Travel – Roosh Valizadeh

I spent five weeks in the Siberian city of Tomsk and two weeks in Moscow. Here are my thoughts:

1. Russian girls are very similar to Ukrainian girls

There are some differences, but they are so minor that you can go to Moscow having read Bang Ukraine and still know what you’re doing.

Aesthetic differences: Ukrainian girls are more petite and thin. Russian girls have thicker lips and butts. Russian girls are more varied in appearance while there is more homogeny in Ukraine. Advantage: Russia

Personality differences: Ukrainian girls have more restrained personalities upon first meeting, but when they open up, they are similar to Russian girls. Ukrainian girls will dig into my background to see if I’m a Turkish sex tourist, but most Russian girls I met didn’t do this. Advantage: Russia

Game differences: Russian girls give better initial responses to your approach and are more likely to give you their number from a shorter conversation, but are not easier to get into bed. I also experienced more flakes in Russia, meaning I had to get more numbers to schedule one date than in Ukraine. Advantage: Ukraine by a hair

2. Russia is super expensive

You will not find much in the way of value in Russia. Food and entertainment is pricey, especially in the big cities. I stayed in Moscow for 12 days and spent $2700 (that included $100 a day in lodging from Airbnb). Even a date to a basic cafe for coffee and cake will cost you about $25, as opposed to $8 in Ukraine. I calculated that I would need at least $4,000 a month in Moscow to have the lifestyle that could be had in Poland or Ukraine for about $1,500 (or less).

Russian women, while very pretty, are not significantly better than Ukrainian women to justify that expense. Polish women, while definitely not as pretty, are easier to get into bed and more easygoing. If Russia was priced the same as Ukraine or Poland, I believe that Russia would be the best choice, but we can’t exclude cost from the equation. Moscow was just as expensive to me as Washington DC, and by the end of my stay in Moscow, I couldn’t wait to leave for the sole reason of giving relief to my wallet from $7 Earl Grey teas in cafes.

3. Face control is real

Face control is where bouncers eye you up and down to see if you have the right look to enter the club. This is common even in mid-level Moscow clubs. The problem with this is that it’s hard to make a plan to be in a particular venue because you may be denied entry and have no backup.

I was face controlled twice in Moscow. Ironically, both times were when I was with a girl (she was pretty to me, but maybe not to the bouncers). When I was alone or with another guy, I was not denied entry, but I was suited up each time. In other words, to go out in Moscow I had to dress up whether I liked it or not to decrease the chance of being face controlled. This was extremely tiring because sometimes I just want to wear a v-neck and jeans and hit the bar for a couple drinks.

Face control is also a concept apparently used by Russian women. You will know within 15 seconds if she doesn’t mind your look or not. There are two foreign ideals to a Russian woman: the German ideal (fair complexion) and the Italian ideal (dark complexion). If you approach a girl with the wrong ideal, you will get nowhere, but if you have the right one, she will let you spit some game. Almost all the interactions I had in Moscow that led to at least a phone number exchange was on girls who expressed some interest in Italy, similar to how Polish girls would inquire if I was Spanish. These experiences make me wonder if game is nothing more than a tool to be used on a girl who doesn’t object to our general look.

4. Nightlife is overrated

Muscovites have a YOLO approach to partying on the weekend, drinking well past their budget and staying until the sun comes up. The ratio is pretty decent and you will see the most beautiful women in the world. The problem is that you’ll have to grind it out just as if you were in an American club. Foreigners are not especially prized and when you add in the high drink prices, which suggest that clubs are only frequented by the upper middle class, you’ll be spending a lot of time and money to in all likelihood just get a number of a slightly snobby 7 who’s not really hurting to meet men. It doesn’t help that there is no one-night stand culture where you’ll get a freebie bang every few nights out. Girls who are average looking are no easier than their hotter counterparts.

If you like clubs, you’ll have fun here, but as a way to meet women, day game is so much superior that if I lived in Moscow I wouldn’t go out much at night to meet women. Then again, I don’t really like the clubs in Ukraine either.

5. You’ll need time

Russia has the slowest sex speed I’ve encountered. I was stunned to be denied kisses on the first date by girls who would agree to a second. Many expats in Moscow I met told me that there is a run-up time of a month until the bangs start rolling in, but for a quick weekend of sex, I wouldn’t come to Russia. Focus on Scandinavia instead. We’ve all heard stories of Russian girls being promiscuous, but in my seven weeks in the country, I did not find this at all.

If you have a particular fetish for Russian women and have a large bankroll, Russia could very well be your poosy paradise, but you’d have to commit to staying. While much damage can be done in many countries from a two week stay, I’d advise you to stay at least one month in Russia. However, I can’t promise you’ll receive a great reward compared to just about anywhere else in Eastern Europe. Out of all the Eastern European countries I’ve been to, I had my lowest results in Russia, even though I’m almost conversational in Russian. Ukraine is a better place for me.

P.S. My newest book is called Poosy Paradise. It's about my three month trip to Romania in search of poosy paradise. Click here to learn more about the book.

A common belief in the manopshere is that men in Russia or Ukraine are super alpha and should be held up as examples for Western men on how to act. They take no shit from women. They are firm and direct with their demands. They ooze masculinity that women love. After living in Russia and Ukraine for over 9 months, I can safely state that the picture is more complicated than that.

Slavic men give a great veneer of alpha to a Western observer witnessing a stoic ugly dude with stiff body language walking with a hot girl, but if you dig deeper, you’ll find several beta traits. For example:

—Most are momma boys who are unable to cut the cord. It’s harder for them to live independently than a Western man.

—They are risk averse. While I’m sure you have seen crazy Youtube videos of drunk provincial Russians, educated Russians will not enter a transaction or deal with such a foolhardy or suicidal attitude. You also won’t find a Russian man decide to up and move to another country for no other reason than YOLO like many Westerners.

—They use a lot of compliments on women. They are not as profuse as Spanish and Italian men, but they are more compliment heavy than Western men. Many of them use compliments or drink buying to get conversations in the club started, with obviously no guarantee of success.

—They regularly buy their women flowers and chocolates. Because of that, girls get annoyed when I don’t do the same since it’s such a common behavior. You’re supposed to do it just because, not only for special occasions.

—They spend a lot of time in the friend zone. It’s quite common for relationships in this part of the world to start as friendship. Unlike American men, however, Russian and Ukrainian men are more likely to escape the friend zone, but it’s still not a certainty.

—They primarily want girlfriends, not notches. The guys are prone to cheat (just like their girls), but most are serial monogamists. They get a girlfriend and spend most days of the week with her, developing a co-dependent type of relationship that often leads to marriage.

On the other hand, I’m not denying their alpha traits:

—They don’t put pussy on the pedestal like Western men. They clearly have a model of abundance when it comes to women. They can have this model because beautiful women are in true abundance.

—They aren’t afraid to escalate. They will touch and try to kiss quickly, and if the girl refuses, they will feign a look of surprise that says, “Why not?” They don’t care about the responses a girl gives them during an approach. Instead, they run their game program of spitting bullshit, buying little items, complimenting, and then escalating.

I’m not saying that Slavic men are beta, but if you account for their whole being, the average Slavic man is only marginally more alpha than the average Western man. The most alpha Western men would hold their own against the most alpha Slavic men.

In Russia I met some hardcore beta males who oneitis and pedestalization problems. If you read the manosphere all day, you’d think that a Russian beta doesn’t exist, but we’re beginning to see a more hipster culture with ambiguously gay stylings entrenching itself in Moscow and St. Petersburg among the middle class. When you think of a Slavic man, you’re probably imagining a gangster, gopnik, or oligarch, but the average Russian man on the street is not a true alpha and only wants a good 9-5 job and cute girlfriend. Don’t make the mistake of viewing the absolute top Slavic men as representative of them all.

P.S. My newest book is called Poosy Paradise. It's about my three month trip to Romania in search of poosy paradise. Click here to learn more about the book.

Previously: Anna

“I kind of hope she breaks up with me,” I thought to myself, waiting for her to arrive, because I couldn’t leave her and I wouldn’t dump her. If you leave a great girl like her, and have just one bad night anywhere else in the world, in a sausage fest club with mediocre girls giving you attitude, you’ll get angry at yourself for leaving. You’ll feel despair at trading real connection and chemistry for the mere potential of having it with someone else. But if she breaks up with me, I will be free of regret and what-ifs. She made the choice, not me. I was the victim, not the perpetrator.

—

Anna picked me up from the airport when I arrived for the second time in Odessa. My flight was delayed two hours but she patiently waited for me and we embraced in the airport lobby. What a lucky man I was to simply hit the un-pause button and resume where we left off from meeting nearly a year before.

She brought me little gifts every other date, small trinkets she came across. She bought a glass and painted a design on it with a big R. She cooked soup when I was sick. She brought me sweets. She was patient, kind, funny, emotional, sexy, smart, feminine, nurturing, honest—everything a man could want, but like with every other girl, I started to get bored. When we went on the beach at night to eat cookies and drink champagne, I was ready to go home after two hours. When we went to the dolphin show, I was watching the clock while she excitedly took pictures of the imprisoned animals. I dreaded phone conversations where she would ask me what I did during my day when it was no different than the one before it. Even sex become a chore, a job. I knew her vagina inside and out. It gave me orgasms, but there was no novelty, no excitement. I had trouble reconciling my boredom with her considering she was one of the most interesting girls I’ve ever dated who put a lot of effort in bed.

