"We are what we eat." The series began with the question "Why are there no dumplings left?" Or from a memory. In the 1990s, I traveled to Moscow with my art school classmates for museum practice. And somehow, after the next museum, we went to eat in a dumplings shop, stood in line, and this is exactly the question asked by one of our classmates. I remember a keen sense of shame for a mistake in words and his accent. Remembering all this now, I understand what kind of "dumplings" we were, in essence, all those who experienced this feeling of shame for their imperfect knowledge of the Russian language. My "dumplings" are different, we are ridiculous and stupid, kind and funny, they try to have relevant conversations in difficult times