From the discussion of the repairs made by the jamsuit:
I have a friend who is good at farce (the devil knows why he needed it, but studied it). Repairs were carried out in the apartment. After another battle he built them in his native language (Tajik - practically a dialect of the Farsi). He built so hard. After that, only the brigadier of the Tajiks appealed to him and only on "you".
WOW: Go to you. I started studying Turkish. As a side effect, he began to understand what the Uzbek cleaners are trembling about. I screamed at them to talk quietly. Previously, comments were responded only if complaining to the brigadier. Since then, my desk and its surroundings have been wiped and cleaned with special care. The ways of God are unknown.