We were highly compatible both physically and emotionally. She would be overbearing at times and nitpicky, but nothing that was a deal breaker, meaning it was time for the relationship to take the next step on the road to marriage. At 24, she was getting old by Ukrainian standards, and needed to lock up a man to secure her future. At 35, I was drifting from one country to the next, using sex as a means towards enlightenment and meaning but wondering why it was providing me with neither. I couldn’t shake my opposition to commitment, even though I knew Anna was a perfect match for me. In the past, I’d pass on commitment in the search for more quantity or higher quality, but in this case I didn’t care about banging any more girls or visiting any more countries since my belly was sated long ago. I just didn’t want to reduce my freedom by being locked down to one woman.

I cared about her, would fly into a rage if anyone hurt her, but I didn’t love her enough to grow old with her. More than one month into my second visit I still had not made any declaration to stay longer than my three month visa allows. She must’ve known I didn’t want more than our mini relationship.

We scheduled a date for a Wednesday night. I sat on a park bench waiting for her. I had already taken her to most of the cafes in the center, and was trying to think of where we could go or what we could do before going back to my bedroom. “I kind of hope she breaks up with me,” I thought to myself, waiting for her to arrive, but I knew she wouldn’t since I still had over a month left in the city. We’d have to wait a little while longer for a sad goodbye I’ve done so many times before with so many other girls.

She greeted me with a small kiss and I mentally logged another three-hour date where we would pass the time, entertain each other slightly, and then have one or two orgasms before I put her in a taxi. The relationship was kept in a state of purgatory, and she was fine with it. Or so I thought.

“This is our last meeting,” she said. “We’re not friends and we’re not boyfriend-girlfriend. When people ask me what you are, I don’t know what to tell them. We’re in the middle and so I have no place for you in my life. I don’t want this to continue.”

“Are you joking?” I asked. My ego refused to believe I was being dumped, even though I had just fantasized about the prospect.

“I’m not joking. I had a lot of good times with you, but this is it.”

I stared off into space. I remember the time I asked her if she wanted kids or not. She said, “Of course, I’m a woman.” I joked about impregnating her but taking absences of indeterminate length, an idea she didn’t care much for. I ignored all her hints about wanting something more stable.

After composing my thoughts, I said, “You’re making the right decision for you. I know you want a serious relationship, marriage, and kids, and I don’t want that right now.”

I was ready to reminisce about our relationship a bit, relive the good times we had, but with a stern face I had never seen before, she said “So goodbye” and turned around. No kiss, no hug. We had known each other for a year, had traveled to another country together, had shared a hundred inside jokes, had sent a thousand text messages to each other, had exchanged over a dozen thoughtful gifts, had made love dozens of times, but now I was dirt to her, someone who had no more value than a random man walking past us. I couldn’t believe she was capable of being so cold.

I walked home and ruminated about our relationship. I put on some sad love music to force any emotion to the surface, but none was coming. I wanted to care about what just happened, but she had merely denied a future that I already denied in my mind. A feeling of relief overcame me that I could buy an airplane ticket to anywhere in the world and not feel like I had destroyed the relationship, not feel like I had made one of the biggest mistakes of my life, but soon enough I’d see my rationalization for what it was, that failing to commit to her was my choice entirely.

Even after this experience, I feel no more comfortable committing to any woman. The idea of love and living happily ever after is an abstract fantasy that becomes less likely with every passing year. I’m essentially re-living the same thing over and over again, running in the same hamster wheel but in different places with different women, and soon I will meet another Anna and let her go too. How absurd it is to be so capable of meeting good women but choose loneliness instead! It’s loneliness to some, but freedom to me, and I choose this freedom over creating a family, freedom over long-term relationships with good women. And I’m prepared, I think, to live with that choice.

Read Next: In Defense Of Women

P.S. My newest book is called Poosy Paradise. It's about my three month trip to Romania in search of poosy paradise. Click here to learn more about the book.

A common question I’ve been seeing in the past six months is guys asking me which country or city they should visit. Many guys are taking their first international trip and want to make it a success, especially since they may only get one opportunity a year. While I completely understand this desire, their question can not be reasonably answered. There are simply too many individual variables involved.

When you ask someone on the internet which country he should visit, chances are he does not know your appearance, personality, game style, vibe, strengths, weaknesses, age, career background, social ability, level of masculinity, nationality, and humor type. He also doesn’t know the type of girl you’re most attracted to, which can range over several additional variables. And even if he did know all these things, there is no way he is qualified to state which country is best for you, unless you’re his sort of genetic twin.

Many years ago, I received a lot of questions from guys that went like this: “I like this one girl in school. What’s the best way to approach her?” They asked this question because they were emotionally invested in the girl and wanted to guarantee against failure. I see some similarities with guys asking me today which country they should visit. Travel can be quite expensive and so they don’t want to have a bad trip, but if you talk to any guy who has been traveling for a while in search of his poosy paradise, you’ll understand that preventing failure is impossible and simply a part of the travel game.

You will visit countries that are great to you and you will visit some that are awful, and even with my travel experience I could not prevent a disastrous summer trip to Turkey. Thousands of dollars and many weeks of time will be spent in locations that are worse than your backyard, in spite of your best efforts to prevent that from happening.

Travel is an expensive, time-consuming, and risky endeavor. It’s not for guys who are anxious about failure, because odds are you will fail, especially on your first few trips. Pick a country where you are interested in the women, where you don’t look like the local men, and try your best. It’s going to be a learning experience that may hopefully have a dose of success to make it worth it, but if you’re new to this, chances are it will not be amazing. There is no magic place that is great for everyone (some guys were miserable in countries I did well in and vice versa). There are so many individual variables that you can only use the experiences of others as an afterthought to helping you, not the main determinant. In the end, you’ll have to pick the places that you want to go and are ready to invest in.

If you like white girls, try somewhere in Eastern Europe. If you like Latin girls, try somewhere in South America. If you like Asian girls, try somewhere in Southeast Asia. You’ll have to take a stab in the dark, go somewhere, learn from that experience, and then choose again for your next trip based on the increased knowledge you now have. I can give you general travel help or share specific advice on countries I’ve been to, but when it comes to choosing, that’s your decision alone. Stop asking where to go and stop trying to guarantee against failure, because it won’t work. Take the plunge and see what happens.

P.S. My newest book is called Poosy Paradise. It's about my three month trip to Romania in search of poosy paradise. Click here to learn more about the book.

Click over to the video’s YouTube page to read the 50+ comments that have already been left. Visit my channel and hit the Subscribe button to see new clips before I drop them on the blog.

I also did a video about meeting girls in the pool.

Previous Video: The Place You Should Not Go During The Summer

P.S. My newest book is called Poosy Paradise. It's about my three month trip to Romania in search of poosy paradise. Click here to learn more about the book.

In the above video I mention that Turkish girls look very similar to Colombian girls. I made another video that tests your ability to tell the difference:

Visit my channel for some more clips.

Previous Video: I Found The Biggest Sausage Fest In The World

P.S. My newest book is called Poosy Paradise. It's about my three month trip to Romania in search of poosy paradise. Click here to learn more about the book.

In Turkey I realized that it’s becoming hard for me to travel for the sake of travel…

In a separate video, I discussed what you can do in case your summer vacation turns out to be a cockfest.

As always, visit my channel for more clips.

Previous Video: Beginners Guide To Lifting Weights

P.S. My newest book is called Poosy Paradise. It's about my three month trip to Romania in search of poosy paradise. Click here to learn more about the book.

No experience in life can take from you without also giving, and no experience can give without taking. One occurs on the surface and is easily visible, but the other takes more reflection, helping you identify the truth, meaning, and value of your life. I had a recent experience in Turkey that did this for me.

In late August I was in the resort city of Alanya, Turkey, a place that was supposed to give me a refreshing break from Eastern Europe and its women. I booked the eleven day trip soon after getting dumped by Anna, with the idea of banging slutty Scandinavian girls on vacation, but I probably did this as a response to some confusing emotions about what I really wanted from women.

The environment of Alanya for banging, it turned out, was the worst I’ve seen since visiting Bolivia back in 2007. It was worse than Washington DC, Copenhagen, and Riga, cities I’ve spared no scorn for. It was so bad I tried to change my flight to leave sooner, but since it was the absolute peak of summer, all flights back home to Ukraine were full.

The negatives of Turkey were numerous:

Complete inaccessibility of young Turkish girls. They were continually guarded by men or family members.
Nuclear bomb of horny Turkish men who approached any foreign girl regardless of her beauty.
Loud, cheesy nightlife with 4 guys for every 1 girl.
Low quality Scandinavian girls.
Extreme heat that barely tapered at night.

I knew I’d have a hill to climb in Turkey since I look Turkish (my bloodline is half Iranian and half Armenian), but I grossly underestimated how bad of a responses I’d get. I was treated by girls like a t-shirt or kebab vendor, just another brown man to brush off for the day. It didn’t help that Turkish men had great clown game, and were applying it with passion on girls I wouldn’t touch.

