When I was 10 years old, I was taught French at my regular school. By that time, my grandfather had just retired. He decided to learn French to control his grandson. At 60 years old, armed with insomnia, some French-language radio play recorded on a record, its paper version in Polish (his native) and a thick collection of proverbs of the times of Louis IV with translation into Russian, he started from scratch. Apres nous le déluge – I still remember. A few years later, his grandfather spoke well and even led some delegations as an interpreter.