Singapore

"Where are you now?" I asked on WhatsApp my youngest son, who had returned to his place of study from a ten-day trip around the countries of Southeast Asia.

"I'm in Singapore right now. I decided to go on a tour of the city's mosques. It's interesting."

"Are there many mosques there?"

"I wouldn't say many, but not few either. After all, it borders Malaysia, where Sunni Islam is the official religion. But in general Singapore is a secular state. Right now I'm actually in the country's main mosque."

"And how was the trip? Did you like it?"

"It was absolute madness! Visiting several countries with different cultures and languages in ten days is not easy at all. You need more time."

"What language did you speak with the locals?"

"Mostly English. But many don't know it. I tried speaking Chinese. Surprisingly, they understood me! I spoke French too. And in Cambodia I even talked in German. That man had lived in Germany for a long time."

"And did your Russian come in handy at all? They say that in Vietnam they still treat Russians with respect."

"Yes, that's true. But I didn't need Russian there. I needed Russian when I was travelling by bus from Cambodia to Vietnam. At one of the stops I discovered that my phone was missing. Then I remembered I'd left it in the restaurant where I'd had lunch with the other passengers. But I had no cash to get to my destination. Only bank cards. And there were no ATMs nearby either. Two old ladies from Kyrgyzstan were riding in the bus with me. They gave me 20 euros so I could get there. I needed Russian to thank them. The phone was right there, by the way. Nobody stole it."

Old ladies from the Soviet Union. It is a peculiar greeting from the past to the present generation. That is roughly how we lived when we were in one state.

After a month of living alone, my son had an American moved into his room. One must understand that this was a smile from the university administration. The joke fell flat. An ordinary American, like all the rest. Nothing special. Arms. Legs. Head. What else... A white-toothed smile. If you didn't know he was an American, he could pass for a Swede or a Pole.

But that's not the point.

A few days ago a medium-sized monitor lizard crawled into their room. It is hard to tell what was going through the reptile's head. Perhaps it wanted to devour the American. Or perhaps to treat itself to the Russian. Or gobble up both at once. But when they woke up, the reptile, flicking its tongue hungrily, was looking from one to the other in turn: which one to start with! The flabby, pale-haired American fattened on burgers, or the tall but skinny Russian after all.

Evidently having decided nothing, it crawled under the bed to think it over.

The boys had to do something before they were eaten. A monitor's bite is deadly, and after that it can feast on the lodgers until they are missed at the university.

The Russian and the American had a rare opportunity to unite in a strong alliance and act against an external enemy. To prove that together they were a force!

At first that is how it was. They tried to drive the monitor out from under the bed with sticks. But when the animal began to show aggression, the American, citing urgent business, left the room. Actually, as always. In this world little changes. Americans generally like to act through other people's hands.

So the Russian had to act alone, like Ilya Muromets against the Serpent, the Foul Monster! It's a simple matter, here... Either he gets you, or you get him!

My youngest son managed, not without difficulty, to drive the monitor out from under the bed. It strolled unhurriedly, with a sense of complete dignity, out of the room.

Still, Russians are tougher stock. The Americans' leaven is weak.