Even worse is that I went solo. On the handful of interactions I made progress on, I couldn’t isolate in the end. Rolling solo in a regular city isn’t so bad, but in a resort location it was the death knell. In eleven days I got nothing, and to add insult to injury, I got some type of infection that holed me up in a little hotel room for several days watching music videos and counting down to when I could return to the relative poosy paradise of Ukraine. It was the worst vacation I’ve ever taken.

If you’ve been reading me for the past couple of years, you’ll have noticed I’m not exactly sure as to the best way to proceed. Combined with the fact that I’ve accomplished what I had set out to do as dreamed by my 25-year-old self, it’s no surprise I’m lacking in direction. My experience in Turkey, along with fleeting clues I’ve recently processed in Russia, Poland, and Ukraine, has made that direction much more clear. Here is what I’m now sure of:

I no longer have the heart or will to do bang or flag missions. I’m not that pleased when I succeed or disappointed when I fail, meaning it no longer brings much value to my life.
I’m not interested in traveling alone. I’ve done it for so long, to so many countries, that I’ve passed the point of diminishing return in what it can provide me. It doesn’t help that any new country I visit simply reminds me of bits and pieces of previous countries.
I must only “travel” to scout out a location for semi-permanent living, to make a legally required border run, or to share an experience with a close male friend or female lover.
I want easy sex and a hundred notches a year from beautiful girls like any other guy, but I can no longer sacrifice quality for quantity. I’m unable to lower my standards even when inebriated. In Turkey I lowered my standards the first two nights but my game wasn’t congruent, and afterwards I felt ashamed at myself for pursuing such low talent. The notching phase of my life is over.
I prefer Eastern European girls above all overs. I did like Latin girls in the past, have banged a couple Asian girls, one black girl, and even one Indian girl, but currently have no desire or curiosity to bang them again. While some Turkish girls were very pretty, my boner is less for them than their dainty European equivalent. I plan to spend the bulk of my remaining days in Eastern Europe.
I need mini-relationships for companionship as much as access to pussy. Loneliness is getting harder to tolerate. I want someone to pass the time with once or twice a week, to brighten up the calm of my normal work week. Male friendship can fill this role also, but it’s often harder to make male friends in foreign cities than to make love with girls.

It’s not enough to state your goals, work towards them, and call it a day. Experience changes your desires and your desires affect your experiences, reacting with each other in an imperfect and unbalanced equation that can leave you absolutely sure of your direction and path one year, but lost the next. A jarring experience like the one I recently had in Turkey forced me to evaluate everything while I sat in my hotel room counting down the days until I could leave. These meditations told me to stop being so spoiled, appreciate the lifestyle that I’ve been able to build up, and to accept that the grass I’ve already found in Eastern Europe is in all likelihood the greenest based on who I am as a man.

The big problems of my life have been solved, and until those new problems appear, life will now become about receiving pleasure from dutiful work, hobbies that challenge me, and connections from both men and women. Thank you, Turkey, for helping me understand that.

Don’t Miss: Are Turkish Girls Worth It?

P.S. My newest book is called Poosy Paradise. It's about my three month trip to Romania in search of poosy paradise. Click here to learn more about the book.

Spain 2006

I flew into Barcelona for my third ever trip abroad. I stayed in a hostel, excited to be surrounded by foreigners, especially young European girls. Through sheer persistence, I was able to out-compete the other males to get a cock rub from a pretty Belgian girl on my first night there.

On the third night I came down with a horrible cold that developed quickly into a sore throat, mild fever, body aches, congestion, and headache, but I refused to stay in. Indoor smoking was allowed in Spain back then so my throat became raw and inflamed. I did not feel well.

While on a bar crawl not even halfway through the trip, someone told me that my eyes were leaking green boogers. I contracted a bad case of bacterial conjunctivitis and had to ditch my contacts. Still a travel newbie, I did not have the mind to pack my glasses. My nose was blocked, my voice was starting to descend into a croak, and I was nearly blind, unable to see clearly more than three feet in front of me. Even worse, I was developing a dry hacking cough that would give me 20 second fits, turning my whole face red. My body needed to rest.

But I did not rest and I did not stay in for one night. I was hungry to experience Europe and get action from European babes, knowing full well I’d return to Washington DC for god knows how long. As long as my heart was beating, I would keep working. I went on to get some light intimacy from three other girls, and the only thought of mine that I remember from that time was, “Why do these girls want to kiss me when it appears like I have a serious case of tuberculosis?”

When I came back from the trip, I had to visit two doctors to clear up my health issues. It took three weeks to feel right again, but I had no regrets, because the success I had, which was rather minor in hindsight, was more than enough to push me to quit my job less than one year later.

Turkey 2014

Fast forward eight years. I planned a trip to get away not from Washington DC but from Ukraine, a place that has the most beautiful girls I’ve encountered in my travels. My complaints were that they took too much time to get into bed and I was tired of speaking in Russian. I wanted something easy and more slutty. I figured that I could head to a Turkish resort town and fornicate with a handful of sloppy Scandinavian girls.

Unfortunately, one million horny Turkish men had the exact same idea as me. I became just another cock in a massive sea of cocks. My first night was tough and my second night I put in only a half-shift, coming home early because I couldn’t find many opportunities. On my third night I was ready to call it quits, and tried to change my return flight. All flights were booked, so I was forced to stay another week. I did an approach here, an approach there, but nothing that I’d consider even medium effort.

On the fifth day I contracted a cold (I always seem to get one soon after arriving in a new country). It wasn’t nearly as bad as the one I contracted in Spain, but it was the excuse I needed to cease even the minor effort I was putting in. For two days I holed myself up in my hotel room watching movies and music videos. On the seventh day I ventured out but did not do one approach. Not until my last night out did I scrounge up a bit more effort, managing seven approaches, but it wasn’t enough. I didn’t get any action at all in Turkey, eight years after a trip of similar length where I got much more. It’s true that I went to the wrong place at the wrong time, but nothing that my training and skill shouldn’t have been able to overcome.

Somebody might say, “Well, you looked better when you were younger.” I doubt it: I looked way worse in Spain than in Turkey. It’s actually a miracle in Spain I got any action at all, especially considering that by the end I sounded like a dying man. No, it’s not appearance, because even at my ugliest with a homeless Jesus look I was getting laid in Washington DC, one of the harder environments in America to score in. In Turkey I was at my peak in terms of game, wisdom, intelligence, and not that far off in terms of my peak in physical appearance, and yet I utterly bombed.

The answer lies with my desire. In the past, I was willing to do whatever it took to get laid. I have worked extremely hard at that goal and have been able to enjoy the fruit over many years, but from that fruit I have grown fat, lazy, and spoiled. My drive to work has atrophied. Consider that I booked the trip to Turkey specifically because I wanted something easy—because I didn’t want to work! Nature punished me accordingly, with not even one scrap of intimacy from a woman, not even one kiss, while in Spain it rewarded me with far more in spite of lower game, a pumpkin appearance, and bad health.

What will you do if I put a mountain in between you and your goals? Will you take a few steps up, exclaim the mountain is too tall only to turn back, or will you seek out supplies and equipment so that you can scale it? In Spain, I climbed the mountain. It was hard, and I needed a lot of time to recover, but I did it. In Turkey I looked at the mountain, complained about it, blamed Turkish men, and then sat at its base as I watched others attempt what I did not have the will to do, all because they wanted it more.

In any goal you attempt in life, you will not only encounter a mountain, but also large rivers, forests full of predators, and deserts lacking water. If your instinct is to turn back from these obstacles, I promise that you will not succeed. Any time you look for a shortcut, any time you look for a way not to work, you will fail in your goal. For me to succeed today, I don’t need more information or knowledge, but the desire of yesterday, the will to traverse anything put in front of me. Until I regain this hunger, until we all have an irrational and pathological need to succeed, until the mountain is nothing to us, we will not be victorious.

P.S. My newest book is called Poosy Paradise. It's about my three month trip to Romania in search of poosy paradise. Click here to learn more about the book.

There were a lot of negatives in my recent trip to Turkey, but a positive was being able to witness how Turkish men work in groups to get laid. For men who are not allowed to pick up their local women due to cultural and social barriers, I was duly impressed with their wingmanship and coordination. I will now attempt to dissect the game and wingman ability of Turkish men.

1. They go out in groups of at least three, with defined roles for each member

One guy is the “translator,” meaning he has the best English and facilitates conversation with foreign women. Another is the “lead clown” with the best energy and dance skills. And yet another is the “bouncer” who keeps an eye on outsider men and informs the group of any possible intruders. Instead of all the guys in the group running game independently without accounting for what their wings are doing, Turkish men maximize their individual strengths to ensure group success. There is no lone wolf game—it’s a team effort.

2. Approach targets simultaneously with overwhelming power

There’s not much subtlety about the Turkish approach. As if performing a blitzkrieg attack, they all go in simultaneously to announce to the women that they have arrived and are definitely in pursuit. They begin smiling, touching, and joking almost immediately, usually with a plan to get the girls dancing as quickly as possible. Their initial game is heavily based on the physical.

