The Coolidge examiner., 1937-05-20

TN ROUMANIA, East and West
are so interviewer. it is diff
cult to see where one leaves
off and the other begins.
Perhaps the countless invasions
which have swept her land may
partly account for this strange
blending of Orient and Occident.
Each invader, whether he be Ro-
man, Hun, Pole, or Turk, has left
his strong imprint on the nature
of the people.
Though Paris may be France, Bu-
charest is hardly Roumania. This
capital has almost nothing in COM
mon with the country. 1t is gay,
cosmopolitan city, often, if not apt
ly, called the Little Paris of the
Balkans.
It's streets are crowded with
smartly dressed women, officers re-
splendent in their colorful uniforms
and gold braid, and men and wom-
en- of the foreign colonies, who con-
trast strikingly with peasants in ma
tive dresses and gvpsies in rags
and tatters. It's restaurants n d
coffeehouses, always famous for
good food, are abuZz with the latest
political rumors and gossip.
The opening, in the autumn, of
parliament by the king is a bril-
liant event. For several blocks and
for hours, the palace guards in their
bright blue uniforms, high patent
leather jack boots, shining helmets
with white horsehair plumes, stand
smartly at attention until the men,
bers of parliament, the diplomatic
corps, the army generals, and the
king have passed.
The great moments are the ar
rival and departure of the king, in
an open landau. Footmen in satin
breeches, long coats of brocade,
and three-cornered hats, and a
ferocious coachman cracking his
whip at six milk-white or coal-black
stations, on whose backs ride pos
tilions in bright red hunting cos
tunes, add to the striking medieval
picture.
You find it fun in winter to hire
an open sleigh drawn by horses
bedecked with bells and red rib
bons, and driven by coachman in
a high fur caciula (cachoula), tall
astrakhan cap, long velvet coat, and
wide girdle of metal.
The wide avenue leading up to
the Arc de Triomphe, past pretty
little race course and the golf links
of the Country club is a miniature
suggestion of the Champs Elysees
in the French capital. Many stately
palaces and homes line its streets.
Roumania has gone modern in her
new houses and apartments.
Good Music, Many Churches.
There is much music other than
in the cafes. Bucharest boasts of
rather good opera during the winter
and a really fine symphony fire.
quently plays modern music.
The National theater is well pa
tronized and plays by Roumanian
and foreign authors are given. Once
ornate, the building is now shabby,
although an air of faded elegance
still pervades the place.
The Parliament buildings and the
Roumanian Orthodox church stand
on the summit of the only hill in
Bucharest.
Bucharest is a city of churches.
From everywhere can be seen ris-
ing the rounded domes of the Rou
manian Orthodox church. The peo-
Pile are religious, but matter-of-fact
about it. Despite the Slavic influ-
ence, there is no mysticism here.
Religion is simply a part of every
day life. The church is like a pro-
tective father.
Down by the banks of the Dambo-
vita, which Eddie Cantor made IA
nous in one of his songs, is the
great market, where flowers, fruit.
food, household goods, and Rou-
manian handiWork are sold in the
open booths of peasants and petty
tradespeople.
Because SO many peasants are
unable to read, signs on many
stores and shops are illustrated with
pictures of the articles for sale
within.
Around Bucharest the country is
not unlike the agricultural state of
Kansas. Here is a tremendous
wheat and corn region. Visitors love
to go through the villages in this
fertile district. Crazy little Rube
Goldberg houses, whose white
washed walls are painted in soft
pastel shades and decorated with
borders of flowers or animals. pre-