I was in high school during Soviets time, and one of the required subjects was warfare. Among other stupid stuff, high schoolers were required to learn how to assemble Kalashnikov machine gun. There were about 40 teens in my class, roughly half of them boys. Our teacher was middle-aged man with a very weird sense of humor. I recall he loved to call me to come to the front and put Kalashnikov together. It`s hard to imagine two more incompatible things than me as a teen and a machine gun. I was a shy girl with two braids wearing glasses, as girly as it gets. So, there I was, standing in front of the class, looking at Kalashnikov with fear and disgust and not sure what to do. One boy called Sashka always helped me, loudly whispering directions. I reluctantly did what he said, but honestly, I was very bad at it, and I didn`t wanna learn. Something in me resisted weapon, a tool to kill. Thanks God, the teacher was not mean, and he graded me B- instead of well-deserved F.  To my surprise, next lesson he called me again, and it was a shame that I didn`t learn anything and was just as bad as the first time. The third time I tried to argue and told him that I am a pacifist, and I don’t like weapons. It didn`t help. Sashka was always there ready to help. I was trying to understand our military teacher`s motivation. Why did he call me out for five or six lessons in a row to put together damn Kalashnikov? He seemed to enjoy the show, he turned his chair so he could see me well and he looked like he was about to watch a comedy. Who the hell said that guys are simple, and girls are complicated?

Sashka was another puzzle to solve. He never showed any romantic interest in me, but once I was in trouble he helped. He accompanied me home together with his girlfriend after parties, because I lived in a bad neighborhood. His girlfriends were always pretty girls from good neighborhoods, always polite with me, but they hated me, it was in their eyes. I felt guilty for ruining their romantic evening, I didn't ask him! I would tell his current girlfriend. To this day, I don’t know why he was doing it. Maybe he felt like a knight in a shining armor, protecting a stupid girl from the next trouble she was about to get herself into. Anyway, most likely because of him I didn't get raped in high school, so I am grateful. But I disagree that guys are simple. People are complicated...