There’s really nothing remotely clever or interesting that I can say about Babi Yar, aside from the fact that it’s a horrifying place to visit. Family members were murdered there, along with roughly 100,000 others, and I thought I could easily compartmentalize that. After all, I never knew them, right? But Babi Yar doesn’t really work like that. It has this crackling, living aura, and you can’t keep it at an arm’s length. You duck into the warm metro afterward, but it follows you.