Travel Reference
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both realize that one of our favorite cities in the world is Busan, a South Korean port where
he moves excavation equipment and I covered an international summit attended by former
president George W. Bush.
“There really are special moments in life,” Andrei says, looking at me and Sergei.
“When you came last time, we spent time together, all of us, and I believe we grew wiser.”
It's getting late, and we have an early start to get to Sagra in the morning. We pay the
bill, and Andrei walks us to the lobby of the hotel. “Do zavtra [until tomorrow],” I say, be-
fore catching myself and noticing it's already 12:30 a.m. “
Do sevodnya
[until today].”
Andrei walks out into the cold to his car, and Sergei and I take the elevator up to our
rooms for a few hours of sleep.
At 10:00 a.m. sharp Andrei is in the lobby, and we jump into his SUV for the half-hour
drive to the village. It takes a while to get out of Ekaterinburg, a city of more than a million
people that reminds me of Chicago—a population and cultural hub, with a more friendly
vibe, not as intense or high-strung as New York, or in this case, Moscow.
I ask Andrei if we can stop at a grocery store to pick up some things to bring to his
father. We grab sausage, pickles, and a bottle of cognac. I pay, Andrei grabs the bags from
the cashier, and, smiling, hands me the bottle of cognac to carry. I get his message: Let's
see some redemption. I carry it—carefully and successfully—to the car.
As we get closer to Sagra, the roads get narrower and less well traveled. We are now on
the road where, in 2011, that violent gang was walking toward the village, with unknown
intentions.
The story of what happened next has been widely reported in Russia, and has been a
matter of some debate. Some observers wondered whether the villagers, including Andrei's
family, went after the group of men because they were ethnically Azeri. People from
Azerbaijan do face discrimination in Russia. Andrei, his family, and other people in the
village have always said they were offended by charges of racism and maintained that this
gang had been selling drugs in the community for a long period of time. And whether it
was part of a turf battle or an effort to intimidate, the gang made its way up this road one
evening. Neighbors saw them advancing, alerted people in Sagra, and a resident called the
police. The police never came. And when the gang members approached the outskirts of
the village, the residents were waiting, with pitchforks and hunting rifles. One gang mem-
ber died in the melee that ensued.
As with so many cases in Russia's justice system, the police made an accusation—here
blaming the villagers—and it appeared it would be an open and shut case. Viktor
Gorodilov, Andrei's father, and his fellow villagers would serve time. Andrei took time off
from work, found a lawyer, and began a public campaign to learn the truth and expose the
police who, the villagers believed, were trying to cover up their own negligence in letting
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