RUMANIA: Playboy into Statesman

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Not only are Rumania's immediate neighbors sources of apprehension. The Nazis still have their eyes on Rumania and, although Russia's swift move into southern Poland kept Germany from Rumania's boundary, less than two months ago Nazi agents in Rumania assassinated Premier Armand Calinescu and attempted a coup in Bucharest. Meantime, Russia continues to stir up Communist agitation among Rumanian peasants. Meantime, Britain and France—who have guaranteed Rumania's borders and own a big part of her oil wells—compete against the German trade agreement for a greater share of Rumanian produce.

Paris of the East. Small wonder it is that the lobbies and bar of Bucharest's famed Athénée Palace swarm night & day with as conniving a group of spies, agents, buyers, diplomats, eavesdropping newsmen as ever inhabited a Grand Hotel. On the twisting Calea Victoriei—less than 20 years ago a thoroughfare distinguished for its dust in summer and its mud in winter—intriguing Frenchmen rub shoulders with scheming Germans, plotting Britons encounter counterplotting Russians.

No city is more nervous, but no European capital is today gayer or more frivolous. With no blackouts, no curfews, no ration cards to worry about, Bucharest's 900,000 sophisticated, easygoing, sensuous citizens are at last earning the title which the city long ago assumed but never quite deserved—"Paris of the East." The Nippon bar, hangout of lonely, pleasure-bent males, and the Colorado, more elegant and respectable cabaret, keep open nightly until 5:30 a.m. On the less naughty side of Bucharest serious politicians relax at famed Café Capsa. The big, swanky outdoor terrace of the Cercul Militar (Army Club), facing the Calea Victoriei, is filled nightly with resplendently uniformed officers and smartly turned-out women. Caviar, juicy steaks, pastries oozing with whipped cream—all verboten in many a war-nervous area—can be ordered to the tune of a gypsy orchestra. In the shops can be bought everything from U. S.-made toothpaste to the finest wines from the King's own vineyards.

With warring nations bidding for her produce, Bucharest's stockmarket is booming as rarely before. Rumania's currency is controlled, but a Black Bourse operates full-blast and the Bucharest visitor with valuta (foreign exchange) in his pocket has no trouble at all in getting in touch with men quite willing to give him two or three times the "official" rate of exchange. (Example: officially there are 140 leis to $1; on the Black Bourse $1 will bring as high as 400.) The jewel mart is doing a land-office business with those Polish aristocrats who could bring only such small objects along as they could carry in their hands and pockets.

Meanwhile, Bucharest is having such a face-lifting that the city's Polish refugees, fresh from Warsaw, wondered if Nazi bombers had not paid it a visit. The Calea Victoriei is half boarded up as the street's smaller twists are being straightened out. A wide boulevard is being cut through the old Jewish bazaar quarter. The River Dambovitsa, long an open sewer dividing the city, is being covered over by a broad thoroughfare.