3. Keep targets primarily entertained with dancing

Long chats in the club are not what Turkish men prefer. While they are actually able to run this type of game, their go-to weapon at night is the dance floor. Many of them dance surprisingly well, practicing for years as teenagers to Turkish music until making the switch to more mainstream house and hip hop. Since women are in the club to primarily dance, their strategy yields results.

4. View all non-Turkish women as sluts

Turkish men understand that the true value of foreign women, especially from the West, is to serve as sex dolls. They don’t insult these girls or call them names, but through their actions, they make it clear that sex is the goal on their mind. They may lie to women about wanting to take trips with them, among other beta declarations, but it is just to build comfort after attraction is established. They have in fact no desire to wife up these girls and simply want to use them for the sexual release that they can not have with their own women.

5. Immediately engage and neutralize any threat

Turkish men keep an eye on other men just as much as the women. They fully understand that any fish they catch must be kept clear from the hooks of other fishermen. One thing they do is position themselves around women they are talking to in a way that completely blocks any other man who may want to try an approach.

If a man does penetrate through their defenses, they immediately re-group to eject him, either by distracting him (with the same energy they use on the girls), or getting the bouncer of the group to deliver a not-so-subtle admonishment of “these girls are with us.” It’s extremely effective since it doesn’t rely on the kindness of women to be cold to interloping men.

I’m in full agreement with their strategy here: if you’re just starting a conversation with a girl in a club, you must immediately shut down any attempts by strange men, even if it makes you look needy. Only when a girl’s attraction for you is solid can you be more aloof.

6. Do not approach women who are with men

There is a scrap of honor among Turkish men in that they don’t interrupt you if you’re talking to a girl (as long as you appear Turkish). I have not seen them try to pull a robbery, as horny as they are. In a club I saw a Turkish man inform a random German man that his girl is wandering off and needed to be watched more carefully. I’ve never seen that type of behavior in America. It’s strange that Turkish men are more thirsty on the surface than American guys, but they are much more averse to cockblocking or watching another guy’s girl get stolen.

7. Make all girls in the group feel like princesses, no matter how ugly

There’s taking one for the team, and then there’s the Turkish version of it. I have seen good looking Turkish men wing their brothers with horrendous women—all night long. I’ll talk to the ugly girl for 10 minutes or so to help my buddy out while a Turkish man stays with the grenade for the whole night and with such an energy that it appears he really does like her, even though it is a physical impossibility due to her monstrous appearance.

Turkish men take bros before hoes to a level I haven’t seen, and as long as one girl in a group is pretty, all the men will give it their all on each of her friends. It gets to the point where if the hottest girl wants to leave, the ugly ones will convince her to stay because they are being pursued so vigorously by men who are much more handsome than they are pretty.

8. Supply drinks without going nuts

Turkish men aren’t so needy that they are buying drinks all night long, but they definitely do try to lock down girls with a strategic purchase of a bottle of liquor. Their funds are lower than other European players, so they have to pool their money to keep the party going, which is why you tend to see them in packs. It’s another example of working in groups to minimize individual weakness.

9. No doesn’t mean no

They don’t accept the first no that a girl gives them, even if it’s absolutely certain to an outside observer that that no won’t be changed. This feature of their game, more than anything else, has given them a bad reputation as hyper-persistent, and even I don’t see its effectiveness.

While persisting past a no late in the game when you’re close to sex is important, Turkish men ignore no’s that come right upon the approach, and once in a set with a girl, they will not leave unless the girl pushes him away or ignores him completely. This can be painful to watch, and even worse is that you know the girl will be much less receptive if you approach her afterwards because the Turk put her in a more sour mood.

10. Victory is had if only one man of the group gets laid

Their goal isn’t necessarily for all men of the group to get laid—it’s just for one member to score. If he is successful, on the next night he’s going to sacrifice several hours with the ugliest beast in the bar so that his boy can get laid. They have a complete selflessness that I haven’t seen in other men, all because they see getting laid as a long-term team effort instead of a short-term individual sport. The sacrifice they make for their fellow man is admirable.

Watching groups of Turkish men in a club is like witnessing a coordinated dance. If you’re solo in a club with a lot of Turkish men, you should consider leaving. The synergy they bring forth makes it hard to compete and they greatly increase the bitch shield of women they fail with. The only problem with adopting Turkish game is that it clashes with a Western man’s individualistic values. We’re too selfish to sacrifice entire nights on nuclear grenades, especially since the idea of friendship and loyalty in the West is not what it once was. In the USA, it’s more likely to happen that you sacrifice for your friend one night and then the next night he gets overly drunk and inadvertently becomes a cockblocker. In Turkey this simply does not occur.

From watching them work, I must say that their overall game is better than Spanish men, who have become pussified in the past decade, though not yet better than Italian men. I haven’t seen non-whoremonger Greek men in action but I assume they would place somewhere in the middle in a ranking of Mediterranean lotharios.

Turkish men get a bad reputation in the world, but they do some things that are worth emulating when operating in a club with friends. Nonetheless, let’s count our blessings that we are not in Turkey and have to rely solely on foreign women to get laid.

Don’t Miss: Are Turkish Girls Worth It?

P.S. My newest book is called Poosy Paradise. It's about my three month trip to Romania in search of poosy paradise. Click here to learn more about the book.

I recently spent 11 eternal days in Alanya, Turkey, a resort that is two hours away by bus from Antalya. Unfortunately for me, the trip was worse than my previous European summer excursions to Hvar, Croatia, and Odessa. Actually, it was worse than just about anywhere I’ve been in the past five years, even Riga, Copenhagen, and Washington DC. If you’re considering a summer trip to Turkey, you need to keep the following in mind:

1. There are a lot of horny Turkish guys

In spite of any propagandic notion from the American media that Turkey is Westernizing, the sex roles remain nearly as strict and traditional since Ataturk’s time. There is little casual sex or dating. Instead of one-night stands you have six-month stands, where you commit before fornicating. Turkish men are also not allowed to “pick up” Turkish girls because word may get back to their relatives, in which case they’d be shamed by their elders.

If a Turkish man doesn’t have a steady girlfriend with the intent to marry her, his dick is cleaner than the air in space. Foreign girls are his best shot at getting laid at all, and the cheapest option for him is to take a bus to a Turkish resort and go full retard on foreign girls. These men want it way more than you.

2. There are not a lot of Turkish girls to meet

Most are with their families or boyfriends, and the ones you see at night tend to be older than 30 (Turkish spinsters, I imagine). Your best shot at approaching younger Turkish girls in Alanya is during the day, when they are allowed by their parental units to take short trips to the store, but since she is lodging with her family, you have small odds at isolating her at night.

Younger girls in clubs are heavily guarded by male friends and relatives (one night I was threatened by a Turkish guy in Turkish when I approached a Turkish girl). As long as these guardians are around, she won’t entertain your approach.

3. It’s incredibly hot and humid

The temperature during the day reaches over 95. You won’t want to do much besides sit under the air conditioner or go in the water, but even the latter provides little relief. I began to think it was a bit silly to pay a lot of money to bake underneath a sun that prevents you from enjoying whatever activity you end up doing. I can understand why the Scandinavians do it, since their winter lasts eleven or so months a year, but I’m not exactly hurting for sun.

4. Most of the foreign girls are Swedish fatties

I think I’ve done a poor job killing the false stereotype that Swedish girls are blonde bombshells. While their genetics are pristine, modern Swedish girls look like tattooed burritos. The most beautiful girl in the world is probably Swedish, but her more numerous variant—the chubby Swedish girl with burly shoulders and a rectangle face—disgraces her ancestral line. Nonetheless, you’ll never see a Turkish man pass on a Swedish girl, no matter how grotesque and vile. That makes me wonder if Turkey is a backup plan for white women who can’t compete in their own lands.

5. The most beautiful girls are Russian, but they are rarely accessible

They tend to vacation through package deals that put them in all-inclusive resorts far from the center. Most of them travel with their boyfriends and families, though once in a while you can catch a pair of above-average Russian girls in the club until the hotel bus driver comes to fetch them when you’re only halfway through your seduction.

I’ve heard second-hand stories of Russian girls going crazy on vacation, but I’ve yet to see this. And get this: many Turkish guys speak Russian. Nothing stops them from getting at girls of different nationalities. I’m convinced they study Swedish, Russian, and English in the off-season when they have to power down their penis for the winter months.

6. Do NOT come to Turkey if you look anything like me

If you can pass for Spanish, Greek, or Italian, you will be dime a dozen here. It doesn’t help that many Turkish guys are quite good looking with decent style, fashionable haircuts, and big muscles, suggesting that Turkish man are catching up with their Mediterranean counterparts. You get absolutely no exotic boost if you’re a swarthy man, and girls will think you’re just another desperate Turk, making them the prize while you beg for scraps.

Even if you’re a blonde alabaster man, you still have to work hard, because the environment is such that girls can pick and choose which men they want to talk to, and that’s even assuming they are still in the mood to chat after being approach by ten Turkish men who instantly go physical and don’t like taking no for an answer.

