Berlin It’s a Saturday afternoon at the end of May when Andrej tells his story in a video call. The face of the brunette young man from the Russian Caucasus republic of Dagestan appears on the screen, with a strong jaw and yet strikingly delicate facial features.
He is in his early 30s and is reporting from his apartment in Moscow, because he left Dagestan years ago, studied in the capital and found work at one of the many universities there. Unlike his older brother Ivan, who has just passed the hardest months of his life and whose story Andrei wants to tell.
This time has also left its mark on Andrei, he seems terribly tired. “I’m fine,” he says, “I’m alive and unharmed.” Mentally, things are different for him.
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