What did the house where you grew up look like? Describe it, tell about its surroundings, so that the reader can imagine it.

My childhood was spent in different houses. Rather, there was no house at all, but there were rooms and apartments. I will describe the one where I lived from 6 to 10 years old. My father got it from his job, he worked as a teacher in a forestry school. This was our first apartment. Before that, we lived in a dorm room without any amenities, so we were very happy to live in a real apartment with an entrance hall, a corridor and separate rooms. Our apartment was on the second floor of a two-story brick building. On each floor, if my memory serves me, there were four apartments - one three-room, one two-room and two one-room, one of which we got. Our apartment consisted of a room and a kitchen, a toilet was in the yard, and there was no bathroom at all. The house was surrounded by a wooden fence. On the side opposite to the house there was a two-point wooden lavatory and eight sheds, according to the number of apartments. Coal and firewood were stored in the sheds. The fact is that the house had stove heating. The plumbing was only with cold water, so I had to heat the stove in the kitchen for cooking and heating in cold weather. The house was bordered on one side by the forestry school where my father worked, and in front of the house, 20 meters away, there was a road. On two other sides, the house was surrounded by vacant lots.

Tell about a time in your life (or the life of someone you know) when you were ashamed or embarrassed about your behavior.

Once we were going on vacation with my husband at sea. On the last evening before leaving, I decided to check if I had prepared everything for departure, walked around the apartment and saw that all my jewelry and jewelry lay in the most conspicuous place, on the pier glass. “It's dangerous to leave them here, you need to hide them somewhere,” I thought. I walked around the apartment for a long time, looking for a suitable secluded place. I asked my husband for advice, but he was busy and only brushed me off. All the places seemed unreliable to me. I went out to the loggia. “There will be the farthest from the front door, which is put on the alarm,” - I naively decided. The further course of my thoughts, in connection with the pre-departure turmoil, flew out of my head. When we returned from vacation, I went to the loggia to pick up my jewelry, but to my surprise, they were not there. I started looking elsewhere. They were nowhere to be found. My husband and I shared an apartment into squares and carefully searched everywhere. I called the foreman to check the alarm, went to the police station. The police told me that only my neighbor, who twice a week came to the apartment to water my flowers, could be a thief. I immediately refused this option, and did not write a statement. The alarm master said that the alarm is working, but you do not have an alarm on the loggia. It seemed to me that it was not realistic to get into the apartment on the sixth floor through the loggia, but he gave me all sorts of cases from his practice. We talked with my husband and decided that, most likely, he was right. I was very upset. I remembered every thing from my casket, who gave it or how it was bought. Such experiences, which hung like a heavy stone on my neck, I could not help but share with the people around me. I told about what happened to all my family, friends, friends and neighbors. Everyone was very sympathetic to me. Several months passed. For the new year, I decided to cook meat in fondue. The fondue dish, which I rarely use, stood against the side of a very deep cabinet in the kitchen. Imagine my amazement when, pushing it away, I saw my missing box! I screamed with happiness. I had absolutely no recollection of how she got there. I was happy, but at the same time, I was embarrassed by the thought of how many people I had blinked at.

What do you value most in your work? Why is this important to you? Tell us if your attitude to work has changed over the years.

The work of a teacher has always seemed to me extremely interesting. I thought that communicating with students, teaching them something that I myself am good at, I would never grow old in soul, learning something new every day. It never occurred to me that I could teach Japanese in America. Today, as before, I value most of all the opportunity to communicate with students, as well as with the teaching staff of the department. Since I just started working at this place, all the time is spent on preparing for classes, checking student work and developing materials. In the future, I also hope to engage in research work aimed at improving language teaching methods. It would be great if I could make full use of the knowledge acquired over the long years of education.