Amerikai Magyar Hírlap, 1994 (6. évfolyam, 1-50. szám)

1994-09-23 / 36. szám

AMERICAN Hungarian Journal English Page by SUSAN JANCSO Banks Agree to Reduce Poland’s Debt WARSAW - Poland signed an agreement with Western banks that reduces its defaulted com­mercial debt of $14 billion by nearly half, opening the door to what many hope will be a new economic era. Foreign banks had already ex­pressed interest in opening operations in Poland, a country with one of the fastest growing economies in Europe, yet until now limited in growth potential because of restricted financial opportunities. The co-chairman of the negotiating group for the 400 creditor banks, E. Michael Hunter of Lloyds Bank, described the debt agreement at a news conference as "truly favorable and truly beneficial to Poland." The Polish finance min­ister, Grzegorz Kolodko, said it would enable investors to judge his country by "its present and future achievements, not by the burden of the past." He said he now expected more than $1 bil­lion a year in foreign investment to come to Poland. Western economists were more cautious in their expectations. "It is helpful but certainly not going to solve all Poland’s problems overnight," said James Lister- Cheese, of a London-based financial research company. An­nual inflation was 33 percent at the last report, and Polish foreign trade was running at a deficit. The basis of the present agree­ment was reached in March after four years of negotiations. Poland was the fourth-largest debtor among developing countries, coming after several big Latin American nations that had each reached its own debt­­reduction agreement. Poland’s debt problems arose when the post-Communist government stopped paying the principal and interest on loans taken out by the communists in the 1970’s for housing and con­sumer-oriented programs. (NYT) Uranium Smugglers Hungarian police have detained two Hungarians who were suspected of having smuggled two kilograms of radioactive material from Russia. Police said the two kilograms of radiating material were supposedly uranium rods. Colonel László Tonhauzer, head of the police department for organized crime, said the material was found in a car parked in front of a Budapest hotel. The identity of the smug­glers has not been revealed, only that they are 41 and 42 years old. Police confirmed that the material was weapons grade and could be used to produce nuclear arms. MOTHER KITTYCAT Henrietta turned into the wide driveway lined with gardenia bushes, parked her dove-gray Cadillac with the black top in front of the house, got out and straightened the wrinkles of her skirt. While she took the few steps through the roses of the front yard to the red brick house, surrounded by green potted plants, she was searching for her keys in her shoulder bag. Her fingers had just closed around the bunch of keys when she noticed a slight move­ment from the corner of her eye. Next to the entrance, in the gap of the trellised brick wall a tiny black head appeared. Then another next to it, and the third and the fourth in the gaps above... Eight bright blue eyes opened wide, four cute little kittens peering out of the openings of the wall. When they saw Henrietta, they pulled back, frightened, but not for long, for in the next moment they stuck their heads out again. She moved closer and bent over, to peer inside the hideaway. The first kitten was baring his teeth and spitting at her - he must be "the man of the house," she thought. From behind his back, the second one - white-nosed and white pawed - was peeking curiously (she was too young to know that curiosity killed the cat...), while the others pulled way back inside. So this is where Mother Kittycat hid her litter! - thought Hen­rietta, smiling to herself. Mother Kittycat was a splendid Siamese cat, with huge, incredibly blue eyes; short-haired, her fawn-colored fur turning into dark brown around the head, ears, paws and tail. There was something noble, almost regal about this small animal, the way she stood still and looked Henrietta in the eye impassively, without fear, if she came across her in the garden. She did not run away like the other three cats who were regular boarders at Henrietta’s. She sauntered proudly, like a princess, with her dark tail pointed skyward, straight as an arrow. Even now, as she was sitting on the porch, in the middle of the oval rug, she looked like a precious piece of china, not unlike the priceless, graceful Lladro and Capodimonte figurines sitting in Henrietta’s showcases and all over her house. Since Lyle died, collecting china was her only passion, and her family and friends catered to it diligently. Ever since she has been living alone in the beautiful Hancock Park mansion with the fabulous garden, fit to become a wildlife reservation, somehow she tuned in to the world of birds and animals around her. In the morning, when she watered the lawn, her beloved roses and, at the back of the garden, the bright green ferns shining out of the mass of dark foliage, she conversed with the inhabitants of the garden. If the branches of the eucalyptus tree shook, she knew there was a squirrel at work up there; if the cones were falling from the pine tree, she jokingly shook her finger at the offender: "Hey you, stop throwing things"; she put out seeds and poured fresh water for the bluejays, and for the cats, she put there milk and bologna. She even scolded the unsuspecting spiders, getting more numerous with fall around the corner, if they spun their carefully constructed, geometrically perfect webs between the driveway and the entrance. Henrietta was pleased to see the little kittens, and would have liked to caress them, but they were too easily scared. Thus she contented herself with scratching Mother Kittycat’s rounded back. She could not explain, not even to herself, what kind of feelings it evoke in her when she caressed the Siamese cat’s shiny, silky, somewhat stiff hair. Beyond the sensual pleasure of the touch, it evoked a whole bunch of memories in her, just like the madeleine melting in the fragrant, hot linden tea did for Proust. It brought back memories of the summers with Giuditta in Rome, the long drawn-out lunches in the tiny garden on whose low parapet the cats of the house held a private show for them: enter Tawny from the right, exit Tabby-cat to the left, Romeo strutting across the "stage," Unwed Mother sleeping at the foot of the wall with her little ones. Oh yes, and Waiter, now he was really something! He got his name because of his black coat with white breast and white spots at the paws - as if he were wearing a dinner jacket. The kids were splashing in the inflatable plastic pool, and the two of them couldn’t stop talking, remembering, evoking old love stories. Mother Kittycat... The memory hit her, sharp and vivid, causing pain and pleasure at the same time. Oh God, what a summer that was! She could see again those bright blue eyes, which made the rugged, suntanned face framed by shiny black hair light up like the morning sky when the sun suddenly breaks through. As if in a dream, he could hear again the deep, melodious baritone which still made her shiver: "I will always love you, for as long as I live!" No one had ever loved Henrietta like this. He just could not get enough of her. He kept stroking her and kissing her and sampling her wherever he could. She found it strange at first that he looked at her like a child when he sees a piece of cake with whipped cream on top. He looked at her as if she were some kind of tasty bite! Today he would no longer be offended by this, for she learned that genuine desire is just as valid as genuine love. How did Oscar Wilde put it? The only difference between a great love and a caprice is that the caprice lasts a little longer... But back then she gave her the somewhat sarcastic nickname of Mother Kittycat, because he systematically wandered all over her body, like the cat, when she is grooming her kittens. When the summer ended, so did their relationship. Henrietta felt something warm and wet on her hand. One of the kittens ventured closer to her and started to lick her hand with its rough little tongue! She gingerly caressed the little bundle -where on earth did Mother Kittycat get this bunch of pitch-black kittens? - and then let out a big shigh. Oh well, every age has its own beauties... 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