My name is Moon Ki Su-Korean name, but I also have a Russian name – Peter. This name was given to me for two reasons: to make it convenient for teachers to call my name during the school years, the second – in honor of the Great Russian Tsar, Peter the Great who was the reformer of new Russia. .
According to my mother, when I was born, unlike other children, I was overweight, and my face was chubby compared to my siblings, and weighed over four kg. Whenever my mother feeds me I never get satisfied from her breastfeed. She always has to give me cow's milk over breastfeed.
At the first stage of feeding, she could not understand why I was constantly crying. At first, she thought that I was probably sick, and then later she realized that I was not eating my fill. Although all my siblings had enough breast milk, I was the only one who was happy with breast milk.
When the neighbors found out that I was born, everyone who could make it came to our house to take a look at me. Looking at me, everyone said in unison that a hero was born in this house. They also said that I would be different from other children in something. Traditionally it was believed that when a child is born, then all the neighbors are to come to take a look at the newborn by predicting the baby's future. They even noticed the way I played differently from other babies.
In this respect, the neighbors were right when they said I would be any different. Unlike other brothers, and there were four of us in the family. All the brothers disturbed parents, and I was the only one who practically did not cause much trouble.
On the contrary, I was weak hearted, I would always try to please them, and did everything I had been told. In addition, ever since I was a child I could not bear to see peers hurting the weak. At least I loved breaking a fight apart. I have always been trying to take care of the weak. If I someone get hurt, I had to feel bad about it. So I never get fight first, I would rather wait until I get hit me in the face. It seems God did not do me any favors in my conscience. Some people told me that I was born with two helpings of brain but only half a helping heart. Even during my student life in Siberia there had been many occasions when I have had to feel remorse. Although I did not get into a fight first, I am always the one paying the price. I had to feel guilty. When I lived in a student’s dorm next to academic building, I could always defend myself.
The majority of these newcomers were from the Altai regions. They have always been there for each other. They look out for each other.
That day when the incident happened they were prowling the dormitory to molest girls who try to avoid them.
For the first time in my life, I felt a pang of conscience, but there was no other way out.
There were cases when conflicts took place between them and me over nothing, after which I have had to intervene to prevent bloodshed in the dorm. Since I was the eldest of all students living in the dorm, the deputy appointed me to be a senior to maintain order and discipline. Otherwise students would get disgustingly drunk to mess around.
Once in our dorm during a disco, a fight almost broke out being caused by drunken students. I told them not to molest girls like that. Knowing that I was alone, they pounced on me to intimidate me. I had no choice but to use force. All I needed to do is defend myself. There were three guys; two of them were taller than me by a head, and larger in build. I could not to see them getting me down in front of the crowd. They had been trying to humiliate me. I kind of just stood there in stunned in silence, as they had been rude to me. Then I could not endure the behavior of those men and I was the first to strike, I knew beforehand, if I didn’t strike first, they would have trampled me under their feet. I had keen a sense of self preservation. As a result, one of them, who was the tallest, found himself on the floor with broken lips and blood all over the floor. He was lying on the floor in a pool of blood holding himself. At the sight of blood, I was scared beyond imagining. And what if he needed stitches on his lips and surgery. At the thought of being responsible for violence, I was seized by the dreadful fear that I would be arrested. I felt bad about it. This mental pain continued until he forgave me completely. Although it was not my fault to start a conflict, I had to suffer a lot and become a victim of the conflict. It was the worst night I had ever spent in my life. I could not sleep all night through
