The pianist who welcomes Ukrainian refugees in Poland

In Medyka, a small Polish town on the border with Ukraine, it is nearly dark.

A drone periodically appears in the clear sky.

However, in the rare moments of silence, when the buzz of the crowd dies down, it's not hard to hear the drone of some fighter patrolling the airspace.

Since the beginning of the Russian invasion of Ukraine, thousands of people arrive every day in this town with low houses and narrow streets, waiting to get on a bus bound for Przemysl, another Polish town that in recent weeks has become in the epicenter of the reception of refugees.

Above Medyka, the cloudless sky burns with the colors of sunset.

The countryside and hills surrounding the towns are dyed red and orange.

The temperatures are frigid.

A rosy-cheeked two-year-old boy chases soap bubbles as they fly past a hot tea kiosk.

“Imagine there is no heaven, it's easy if you try, no hell below”, are the first lines of

, the well-known lyrics of the John Lennon song, and a volunteer hums it while carrying a box full of sweets and candies .

In a square behind the hundreds of stalls, next to a bonfire lit by volunteers to combat the cold, a man plays the notes of this song on a piano, which over the years has become a hymn of peace and a world without conflict.

It is Davide Martello, a German pianist of Italian origin.

He plays despite the cold and the curious who approach him.

He then thanks everyone and pauses.

“I was born and raised in Germany, but my parents are Sicilians, from Caltanissetta.

I quit my hairdressing job and decided to go out and play music,” he says.

“I have given some concerts in support of people demonstrating for peace.

Of course, playing for those fleeing from a war is something very different”.

PHOTO GALLERY

Music for the reception of Ukrainian refugees

“It's very cold,” a volunteer tells Mattia (*), from Switzerland, as he tries to warm himself by a stove.

“You should have been last week, it was even worse!

It was very cold and there was snow”, recalls the boy as he rubs his hands together to get warm.

Not far away, an old woman is holding her dog in her arms and waiting for someone.

“I came here from Switzerland”, says the young volunteer from the Canton of Ticino.

“Instead of staying at home smoking and listening to jazz, I decided to come help.

Why not make your contribution?

Among the posts set up by NGOs that have come from all over the world to offer their solidarity to the displaced, dozens of people continue to enter Polish territory on foot.

Some, however, turn around.

At the pedestrian border crossing, a man returns to Ukraine.

He cries, while a woman watches until she disappears behind a fence.

“I speak several languages ​​and have lived in Poland for four years,” explains Antonio, a Venezuelan who works as an interpreter for a news team for an Arab network.

"I told myself I couldn't stay home while all these people are trying to flee the war," he confesses, opening his arms.

Beside her, a girl wrapped in her pink scarf sips hot chocolate and walks past another eating cotton candy.

She looks calm.

A Ukrainian boy, on a cold night on the border between Poland and Ukraine, waits for a bus to take him to the Przemyśl train station or the Tesko Shopping Center, converted into a first reception center. Giacomo Sini

This transfer has a soundtrack.

Martello built his own piano for himself.

Together with his black cat and using a caravan, he didn't think about it for a minute weeks ago to bring his music to Poland.

"It's better than sitting at home with your arms crossed, isn't it?" admits the pianist.

“A while ago I interpreted with a girl.

The mother was delighted”, he says smiling.

“And how can I forget the time I did it in front of the Lviv station?

There were a lot of people there,” he says looking up at the sky.

“It was very emotional.

At one point, an old woman put a blanket around her shoulders for me.

She was humming the notes from

.

She snowed.

In the end she even brought me an apple”, she concludes.

“Music is important.

It can change things”, he insists, rushing back to his peculiar instrument.

A girl, dressed in her red jacket, is moved to tears as the notes of Leonard Cohen's

warm the air around her.

“I pray every day that my family decides to join me here,” says Sofya, unable to hold back her tears.

A woman next to her, Venetta, tries to comfort her.

“I am a bit Bulgarian and a bit Ukrainian.

My father emigrated from Bulgaria to the United States and I was born there,” says the energetic woman, smiling.

“Tomorrow I will dress up as Wonder Woman and hand out candy.

It is a moment of relaxation to help refugees”, explains Venetta, hugging Sofya.

“My house is in the Donetsk region.

The war has destroyed everything.

There is nothing left,” continues Sofya.

"Escape.

I know four languages, so I thought I could help whoever needed it by being an interpreter.”

still plays in the air

.

newspaper

in 2012, declared it to be “enthusiastic life-affirming”

The shadows of the night envelop Medyka.

The lights of the small street lamps placed there to illuminate the darkness are on.

Hundreds of people continue to arrive at the pedestrian border crossing.

Slowly, women, children and the elderly queue for a bus to Przemysl, a Polish city that has seen millions of refugees pass through since the war began.

"I'm Italian, but I've been living in England for a long time," says Cesare(*), one of the many people offering help.

"With our organization we are dedicated above all to building hospitals and schools in Asia," explains the volunteer, while lighting a camping stove.

“Here we are making pancakes.

It is a simple gesture in such a difficult time.

Do you want one?” he asks a Ukrainian guy, pouring a ladle of batter into a frying pan.

“Our house was destroyed by the bombs.

We have nothing left,” says Ivan (*), a man in his 40s who has fled Kharkiv on a permit.

“Now we are going to Stuttgart.

We hope to start a better life”, says his wife Natalyia (*), taking her daughter in her arms as she walks with difficulty.

It is late, there is a starry night and even the moon shines in the sky.

The buses are still loaded with people who, once they arrive at the Przemysl station, can either sleep there or wait for a train or bus to Warsaw or somewhere else in Europe.

In an instant, the entire area is once again filled with the notes

of John Lennon 's

At least here, in Medyka, the sound of music seems to override the noise of the bombs, which now seem like only a distant echo.

(*) Names without surnames at the request of the interviewees.

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