7. The best chance at meeting girls is from your hotel

My first two nights out I couldn’t find many opportunities on decent girls. I spent some afternoons at the pool and had far better interactions, but quality was still a problem. If I were to do it all over again, I would just book a room in the largest resort around, even if it’s far from the center, and just game all day in the pool.

8. Turkish men can be charming, fun, and warm

These guys have great rapport game in that you feel comfortable with them quickly. Funny thing is that I thought my mom was just hating on me when I was teenager by saying I was “cold” like my dad, but she’s absolutely right—compared to the average Turkish man I’m robotic and boring. This is probably why I passed on South America to live in Eastern Europe, where people better match my demeanor.

9. Alcoholic drinks are unreasonably expensive

The going rate for a vodka on the rocks in most nightclubs is $10 US. If you’re Turkish, however, you get a lower rate from a secret menu that tourists don’t have access to. You can probably also skip out on some club cover charges while tourists can’t.

10. It’s as touristy as they come

The locals see you as a wallet, in spite of their smiles and physical affection. The Turks have optimized their tourism game to extract money from you in the most efficient way possible. Besides the five times daily call for prayer and a million kebab shops, there isn’t much room left for authentic Turkish culture.

Conclusion

I took this trip while I was living in Odessa. I went from a place with extremely high talent to one that had little. I had not much choice but to use this trip more as an opportunity to relax, practice making Youtube videos, and meditate on how insanely lucky I am to live in Eastern Europe where the women enjoy my company, are exceedingly pretty, and are often open to making sexual communion with me.

I can only recommend Turkey to average women who want to feel pretty and couples who want a romantic getaway. Unless you find a secret resort hotel or spot where you know the pickings will be good, you take a huge risk by going here in the summer.

Don’t Miss: 10 Things Turkish Men Do To Get Laid

P.S. My newest book is called Poosy Paradise. It's about my three month trip to Romania in search of poosy paradise. Click here to learn more about the book.

I’ve recently written of my intense disappointment in returning to a country in which the women and culture are becoming more like what we have in America. Here are six negative changes I’ve noticed in Poland since my first visit in 2011:

1. More tattoos

Young men and women are disfiguring themselves with the typical sort of tattoo scribbles that is already epidemic in America. Polish people are deciding to pursue their individualist side by permanently drawing obnoxious things on their body instead of actually achieving something worthwhile that makes them superior to the common man.

2. More ear gauges

Tattoos are tame compared to the sudden, prevalent, and frankly shocking use of ear gauges, whereby people irreversibly stretch and mutilate their ear lobes to appear cool. While it’s possible for the occasional tattoo to look good, ear gauges never look good, and make it seem like the victim is hoping to gain membership in a backwards jungle tribe that has yet to encounter electricity. Since tattoos and ear gauges go hand in hand, you can only imagine the freakshows Poland now has on display.

3. More in-your-face homosexual behavior

Displaying your homosexuality used to be culturally forbidden and even dangerous in an former Soviet satellite like Poland, but you’re starting to see an increase in guys who are gay, proud, and loud. Just last month for the first time in Eastern Europe ever I saw two men passionately kissing in front of a pizza shop. If what’s happening on USA soil is any indication, being gay in Poland will soon be seen as hip, trendy, and progressive. Both men and women will experiment with it, as if catching a sort of virus, and step back from more traditional and humanizing features of Polish culture that have historically been centered around religion.

4. More binge drinking

The only country I had to do the ‘vomit slalom’ was Iceland. This is where I had to look down while walking around the club district at night during the weekend so I didn’t step in vomit because of how common Icelanders puke on the street. This didn’t use to be needed in Poland, but now it does.

Both men and women are competing to consume near-lethal amounts of alcohol while partying. This is so consistent, especially among the men, that a good way I display value to women is to simply be sober at 3am and speak in complete sentences without slurring or swaying my body, but now even girls have so taken to drink that it’s getting harder to have normal conversations with them in night venues than in the recent past.

5. More smartphone addiction

The technology virus has infected Poland. Most Poles who own a smartphone are unable to endure a minute or two of downtime without obsessively checking something on their phone or distracting themselves with music. A girl who would normally look up to the person who walked into the room is now looking through her Facebook account or playing a silly game, oblivious to her surroundings. While girls don’t yet have multiple online dating accounts, that’s just a matter of time.

Human interaction in Poland is being steadily replaced by technology that has America’s narcissistic and brain-dead ways of behaving built right into the device. No formal learning required.

6. More career-obsessed women

Polish women have always been feminist in that they wanted their own career alongside family, but now they are throwing family under the bus. I’ve begun noticing Polish girls shaming their friends who decide to get married early, something you would never see in Ukraine and Russia.

Even worse is that I’m encountering a lot of Polish girls who speak of long-term travel and “Euro trips.” While it’s possible for men to find themselves through travel, the only thing a girl finds is exotic cock. Polish girls are racing to become corporate whores at the same time they’re becoming actual whores for sexy Mediterranean men who spit a smooth game.

What amazes me is the speed at which a culture can degrade. I was so unsure that the observations above were objective that I had to discuss them with other men to be sure—both Polish and foreign. They’ve confirmed that the changes I’ve seen are really occurring, that Poland is adapting the worst of the West and that there isn’t much to be done about it. The women will lead the way to the bottom and the men will have no choice but to keep up with them in order to squeeze out the last drop of genuine intimacy left before Western degeneracy crushes them completely.

There is no stopping the decline of the sort that Poland is experiencing. It’s too hard to change the minds of a large percentage of the population who have been deceived in thinking that the West’s soulless value system is their path to happiness and riches. When they approach the end of the rainbow they’ll be surprised to find that there is no pot of gold, and that they’ve lost what can never be regained.

P.S. My newest book is called Poosy Paradise. It's about my three month trip to Romania in search of poosy paradise. Click here to learn more about the book.

I went to New York recently for a two night “business” trip. As short as it was, I kept my eyes open to digest as much as I could about the city and its people. Here are a few observations I made:

1. You see the grind in people’s eyes

Unlike in Washington DC, you can clearly feel the harsh effects of the city on the people. Based on how expensive it is to live in New York, to have a good life you have to work like a dog with little in the way of breaks for reflection or relaxation. I suspect that a lot of people are living paycheck to paycheck without much in savings, and so are committed to this grind whether they like it or not. The allure of living in New York has essentially captured their body and turned them into a human mule that must never stop laboring and hustling. I observed the same with people in Moscow.

If a New Yorker’s income goes up, they invariably increase the standard at which they live to keep up with the Joneses, so it seems that even if you “win” in New York by getting a job that pays at least $150,000 a year, you still lose in the sense that you won’t accumulate much in the way of wealth, and will be two or three months away from destitution if you happen to lose your job and have trouble finding a new one.

A lot of people have asked me, “Roosh, how you can play the game for so many years without getting tired of it?” Because my job is not a grind, and chasing pussy will never approach the level of grind of labor. I can stay in the game because my life is mostly free of stress in other areas, meaning I can tolerate the high amounts of nonsense I get from pursuing women for the length of time I have. If you’re getting worn down by your job, you will have little leftover for the other grinds that come with a man’s ambitious desires.

2. Smartphones are now a integral part of people’s lives

While walking around New York, I was paranoid of getting hit by a car, so I looked both ways before crossing streets and generally followed the “Don’t Walk” signals. I was shocked to see so many people walking while texting in such an environment. I don’t know how often pedestrians get hit in New York, but it seemed like they were putting their lives in danger.

In the cafes I went to, it was a rule that everyone was staring at their iphone or tablet screen, and even in meetings between friends, a person would keep one eye on their friend and one eye on their phone. The smartphone is now a conversational aid, crutch, and prop that must be nearby to show a picture, news article, status update, or map. Conversations with friends have become multimedia presentations. I’ve railed against smartphones in the past, but they are now too intertwined in the social fiber of America that nothing much can be done about the problem.

A lot of guys are capitalizing on smartphones by mastering dick pic game or using high-tech bots on popular dating apps, but there is no joy for me to use such a device beyond a basic business or communication need, so I accept I will miss out on some sexual benefits from its widespread use.

3. Made men have it best

If you want to live in this city and enjoy it to the fullest, you should already come as a made man with over $300,000 a year in income or a couple million in the bank. Of course you can live in New York for a fraction of that, and find a niche that does give you happiness, but New York allows you to live a regal lifestyle if you have the bankroll.

In the Polish city I’m in, doubling my income would not change my lifestyle one bit, because the city does not have the amenities, Dubai whores, or luxury accommodations that the money could obviously be spent on. The most expensive club cover charge I’ve found is $13 and a cocktail drink price never passes $10.

If you decide to live in New York, there are two options that await you:

a) Become a part of the grind for a short period. Get a humble apartment, work for the man, count your quarters, and squeeze in some easy bangs. After a year or two, when you realize you’ve saved no money and have few—if any—deep relationships, go somewhere else to achieve more financial independence and a higher level of social meaning that takes you away from more shallow pursuits.

b) Accumulate further wealth on top of your already high wealth. Let New York live for you instead of you living for New York. Live like a modern king with a lifestyle that your ancestors couldn’t even dream of.

