A Mistake Moonlit night; our hearts are broken – We are leaving home. Storm inside; no word is spoken – We must stay alone. Best days we have left forever; Will they come again? Sitting on a tree, near heathers, Heard us only a wren. We have lost in deep night twilight Quitting our kin; A heavy burden we hold inside – Nothing’s left within... (based on the film "Dancing at Lughnasa")

A Photo from Album An old granny’s album keeps lots of yellowed with time photos. I take one of them in my hands. There is a young man on it. Linking his arms, he is sitting on a small suitcase. The man is sitting on the roadside, and faint outline of pines are seen behind him. The cap is moved back; short coat is undone, and on the legs are kersey boots, splashed with dirt. This is my granddad, Anatoly Nikolayevich Fedotov. My granddad was growing in a big family; he had got two brothers and two sisters. That’s why he got fixed up in the Belokataysk gas logging expedition after completing the school. Belokataysk region is located on the very northern part of Bashkiria, one of numerous republics in Russia. There, among thick forests, reconnaissance works were led. They were holing in the unexplored lands, and ascertaining what had been situated under the stratum: gas or oil? My dad worked as operator. He was looking after the instruments that take gas analysis. On the old photo that is kept in granny’s album, he is just preparing for departure to Belokataysk, waiting a helicopter. Profession of an oilman has been always caused interest and admiration. But this is not an easy work; it demands special knowledge and education. Granddad dreamed of entering to the Ufa petroleum technological university. That’s why, leaving for an expedition, along with soap, toothbrush and other articles, he was also taking student’s books. As a free minute had occurred, granddad studied them, preparing for entrance examinations. Herein I must say that thanks to the persistence and purposefulness he gained his end. Granddad completed the university as mining engineer in 1967. He had occasion to serve in army as well. He found himself on one of the very remote areas of Russia, the Republic of Tuva, near the Mongolian boarder. He came to Nurlat, my mother-town, after serving. Here, he got fixed up as a driller assistant. The chisel drills at a depth of 1500 metres when working. The driller assistant must help driller to direct an auger into soil, to drag used tubes away and to drag new ones to. Whether it was showering or snowing, dad had to work at any weather. He told me that drilling station is like a small town; people both lived and had rest there. Carriages are herded around a derrick. All in them are adapted for people’s needs; here is a dining-carriage, a shower-carriage, a sleeping-carriage and even rest-carriages among them!

The Power of Imagination In the 50s of 20th century, an English cargo boat transporting bottles of the Madeira wine arrived at its destination, a port in Scotland. One of seamen went into a cold cargo tank to verify whether all the bottles were shipped. Knowing nothing about this, another seaman locked the door outside. The captive was knocking the bulkheads with all his power, but nobody heard him, and the ship left for Portugal. The seaman found enough meal indoors, but he knew that he couldn't endure the low temperature for long. He grabbed a piece of metal and used all his energy to scratch out, hour after hour, day after day, his story about his torment. He described his agony with scientific accuracy, how cold bound his body frostbiting his nose, fingers and toes, how unbearable were burns of chilling air. When the boat had dropped anchor in Lisbon, a captain opened the tank and found the dead seaman. People read his scratched out on the walls story. But this wasn't the most fabulous. The captain measured the temperature in the tank. A thermometer showed 19 degrees. As the ship went backwards without cargo, the cooling system was off. The man died only because he thought that he had been cold. He became a victim of his own imagination.

Favourite dish I’d like to share a recipe with you. This is the recipe of the dish which is one of my most favourite Tatar dishes. It’s very easy to cook and not heavy. Ingredients: For dough: * 300-500 g white flour * 100 g milk * 15 g sugar * 50 g butter * 1 egg * salt For the filling: * potato puree with passed onion Knead unleavened dough. Put it into a pan covered with a lid, and leave for a couple of minutes. As it gets ready, divide your dough into pieces and then roll them out with a rolling pin. Bake in a dry frying pan. Put the potato puree into hot flat cakes and after this fold them up. Grease them a bit, and your kystyby are ready! And what is your favourite dish?

