Welfare Programs Ussr

Pierre Garenne, a 33-year-old pastry chef, worries that the generous French welfare system may weigh his country down when it competes in the streamlined European Community after 1992. Yet, Garenne does not want French benefits reduced too much in order to restore a competitive edge. "What frightens me," he said, "is that we might fall into the American system afterward. Of that, I'm afraid."

Pierre Garenne, a 33-year-old pastry chef, worries that the generous French welfare system may weigh his country down when it competes in the streamlined European Community after 1992. Yet, Garenne does not want French benefits reduced too much in order to restore a competitive edge. "What frightens me," he said, "is that we might fall into the American system afterward. Of that, I'm afraid."

Elena Gareliv, 88, spooned tomato slices onto her plate as she described to a stranger her days before the Soviet Union's first soup kitchen opened its doors. "My monthly pension normally lasted two weeks. The rest of the time I could only afford bread and tea," she said, drawing knowing nods from the three women sitting around her. "And then, even when I could buy sausage, it was difficult to prepare a meal. I live alone and need a cane, you see."

The Soviet government, allocating $26 billion in additional funds to help the victims of the Chernobyl nuclear disaster four years ago, acknowledged on Sunday that thousands upon thousands of people are still living in areas dangerously contaminated by radioactive fallout, and even more are eating food grown in those areas.

The Soviet government, allocating $26 billion in additional funds to help the victims of the Chernobyl nuclear disaster four years ago, acknowledged on Sunday that thousands upon thousands of people are still living in areas dangerously contaminated by radioactive fallout, and even more are eating food grown in those areas.

It is nearly 1 a.m. at the railroad station, and 14-year-old Galina Simbirskaya is getting ready to spend the night. She puts down her book and stretches out on a tattered brown blanket on the concrete floor. " Spakoni nochi , Mama ," she says. "Good night." Her mother, Valentina, 45, is lying with her face turned to the wall, trying to tune out announcements about arrivals and departures, trying to forget for a few hours the reality of her daily life as one of the bomzhi .

Millions of Soviet citizens live on the bread line with totally inadequate wages or pensions, the Communist Party newspaper Pravda reported Friday. "We write very rarely about poor people--pensioners, labor veterans and invalids living on low incomes, about young families living from hand to mouth--yet there are very many of them in our country," the newspaper said. Fifteen million people in the Soviet Union live on a pension of less than $97 a month, it added.

It is nearly 1 a.m. at the railroad station, and 14-year-old Galina Simbirskaya is getting ready to spend the night. She puts down her book and stretches out on a tattered brown blanket on the concrete floor. " Spakoni nochi , Mama ," she says. "Good night." Her mother, Valentina, 45, is lying with her face turned to the wall, trying to tune out announcements about arrivals and departures, trying to forget for a few hours the reality of her daily life as one of the bomzhi .

Elena Gareliv, 88, spooned tomato slices onto her plate as she described to a stranger her days before the Soviet Union's first soup kitchen opened its doors. "My monthly pension normally lasted two weeks. The rest of the time I could only afford bread and tea," she said, drawing knowing nods from the three women sitting around her. "And then, even when I could buy sausage, it was difficult to prepare a meal. I live alone and need a cane, you see."

Millions of Soviet citizens live on the bread line with totally inadequate wages or pensions, the Communist Party newspaper Pravda reported Friday. "We write very rarely about poor people--pensioners, labor veterans and invalids living on low incomes, about young families living from hand to mouth--yet there are very many of them in our country," the newspaper said. Fifteen million people in the Soviet Union live on a pension of less than $97 a month, it added.