Private Aid Efforts : Soviet Union Wakes Up to Poverty

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 fare may be plain and the tables rickety, but the presence of a soup kitchen off quiet Novoizmailovsky Prospekt in this maritime city has wrought a small miracle in the lives of 100 elderly Soviets. It provides a free midday meal five days a week and, perhaps as important, it offers a chance to escape loneliness, if only for 60 minutes a day.

A Small Miracle

It also is a small miracle in the pages of Soviet history.

Ever since the founding of this Communist country 72 years ago, Soviet officials have asserted that the state protects the social welfare of all, preventing unemployment, poverty or homelessness.

“To acknowledge the existence of poverty was to acknowledge that this society has a class structure, and for obvious reasons, no one wanted to do that,” one American specialist in the Soviet economy said in an interview.

But now, under the leadership of President Mikhail S. Gorbachev, officials are slowly admitting that millions of people have fallen through the cracks of the social welfare system--and that the state can use some help from private, voluntary organizations to cope with the problem of elderly poor.

The process, however, is slow. The problem of elderly poor exists nationwide. Leningrad is one of the few cities where it is beginning to be addressed.

Nonetheless, the American specialist, who asked not to be identified, noted: “Just by saying, ‘Yes, we’ve got a problem,’ they’ve taken a big step forward.”

$95-a-Month Pensions

One-fifth of the Soviet population is of retirement age, and, according to official estimates, more than one-third of the country’s 58 million retirees receive pensions of less than 60 rubles a month, or about $95 at the official exchange rate.

Those earning less than $120 a month are considered to be living below the Soviet poverty level, and Soviet officials privately acknowledge that as many as 50% of the country’s elderly may fall into that category.

Comparatively, 9% of the U.S. population, or 23.8 million people, are retirees receiving Social Security, and 1.4% of the population is composed of retirees living below the poverty level of $450 per person per month.

In the Soviet Union, however, health care and housing are subsidized, generally costing only a few rubles a month.

Zinieda A. Lavrov, 63, is among this country’s elderly poor. A former worker in a clothing factory, she receives 52 rubles a month in pension.

To understand how that translates in daily expenses, consider that Soviet economists estimate it costs a minimum of 30 rubles a month to feed one adult with only bread, porridge, milk and tea.

“My husband, a journalist in Leningrad, died of a heart attack nine years ago, and things took a turn for the worse,” Lavrov said in the city’s soup kitchen over a healthy serving of cabbage soup.

“The system was not able to care for me,” she said. “I sold all my jewelry so I could have food, and then I didn’t know what to do. Being able to come to this free cafeteria once a day has saved me.”

Pensions vary in the Soviet Union, but average about 45% of a person’s salary at the time of retirement. Women who have worked for at least 20 years are eligible to receive pensions at the age of 55, and men who have worked at least 25 years are eligible at age 60.

Premier Nikolai I. Ryzhkov, addressing the Soviet Union’s newly elected legislators last month, drew sustained applause when he promised that a first task of the lawmaking Supreme Soviet would be to amend the 30-year-old law regulating pensions and to provide retirees with larger monthly allowances. But Soviet media have said the amendment, even once approved, is not expected to go into effect until 1991.

Thus, there is a desperate need for more free cafeterias like the one in Leningrad.

Good Use of a Free Meal

About one-quarter of Leningrad’s population of 4.4 million is of retirement age, and many of those could make good use of a free meal a day, according to Nayalya P. Dyachenko, a founding member of the Leningrad Mercy Society, which opened the soup kitchen.

In addition, she said, about 20,000 Leningraders are homeless and in need of help.

“Right now in Leningrad, there are people dying from starvation,” she said in an interview.

But she said that opening more soup kitchens would not be easy.

“Our society was founded two years ago with personal approval from Comrade Gorbachev. From the beginning, we wanted to open the soup kitchen, but we couldn’t get permission,” she recalled.

“The official position was that by its mere existence, the free cafeteria would show that there are people who are hungry and people who are poor,” she said. “And in our schools we are taught such people do not exist in the Soviet Union.”

Opened With Donated Funds

City officials finally relented, and the Leningrad Mercy Society, using funds donated by 14 professional organizations and trade unions, opened the soup kitchen in April.

The meals change daily, but the ingredients are often the same, including potatoes and cabbage. Dyachenko estimates that running the free cafeteria for a year will cost the equivalent of $35,200.

“We don’t have that much money right now, but we are sending volunteers out on the streets with jars to collect change,” she said. “We’re determined to keep the kitchen open.”

Poverty is not the only problem cited by the nation’s elderly. Alienation is equally pervasive, and a need for companionship draws the elderly to Leningrad’s soup kitchen as surely as hunger.

“When I gave one woman a certificate to indicate she was entitled to free meals at our kitchen, she looked at me quite proudly and said she would give it a try only for a day or two,” said Dr. Vladimir A. Lykianov, a Mercy Society volunteer who was given the task of selecting the 100 people living in the area of the soup kitchen and most in need of daily meals.

‘She Cried With Joy’

“When I saw her a week later, she thanked me and cried with joy. It was not the food but the new friendships that made her so happy,” he said.

Most elderly Soviets who live below the poverty line are those whose nearest relatives have either died or live far away, because families in the Soviet Union usually take care of their own. Thus, the elderly poor here frequently have very little human contact, Lykianov said.

Meals, remembered as a time of family sharing, can be particularly lonely.

Rosa P. Solovyov, 63, with light blue eyes and a single bottom tooth, lives alone. A typist before retiring, she receives a pension of 60 rubles a month.

“My husband died four years ago, and everything is so quiet now that he is gone,” she said. “I don’t eat much at home, but it’s not the money only--I just don’t feel like eating.”

“Nor do I,” added 81-year-old Agenya P. Lebediv, who was sitting across the table from Solovyov. “I am old now. I cannot see well enough to read, and it is hard to walk. At home I mostly lie in bed and listen to the radio.”

Almost Like the Old Days

But when they go out for their daily luncheons together, the women said, it is almost like the old days, when they were young. They put on their best clothes and pat their hair into place. They try to forget about aches and pains, both physical and mental.

“We don’t dwell on the bad times here,” said 79-year-old Leida A. Dimetriv, who was wearing a bright red dress and a string of imitation pearls.

“The hour we spend here is the best hour of the day,” Dimetriv said, nodding firmly as she gestured at the lunch tables around her filled with elderly Leningraders. “We may be alone. We may be poor. But while we are here, we are merry widows.”