A Negro came to Ukraine and stayed there in some station. 20 years have passed.
And here he is on the electric. The Negro himself with huge goats gray in a choklad village hat, in a shirt and wide pants with a choklad huge bag.
He enters the semi-station and sits in front of his grandfather, too. Grandfather arranges, He raises his eyes and looks at the neighbor with astonishment. The Negro, not paying attention, climbs into the bag, gets fat bread, onion, knife, cuts off a healthy piece of both and begins to snack, while brewing something from a turmeric paddle.
Grandpa can’t stand and asks:
Son, who are you?
Who... who... who... who... who! The Negro answered.
So who am I? My grandfather is scared.
Bishop knows you. You can be a mosque, you can be a Jew.