In 1987, 25 schoolchildren from the Harvest High School (Kazakhstan) were encouraged with a free trip to Leningrad. I am lucky to be among them. We stand in front of the Ermitage. Just like in the mausoleum. Dozens of groups mixed at the entrance, guides argue, we are waiting for the second hour. And then one of our guys, Serega, approached the female administrator and said, “We are standing for the second hour, and we have, by the way, a Vietnamese in the delegation!” The woman said, “Where is he?” Sergey pointed to the only Kazakh guy in our group, Manas Kagenov, who really, as everyone immediately seemed, smiled at the Vietnamese. The administrator picked up Manas and asked him strictly, “Are you a Vietnamese?” He did not get confused and issued a tirade in Kazakh language: "Kezekte tұrudan шаршағanam sonša vietnam da, japon da болуғa kelsemine" (I am so tired of standing in a line that I am ready to be not only a Vietnamese, but also a Japanese). There was a pause. “Masha! The woman cried out, “Get out of this group, here’s a Vietnamese!” Under the jealous eyes of the other waiting people, we slipped into the building of the museum. Of course, the nickname “Vietnamese” was fixed on Manas forever.