The Precious Memories Dancing at Lughnasa, by Pat O'Connor, is set in 1998 and based on Brian Friel's play which is about playwright's childhood memories. This film is an Irish drama, it's also considered to be one of the best films ever set in Ireland. Main characters are Michael Mundy (a reflecting the author narrator), Kate Mundy, Rose Mundy, Beggie Mundy, Father Jack, Agnes Mundy and Gerry Evans. The story of 'Dancing at Lughnasa' written in close 1990 doesn't tell about facts a lot (coming of the Industrial Revolution to Ireland when Irish society began getting poorer and poorer, trying to survive), but more reflects the atmosphere of faraway Friel's childhood memories. Despite a lot of difficulties and terrible events, this story appears as a window to calming and warming the author's soul recollections. This story is about the certain period of Friel's life, which later will change forever. The story begins in early August; a measured life in work. Kate works as a school teacher to support her family; Agnes and Rose knit mittens trying to help Kate. Uncle Jack comes back home from Uganda where he has worked as a missionary for 25 years. Suddenly, the illegal father of Michael, Gerry, comes. Christie is charmed with him again as during his earlier arrivals once a year or so. Rose falls in love with Danny Bradley, a light-minded married man with 3 children who consequently takes her for sailing in Lough Anna and then forcibly compels her to go to festival on Lughnasa with him.Later, by midnight, Jack saves his sister; she would like to think of Mr Bradley no more. Gradually it gets clear that Jack can't work as a priest because of being mentally ill. Kate is expelled from school, Rose and Agnes's mittens are not in need anymore because a new factory has been opened nearby. The most joyous and inspiring moment is dancing as the radio repaired by Gerry begins to work. But everything goes away, and returning to their family's funds problem Rose and Agnes decide to leave home forever. As it becomes known much later, they lived in slums of London, in poverty, and then died there. The acting was excellent: Meryl Streep played Kate, and Michael Gambon whose role also was Dumbldore in one of series of films about Harry Potter's adventures played Uncle Jack. Moving music was composed by Bill Whelan. 'Dancing at Lughnasa' is a very good film for whole family which broadens history views and ability to sympathize with people.

Tatarstan I live in Nurlat which is on the most south of Tatarstan, a republic of the same size as Ireland. Tatarstan is located in Russia, but has got its own, Tatar, culture including folklore, music, dance, architecture style and cuisine. This is a very unusual land: there are three nationalities living here – Russians, Tatars and Chuvash; three languages – Russian, Tatar and Chuvash; both Orthodox Christianity and Islam. The national colour is considered to be green; it's also a colour of Islam. In Tatarstan, you can find both Christian churches (mainly orthodox, but in Kazan, the capital of the republic, there are some protestant and catholic ones) and Muslim mosques. It's very fascinating that muezzins, the ‘prayer callers’, sing the songs of prayers every morning, noon, evening and night. Nurlat itself is a very small town, but Kazan is a big city, well-known in Russia. Kazan has very ancient roots; it celebrated its millennium in 2005. There are national Tatar holidays, such as Uraza Bairam and Kurban Bairam. Sabantui, the National Folk Feast, is held in June. The Republic of Tatarstan has its own national symbols, a flag and a state emblem. The Tatar flag consists of three stripes: red – maturity, energy, force and life; white – purity and green – spring. The main part of the State Emblem is Ak Bars, ‘Snow Leopard’, reflecting the Tatars themselves. Through the centuries, having come from ancient Turkic peoples, the Tatars carry their most precious treasure – their culture.

Betti Tá madra agam. Betti is ainm di. Sílim go bhuil sí iontach cairdiúil agus gealgháireach, ach stalcach go minic fósta. Is bulladóir Francach í. Ar an drochuair, tá ailléirge uirthi, agus ní itheann sí ach rís agus duáin. Tógainn mo theaghlach í. Múineadh an mhadra múineadh an teaghlaigh.

An Iontráil Bheag Dia duit! Is mise Nikita. Is as Nurlat, Poblacht Tatarstan, an Rúis, dom. Tá mé ag foghlaim Gaeilge. D'éist mé le Giota Beag, Giota Beag Eile agus Giota Níos Mó, ar feadh leathbhlian. Agus anois, éist mé le 'Learn Irish' le Liam Ó Maonlaí. I mo thuarimse, tá an theanga seo go hálainn agus go neamhghnách. Ba mhaith liom a fháil amach faoi chultur na nGael i níos mó.