I put on my glasses, walked up to the baby and took a closer look. It seemed like there were no lice crawling on my head. But he didn't smell very nice. It was the smell not so much of dirt as of some kind of staleness, rotten grass, swamp. I patted the child on the shoulder, said, “goy,” and led him into the bath, which was already filling. He pointed his finger at him, dipped his finger in the water, said again: “goy.” The child nodded (let’s hope that a nod among these people means agreement) and repeated my gesture: he pointed his finger at me, dipped his finger in the water. It clearly wanted me to get into the bath first. Well, I started to undress. The child too. I was left in my shorts, the child was left in something resembling a loincloth. So he unwound it. Glory to Allah - boy. And not circumcised, which negates the version about the Bedouins. The boy caught my eye on his groin, nodded and put his hand into my underpants.