While my income is high enough to live in New York on favorable terms, my financial cushion would be shrunk to such a degree that I wouldn’t be entirely comfortable.

4. The girls are way better than in Washington DC

My sample size is tiny due to the shortness of my trip (about 10 approaches), but the positive reactions I got from those 10 in an eight-hour period surpass near all the approaches I did in Washington DC for an entire month when I visited last year.

The girls I approached were insanely receptive and genuinely wanted to talk to me. We say in these parts that girls have a lot of options thanks to internet dating while losing the ability to have a conversation if we approach them, but it seems that in New York the dating market is exceptional in some ways due to local demographic conditions and the fact that straight man act effeminate. The girls seem to be craving a confident guy who doesn’t put them on the pedestal and has internationally renowned clown banter.

Not a single girl blew me out, insulted me, or hit me with a feminist talking point. Only one girl looked at her iphone during the conversation. They asked me plenty of personal questions. They did way more talking and helped move the communication forward. One 22-year-old girl approached me in the bar and let me escort her away from her friends for a sloppy make-out session (to be young again!). Another girl gave me her number and then sent me a text asking for a date the next night. The interactions stalled, sadly, when girls found out I was a tourist and staying in a hotel, especially since a couple of those girls would have needed a date to take the intimacy further.

Again, the sample size is small, so no grand conclusions can be made, but if I can duplicate this reception just once in a while, that means girls in New York like me more than girls in Poland. In Poland, a huge number of girls are already in a serious relationship and aren’t as eager to upgrade, so most of my approaches stall for that reason alone. In New York, it seemed that every girl I talked to was sexually available from not being in a serious relationship.

This may be my ego talking, but I’m confident I can get both higher quality and quantity in New York than in my current city in Poland. This isn’t due to just me but the local conditions where New York girls are ready for sex with a mature man who doesn’t act like a fag. It was also interesting to note that girls give quite a bit of eye contact, possibly just as much as in Poland.

Upon returning to Poland, I did a batch of ten approaches and had lower results than the ten in New York. One girl in Poland even rolled her eyes at me, a harsh response that a New York girl did not once give. Poland was amazing for me in 2011, but it’s clear that the tide has turned, and the benefit it offers for me has become mostly financial.

Is Repatriation Now On The Table?

It’s interesting to note that one of the reasons I left the USA is to get a better standard of woman, but it seems that I may have passed a point where I can now do better in New York than abroad. My years of international experience has possibly made me a more attractive catch back in the States. I would have to stay much longer to be sure, but the idea of living in a Western city like New York wouldn’t be a nightmare scenario like in the past.

I calculated that I would need at least $6,000 a month cash to transfer my current lifestyle from Poland to New York, which is four times what I’m currently spending now. Even with that amount, I’d still have to watch my budget and be careful about buying too many rounds of drinks for my friends when I’m in a nice bar and having fun, unlike in Poland where I can make it rain all night without any concern. I would receive two main immediate benefits if I lived in New York: (1) unlimited options for entertainment and easy fornication, and (2) a large social circle of male peers.

The second reason appeals the most to me, but such friendships will invariably entail late nights out, excessive alcohol use, and chasing women. I wonder if it’s a good idea to slip back into that lifestyle, one that I already did before. At nearly 36 years of age, will pursuing more notches and going out to bars three times a week really give me more in life than focusing on my work and being alone in a tame Polish city? As you know, sequels are never better than the original, so I wonder how quickly I’d get tired of it.

I believe New York would cause me to regress into a pursuit of hedonistic delights of the flesh and drink without furthering my development as a man. While my current Polish city is not a village by any means (the metro area has a population of 1 million), it’s harder to lose focus here than in New York, and I’m afraid that my horny constitution is not yet strong enough to resist the unlimited pleasures that New York would offer me.

I know more than anyone that a city or country can change rapidly. As I’ve shared recently, Polish culture is currently on the decline along with most other parts of Eastern Europe. It may happen within 2-5 years where Poland degrades to such a point that I must move to another area of the world. Eastern Europe may merely be a way station for a destination I do not yet know. I’m not sure what the future will hold, but this is the first year since I left the States over five years ago that the idea of moving back wouldn’t fill me with reluctance and dread.

If I ever do move to New York, and it’s not a temporary plan, you can interpret that as me giving up on all notion of ever having a family of my own. It means I must have decided that during the period of humanity I happen to exist in, a life of expensive pleasure is the best outcome to pursue.

P.S. My newest book is called Poosy Paradise. It's about my three month trip to Romania in search of poosy paradise. Click here to learn more about the book.

In the spring I went to New York City for two days to appear on the Dr. Oz show. The trip was fun enough that I wondered if maybe I should consider living in the city, but a more recent trip of four days destroyed that notion. When not on a psychological high from appearing on national television, all the flaws of New York hit me hard enough that I’m sure it won’t be my future home. Here are the reasons why…

1. It smells

It’s hard to walk more than two blocks without being assaulted by an offensive odor, either from sewage or garbage. One of the reasons is that New York doesn’t put their garbage in containers to lessen the odors. Third world sanitation practices haven’t yet made its way to the city.

2. It’s loud

Have you not had a headache in a while? Would you like your mind to be constantly drowned out by loud noise from trains, cars, and crowds of people? Then move to New York where even in the middle of the night you will not escape the city that never stops honking. The only way to combat New York noise is through more noise, so people are essentially forced to wear headphones with loud music for much of the day. This greatly degrades their ability to think.

3. Walk, stop, wait

A huge chunk of your waking life in New York City can be boiled down to three words: walk, stop, wait. You walk a little while, you stop, and then you wait. You repeat this procedure more than 200 times a day. Just walking to the coffee shop nearby will involve at least ten instances of walking, stopping, and waiting. I can’t understand why human beings would want to be so deliberately herded around in such a manner.

4. The city is a mechanism for shearing sheep

Speaking of herding, the program operating in New York is this: a herd of people assemble into one location, “graze” on a product or service, then move on to the next grazing ground where they consume some more. The only catch is that each field they graze on gives them a haircut by taking their money (or at least tries to).

Many sheep spend time on a crowded subway car where they graze for a bit, exposing themselves to advertisements. Then they move to the hip Mexican joint. They graze there, spending $10 on a sandwich that photographs well on Instagram but is quite small and will require another feeding shortly. Then they go to the bar with their friends to graze but that gets boring quickly so they need to migrate after half an hour to another bar. Then they need to eat at a late-night joint. People in New York are constantly shuffled from one grazing pen to the next in a very literal sense.

Sheep hate being alone, so they actively seek out other sheep as a sign that the grazing ground is good. This is why so many New Yorkers will try to compliment a place by saying “It’s always crowded.” So you have sheep telling other sheep where it’s worth making donations of their wool, and the pattern continues every day. In fact, the crowdedness of the city itself is what entices so many South American and European sheep to move here (sheep must be around other sheep). You will never meet someone in New York who says “I like being alone” or “I don’t care for going out.” The city attracts people who get bored easily and need to follow the herd, while simultaneously convincing them that they are different from millions of others who are doing the exact same thing.

What got me is how efficient this machine is. Without even trying, money is escaping my pocket even though I had no need that required spending it. It just happens in New York that the only way to have “fun” is to spend quite a bit of money, if not on food and alcohol then on drugs and events. Going for a walk in Europe usually costs $0 but doing so in New York will involve a minimum of $40 and the inability to fully recall where it was all spent. The city put me in a capitalist hypnotic state where I wanted to give away my money as quickly as possible.

5. Relationships are sterile

It seems to be a rule that every girl who lives here is on birth control, meaning that you are also on low doses of birth control—and anti-depressants—if you just consume the city water. If you get into a relationship with a female resident, you definitely won’t be placed above her “lifestyle” or career, and the word I’m getting from guys who live here is that relationships are short indeed. If people love being herded from one grazing ground to the next, it’s no surprise that they also perform the same behavior with their lovers. If you live in New York, it’s impossible not to have a neverending string of casual relationships. You’ll need to sleep with at least ten people to have something resembling a normal relationship with one.

You’ll also have a dozen two minutes conversations per day that result in absolutely nothing, where you’re meeting people just for the sake of meeting people. And then you run into these people at some point in the future and wonder, “Where did I meet this person again?” Because there are so many human options, your brain gets quickly re-wired to be overly picky about who you develop relationships with, meaning that in a city where you are surrounded by millions, you’re intensely lonely.

6. It’s too diverse

Do people like diversity because of a natural urge within them or because they were told to like it? Some diversity is healthy but New York takes it to an extreme where you’re everywhere and nowhere at the same time. It’s just too mentally taxing to try connecting with people that come from entirely different places and backgrounds. Without strong physical attraction or a mutual shared interest, no friendship or love will result. When you’re young, meeting thousands of people a year from “all over the world” can be exciting, but if you already know the type of person you connect with best, it would be smarter to surround yourself with only those people.

My conclusion of New York is that it’s a great place where sheep can get slowly fleeced while thinking they are living in paradise because of the many food, entertainment, and human options on offer. The constant noise and action of the city makes it impossible for them not to think too deeply about their lives, but to work hard for money that they will immediately be donating back to the many wolves that prowl the grazing grounds.

