Ivan pulls his knees up, resting his heels on the stool and lowering his chin to his knees. He watches Timo's hands, or maybe the soup - both the man and the prospect of food are warring for his attention right now.

"For the last year, when other children were visiting, I was always sent to be instructed together with them." So he has learned a bit, he can read and has a very rough grip on writing and basic math, but that is about it. He's had three teachers so far, and none of them for longer than the few weeks that his cousins were visiting. If he hadn't found reading interesting enough to do it without being told to, because his mother had liked it... he wouldn't be any good at it now.