When I was small, 5 years of age, my weakness was to find my mom’s cosmetics, use it as intended (not always) and run to my mom with screams: “Mom, am I beautiful? “The beautiful?” She smiled and replied, “Beautiful, beautiful... Just like a monkey!”

At the same time we visited my mother's brother and wife. One evening they were gathering for an event and, of course, the uncle’s wife marathoned before leaving. I sat next to and admired how my beloved aunt became so beautiful and dressed that at the end I could not stand and with all childish enthusiasm and tenderness cried, "Aunt Gula, you are so beautiful! As a monkey!”

It was only then that I learned that the monkey is a Tatar monkey.