activity followed with requests going back and forth. It all seemed to be settled when I left Geneva on a field mission in Southern Sudan. But, a few days later, I got an urgent satellite call informing me that Andrei’s visa had been rejected. No stone had been left unturned, but it was impossible and it was too late. Andrei could not travel to take part in the competition neither could he hope to participate in the next one because of the age limit.

I was shattered. I was devastated. I found this brilliant young boy in Albania and believed that he stood a good chance of winning a coveted prize and future. I had raised his hopes and those of his family. I hadn’t bargained for this debacle. I learned my lesson good and proper. I also learned that I had to be extremely careful not to give credence to the myth that the UN and UNICEF held a magic wand across national borders.

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