About three weeks later, a man showed up. He said, "I'm from the Ministry of Information, Mr Diop." He sent his car and said he would like to talk to me. This was the head of broadcasting, Alasane Diop, who later on, they killed. But anyhow, heck of a nice guy. He himself was an engineer, and he said, "I'm happy that you're here. We are now ready to work together." You see, they watched me for these three weeks and saw what I was doing. And there was a need for me, because the French had left Radio Conakry with nothing. There was only one other technician who spoke very little English--a couple of words. They had two broken-down Ampexes. That's all they had.

So first, I helped get the two Ampexes going, and they started putting some programs on the air. And then the minister said, "You know, in the mornings; you can come early, because in the morning, I have all my staff gather." This was their morning staff meeting with the Radio Director, the Program Director and all his information people. I'd go there and sit next to him and watch them do all their staff meeting every day. And they took a liking to me.

Then the minister said, "You know, we have never really done a collection. There are places that we really haven't recorded any music at all. I'm going to assign my best technician." And then he says, "There's an old man here who is a father of griots, the famous Diabate--Sidiki Diabate. He's going to be with you all the time. He knows all the musicians. He used to be a government official in most of the regions. Sidiki Diabate was the father of Papa Diabate, the guitar player. And his brother, Sekou "Docteur" Diabate is a guitar player also.

So we started going from region to region making recordings. I recorded the famous Orchestra Beyla. They were just being formed in Beyla. Sekou Diabate was there. Then they called themselves Orchestra Bembeya. But when they were first getting it together, that was in Beyla. Then we went all the way down to Nzerekore and did a lot of folk and traditional music there, and we went up in Kankan. Anyhow, we recorded all these various ivory tusk horn groups, Kisidugu, little guitar groups and all that.

And Sekou Toure took a big interest in this. And of course, after our first trip, Diabate took me and he says, "Sekou Toure is very much interested in what we're doing and he wants to help." So he gave his little plane, his aeroplane, private plane. He said, "Any time you want to go to a region, my plane is there." With a Russian pilot. Again, at that time, the Russians were actually in charge. I mean, they were running everything. But Sekou Toure used to tell me personally. "You know," he said, "It's only the American press that calls me a communist. I'm not. I'm an Africanist." And he wouldn't let the Russians go into the radio station. That was a no-no for them. He made sure. And he let me. And the Russians were going crazy again. Unbelievable, you know. Here's this American over there going traveling around in the interior of the country and everything. So I was having a ball.

And Kandia Kouyate was the lead singer, and we helped to form the first National Folkloric Orchestra. We worked together. I started teaching the singers and the musicians what microphones were all about and how to use them, where to stand and all that. And we got a couple of more technicians and showed them how to set up microphones for vocals, where to put the microphones for the instruments and the drums so that we'd get a good sound. And with Diabate, we gave a list of names of the best musicians that we had located throughout the country. Then Sekou Toure would give the order. He would bring those musicians. Wherever we found a good singer or a guitar player, he would bring them in. They got a place to live and clothes. And they had to come every day and rehearse. That was their job. They were getting paid now as musicians for the first time. So Sekou Toure actually did that for the country. But he had a very important mission also. The purpose behind all this, he said, "I want people in this country to think that they are no longer a Fula, or a Mandinka, or a Malinke, or a Sousou---They are all Guinean." He said, "We will do this with the music." And there were all these nationalistic songs. Of course, a lot of them were singing about him."

Leo eventually developed a friendly relationship with Sekou Toure. When Toure tried to stop foreign music from being played on the radio, Leo had the nerve to joke with the president that the VOA would be very happy about this because now everybody would stop listening to Radio Guinea and started listening to the Voice of America. "He just smiled," recalled Leo. He probably knew it was the truth." It was a move Toure couldn't really carry through. The radio stopped playing Western music and all the orchestras began to compose songs on their own folkloric themes. "I remember Bembeya when I went to Beyla, they were practicing a number called Wassoulou, an old Malinke hunter's song. You can feel it. It's real folkloric and yet it was arranged for an orchestra. I like it. I think it was a good move." At the same time, after he left Guinea, Leo saw what happened as Sekou Toure became more and more paranoid and violent. Looking back, he has no illusions about Toure.