For a man under 30 years old, I can see how this city could benefit his hustle and game, but after that it seems to be a way to limit a man’s self development by keeping him on a nonstop treadmill that lacks much in the way of deeper meaning or fulfillment. While there was a point I wondered if New York was right for me, I’m absolutely certain now that it’s not.

P.S. My newest book is called Poosy Paradise. It's about my three month trip to Romania in search of poosy paradise. Click here to learn more about the book.

One of the reasons that Poland is on the decline is because young Polish women are buying into Western pro-sterility ideas, choosing to spend the bulk of their good years searching for stable office work and reality show excitement instead of trying to secure a good man to start a family with. This fact is confirmed by the increased percentage of girls I’m meeting who are on birth control even though they are not in a serious relationship. The current social justice Pope has so far not objected to their newfound lifestyle.

I’m sure that in ten years you won’t even have to ask a Polish girl if she’s on birth control, just like in America. They’ll all be on it by default, eagerly ravaging their endocrine systems just to maximize the sexy men they can fuck without consequences. To document this problem, I went on the streets of Poznan to ask both Polish men and women what they wanted in life. If Polish society was healthy, men would claim they want a good job (to take care of their family) while women would claim they want a good man. Watch for yourself:

It never happened that a woman first stated she wanted a good family before her job, and the more attractive the girl, the more likely family wasn’t even in the answer, mostly because she was already on the carousel and having way too much fun. It’s easy to see how the elite designed their cultural programs to get to the women before the men, who stare off longingly into space when talking about creating their own nuclear families.

There are two roads any society can now take: sterility or life. If a society is promoting women to work, consume entertainment, engage in promiscuity, take birth control, and practice abortion, they are promoting sterility, broken societies, and a guaranteed decrease in birth rates. If a society promotes family, belief in a higher power to help tame hedonistic urges, monogamy, patriarchy, and female housekeeping skills, they are promoting life, healthy societies, and an increase in birth rates.

If you are a young man who needs to sleep with over 100 fast girls like I did then you want to put yourself in a country that promotes and values sterility. When you’ve had your fill of that, and it’s time to move to a country that promotes life, you will find better places than Poland.

P.S. My newest book is called Poosy Paradise. It's about my three month trip to Romania in search of poosy paradise. Click here to learn more about the book.

With the recent conflict in Ukraine, spurred on by US government involvement, it appears that one of the more consistent poosy paradises for Western men is on a definite geopolitical decline. Here are five things I noticed after spending one week in Kiev this spring:

1. Western ideas are starting to infect the minds of Ukrainians

While still at a low level, you’re starting to hear more buzz words from the government and cultural elite about “equality,” “openness,” and “opportunity.” Even though there is more nationalism in the sense that people firmly believe in the Ukrainian nation, Ukrainians are buying into the degenerate cultural package that Brussels and Washington are selling. To be like the successful countries of Western Europe, they are told, a good start is to let homosexuals parade on the streets, which happened over the summer.

Oligarch Petro Poroshenko’s support of homosexuals was the first time ever that a Ukrainian leader openly endorsed butt sex. It’s no surprise that he has unwavering support from the US State Department.

2. Women don’t want to live in Ukraine

The great exodus of Ukrainian women has accelerated. Unlike my previous trips, women are no longer playing coy about wanting to live in the West, and are stating it quickly after you meet them. I can see this firsthand in Poland, which has a steady influx of Ukrainians. In no uncertain terms, Ukraine is a failed state that does not have the confidence of its young people, particularly women, and they will now eager seek relationships with foreign men who hold the olive branch of getting them out.

In the past, you would have to “sell” to most women that you like Ukraine and want to stay in order to get into relationships with them, but now that will actually hurt you, because what deranged soul would want to stay in a collapsing nation? The optimum game has become saying that you don’t like Ukraine and can’t wait to return to your comfortable middle-class Western home, one that needs a good woman.

Don’t Miss: American Girls vs Ukrainian Girls

3. Women still want long-term relationships

Be default, Ukrainian women want long-term relationships. You can of course extract easy sex from the more promiscuous class of Ukrainian women, but going to Ukraine for easy sex is the same as going to America to find a wife—it’s possible but a foolish choice. If you’re horny and want sex, go to Poland instead, where the quality is lower but the women are faster. For relationships and marriage, Ukraine is a better bet. Looking back, it was silly of me to go to Ukraine while I was still in my humping phase.

4. Women don’t want an office career

The job market is so hopeless in Ukraine, with practically no chance of upward social mobility, that you won’t find any girl who tells you her dream is establishing a “career” for several years before finding a husband. Girls go to school because there isn’t anything else to do or just to buy time, because they know that their main asset is their womb. This is quite refreshing because Poland is stock full of ambitious women who will dedicate over a decade of their lives to push paper for a corporation instead of finding out how to develop themselves in a way that serves men. The masculinization of Polish women is frightening indeed.

5. The worst Ukrainian girls go to nightclubs

One of the reasons that my first trip to Ukraine wasn’t as good as the subsequent trips is that I initially focused almost exclusively on meeting women in clubs. What I didn’t realize then that I do now is that only a certain type of Ukrainian woman goes to clubs. This is obvious after realizing how few clubs per capita there are in Ukraine compared to Western cities.

For example, the city of Kharkov has a city population similar to Washington DC but less than 5% the number of nightlife venues. This tells you that the far majority of Ukrainian girls don’t even go out at night. It’s not something they experience outside of random birthday parties, and when they do, it’s definitely not meet a random cock to take home.

If you want to meet a decent Ukrainian girl, don’t go to nightclubs. You meet only a certain type of girl that clouds your judgement on them as a whole. You should instead try to meet girls through social or professional circles.

Even day game, which works in Ukraine, still selects for a certain type of girl, because the culture there is such that meeting a random guy off the street is simply not normal. It’s no surprise that the type of Ukrainian girls that Western men meet through day game are often the ones who like to go out at night, travel, talk to foreign men, and so on. That said, day game in Ukraine is still a fine way to meet a great girl, but the more integrated you are into a social circle there, the better woman you’ll get.

What lies for the future of Ukraine?

It’s clear that Ukraine, as it exists today, can not survive without USA money and support. The separatists in the East control big chunks of important industry and the economy has essentially ground to a halt. Smart Ukrainians are looking for the exits and only those in the Western part of the country, seduced by the idea of Ukrainian patriotism (and power), think there is any hope for the future. Once the incompetent political elite in the USA is finished destroying Ukraine like it has done to so many countries in the Middle East, there won’t be much left.

Ukraine was never a comfortable place to live, but now it’s pretty tough, and no one there will understand why you choose to spend time there. You’d have to straight-up be an oddball to want to stay in the shithole that Ukraine is becoming just to get laid, and telling a girl that you “love” Ukraine just won’t be believed anymore. That said, it’s easier now than ever for you to pluck a Ukrainian beauty and get her out of there, but of course that leaves a big question mark for what could happen if you bring her into the West, where her diabolical Slavic genes could be switched on to your detriment.

Unless you are looking for a serious relationship, I can’t think of a reason to spend much time in Ukraine. It’s not stable, the women are leaving in droves, and it’s just not a pleasant place to live (as if it ever was). With talk that within a year or two Ukrainians will join the Muslim invaders in being allowed visa-free travel to anywhere in Europe, that means that glory days of going to Ukraine for some fun is coming to an end.

Read Next: 25 Photos Of Pretty Ukrainian Girls

P.S. My newest book is called Poosy Paradise. It's about my three month trip to Romania in search of poosy paradise. Click here to learn more about the book.

I’ve been writing about America and its culture for over a decade, but I’m afraid I’m not as knowledgeable about the entire country as I would like to be. Nearly all of my experiences come from Washington DC and New York City, two cities that are distinct from the rest of the nation. While there is great overlap between them and other American cities, the differences are significant enough that an American man may choose to not write off the country completely.

In my recent Midwest tour I spent time in five cities:

Sioux Falls, South Dakota
Omaha, Nebraska
Lincoln, Nebraska
Kansas City, Missouri
Oklahoma City, Oklahoma

Here’s my video report:

The big outlier is Kansas City, a multicultural and generic city. If someone blindfolded you and dropped you there, you would have difficulty identifying which city it is since it serves as a template for Any Mega City, USA. Because of the high numbers of Hispanics and blacks, I felt like I was in a slightly safer Baltimore.

The rest of the cities can be somewhat generalized as one, even though there are certainly differences between them. Here is what I noticed about the Midwest, excluding Kansas City:

Very high white population

In Nebraska and South Dakota, you can go a long time without seeing a minority. In fact, I was the darkest person in the many venues I stepped foot into. I was actually amazed that parts of America could be as white as Eastern Europe, and they’re not even in the top ten of whitest states.

People use their smartphones significantly less

I would see large groups of girls talking to each other without having their phones out, which is quite rare in Washington DC. There were several points where I noticed that I was on my phone much more than those who surrounded me, making me feel ashamed.

No gays

I did not see more than two gay couples in four days, and the gays I saw were not overtly flaming. It’s almost as if I was in a homosexual free zone.

