[Not far from Novosibirsk I helped a woman to saw up a big block for firewood and she, instead of food, gave me some dead fish she fed chickens with. To make a broth I dropped in a hut that was almost without a roof and with windows stuffed with straw in the places where the glass was smashed. There were three of them in the hut - an old man, a billy-goat and a cock.]
The old man looked like Rasputin, Flour Miller from The Mermaid and Mad Archangel from The Prince and the Pauper. He elucidated stomping and swinging arms, "Russia used to perish from enemies, Tartars from the East, Germans from the North, Poles from the West and Napoleon with a dozen of languages was born in the South and before the march on Russia had gone to the Pharaoh of Egypt for blessing. Russia, with God's help, prevailed over all of them. Now it is worse! Satan himself ganged up, he took soul, image of God out of the humans and pitted a brother against a brother!"
[...I felt that the words of that "prophet" were dangerous not only for the speaker but also for the listener. I thanked the deaf "prophet" for his hospitality and rushed out holding the steaming coffee-pot in the hands without finishing to cook the fish glop.]