Summer or winter, they shine on his chest - the “USSR” script in chunky letters, the hammer-and-sickle mingling with convoluted decorations, and colored striped badges gleaming over his heart. Medals are Hasan Novruzov’s most cherished treasure.

It was a sizzling summer day and the Tbilisi metro was sweltering. A woman in her fifties looked at me and shook her head. “Poor girl,” she said in Russian.