People are incredibly nice

While I receive more eye contact in a place like Poland, I received many more smiles here. In Oklahoma City, in the dead of night without anyone else around, a woman walking her dogs said “Hello” to me, a gesture that I don’t experience anywhere else. The evil part of me couldn’t help but think that people this nice could be easily taken advantage of. Maybe we can convince them to do all sort of crazy things in the name of “equality” or their own “safety.”

Very high social trust with deep social networks

nebraskasocial

Now I know why I’m not a big hit among men in the Midwest: my cold approach game would get you quickly marked in your town and ostracized. The best strategy here is to have a lot of friends and date the women in your social circle. Without a social circle in the Midwest, you’re a bit screwed when it comes to landing the best women, who get snapped up soon in college or even high school. If a girl in the Midwest is single past the age of 25, she likely has serious issues that make her an unsuitable mate. She’ll relocate to DC or NYC to try for a Sex And The City lifestyle of experiencing a few rounds of alpha male cock before she has to go back home a broken woman, lamenting about her fun days in the big city.

Obesity is a serious problem

People here are fatter than in the coastal cities, and unfortunately this has impacted the women. All the benefits of women being friendlier and not addicted to smartphones doesn’t matter much if she’s a land whale.

It doesn’t take long in the Midwest to notice that the food culture is horrendous: the most popular foods are fried and loaded with simple carbs and salt with hardly any vegetables. Even worse is that that carries over into the home—they’re not preparing salads and healthy foods in their kitchens. The food is tasty, of course, but it makes you feel like crap and also causes constipation because of the lack of fiber.

Men are more masculine and woman are more feminine

The men are heavily into sports, hunting, machinery, and hanging out with the guys. The women are more girly and elegant with longer hair. While Midwest women are not as feminine as Eastern European women, they do put out a more down-to-Earth vibe that is less snobbish. The only difficulty is that it’s harder to tell in the beginning of an interaction if a Midwest girl is sexually attracted to you or just being her normal self. In more stand-offish cultures, like Ukraine, it’s easier to know where you stand with a girl if she merely talks to you for more than a couple minutes.

It’s significantly cheaper

Washington DC is expensive. You get screwed not only for housing but for food and entertainment. The implied contract is that you work like a slave in your big city job that gives you a flashy business card so you can experience the finest distractions and colorful lights that mankind has to offer without ever being bored. That contract is a bad deal if you’re not a mindless sheep, especially when you consider that the bigger the city, the more likely a girl will participate in anonymous sex through nightlife and Tinder that makes her an unsuitable dating partner.

I’m not too familiar with the average salaries in the Midwest, but even if it’s lower than DC/NYC, the costs you experience there are so much less that you should still come out on top. Don’t let the big city lights seduce you: it’s a trap that inserts you into the rat race with very little opportunity to get out.

You’ll need a car

The Midwest consists of huge expanses of space. When a city wants to grow, it spreads outwards instead of upwards. This means you must have a car, even if you intend to live in the center of the city where the concept of public transportation has yet to catch on. Whatever the Midwest gains from the friendliness of the people is partially lost with the atomization of everyone driving in their car box for much of the day.

It could be a good place to raise a family

The place that stuck out the most for me was Sioux Falls. If I want to know what a “traditional” America looks like, this is perhaps the closest I’ll get (until I visit the Mountain West), though I would have to spend more time here to understand the marriage and religion dynamic. Yes, people are overweight and there also some corrupting influences, but I can say this with certainty: it’s less corrupting than a large Eastern European city like Warsaw, Poland. If I were to marry a village Ukrainian girl tomorrow, I’d prefer to live with her in Sioux Falls than Warsaw. This doesn’t even account for the fact that there are tons of towns smaller than Sioux Falls (population 150,000) that could be better for family life.

Conclusion

I’ll be the first to admit that my analysis of American culture mostly applies to large cities with high transient populations that have weaker social connections. If a man knows his neighbors and maintains long-term relationships with his friends from school, he won’t need cold approach game to meet a girl (he’ll just need game to keep her). But if he lives in a big, expensive city where he changes jobs and apartments frequently and where his friends move to different cities, he’s simply not going to have a strong enough social circle where he can meet attractive women, so he’s much more likely to find my advice helpful, which will be required just to get laid.

While Washington DC is a good place to generalize about American people since it attracts transplants from all over, it’s important to stress that it attracts the outliers from theose states. If a girl from South Dakota comes to DC to work for a non-profit, she is definitely not a typical girl from South Dakota who—if her sexual market value had been good and her mind sane—finds a good man to settle down with before 25 years of age.

At the same time you shouldn’t generalize about America from DC or NYC, our masters are using the same template where family and tribal bonds are being destroyed and replaced with dependence on corporations and the government. Most of you reading right now are from a Western city greater than 2 million people, meaning that the advice and observations I have for you mostly holds true, even if you’re not American. The fact that the advice I give to men is also applicable to those living in England, Canada, Australia, and even India is both convenient and disturbing.

Thanks to my trip to the Midwest, I finally understand why so many guys don’t understand me and often spout game denialist statements like, “Game is stupid, you just have to be a good guy and have some friends.” They say these things because they have a deep social network or are from smaller cities where game does not work in the same way it does in the big cities, or at least where it’s not as required to meet a girl who weighs less than 140 pounds.

I’m not going to change my advice to deal with small towns, especially since most of my readers live in big cities, but at least now I understand why so many men don’t see the point of what I teach. If only I was as lucky as them to grow up in a normal town with normal people whose minds aren’t addicted to the junk that comes out of New York City and Hollywood. Since I’m not, and since I continue to live in big cities, I must use game practices to sleep with women I desire, but now I’m definitely curious about other places in America that could be even better than what I saw in the Midwest.

Read Next: 6 Things Wrong With New York City

P.S. My newest book is called Poosy Paradise. It's about my three month trip to Romania in search of poosy paradise. Click here to learn more about the book.

The biggest regret I have in my many years of travel is not learning the local language in countries I’ve ended up staying for the long term. I would be more than conversational in Polish and Russian today if I just adhered to one simple rule: learn the language of a country you have been in for two weeks or longer. This means that you start your language studies on day fifteen of any trip.

Even if you’re doing a short one-month trip to a country, you should still make attempts to study the language for at least an hour a day no later than the third week. The reason is that your knowledge compounds over time to greatly increase your enjoyment within the country, making it easier to get around, make friends, and meet women. Every word you learn is like one extra dollar in an interest-bearing bank account. The more words you learn, the more you ability “compounds,” due to the simple fact that learning one additional word increase the number of new sentences you can speak by greater than one, especially after you’ve surpassed a vocabulary of 250 words.

I spent a year in Ukraine. During that time I only studied Russian for a couple months. I tried to make up for it by studying while in Poland to prepare for a long Russian stay in 2014, but I ended up staying in Russia for less than two months. If I followed my rule, I would have studied the language when I needed it (while living in Ukraine), and saved time not studying it when I didn’t even use it.

I have spent more than two years in Poland. I’ve studied the language for less than six months. If I only studied one hour a day while living there, I’d be at least conversational, but now I’m embarrassed with my Polish language level. I’ve spent enough time in Eastern European countries that I feel like a Mexican immigrant to the USA who doesn’t speak English.

The purpose of the two-week rule is to link language learning to time spent in countries instead of predictions or dreamy intentions of how long you think you’ll spend in them. You should put far less weight on studying a language before you get there than when you’re actually settled. I wouldn’t discourage your pre-trip studying, but it’s easy to make a huge misallocation of your time by studying languages for countries you don’t even end up liking.

I devised this rule based on a regressive analysis of my travel habits. If I followed it, my fluency in languages would match my actual time spent within countries. Instead, I have a mismatch of language fluency because I studied languages based on where I thought I’d stay in the future instead of where I actually stayed. I’ve learned from that mistake. Now if I’m in a country for two weeks, on day 15 I will crack open a book or hire a tutor and put in my one-hour a day. I’ll be better served by it.

Quintus Curtius joins me to discuss Brazilian girls and what they can offer men. We describe their general appearance, their demeanor, and what type of game will lead to successful intimacy with them. We share what you can reasonably expect from a 1-2 week trip there, including how much you will spend per day and how to stay safe in a country that has become more dangerous over the past decade. We also discuss if Brazilian girls are worthy for long-term relationships and marriage. Lastly, we analyze the direction Brazilian culture is headed, and if we expect a future decline in the women that puts them on par with American girls.

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Previous Podcast: Warning Signs That A Girl Isn’t Worth Your Time

I flew into Baltimore-Washington International airport in June of this year. After deboarding, I had to wait in line for an electronic kiosk to ask me questions I already answered on the paper U.S. Customs form I received on the airplane. The kiosk took a picture of me from what seemed like a one megapixel camera and printed out a slip that I had to give to the Customs agent. This time around, I noticed the slip had a gigantic X on it. I imagine they used a more subtle code in the past but the agents routinely missed it.

I waited in another line to be seen by an agent whose arms were covered in tattoos. Perhaps our government has generously offered ex-gangbangers the opportunity to turn their life around with a Federal job. He asked me no questions. He typed in a few sentences with two fingers, scribbled a code on the paper, and then let me pass onto the baggage claim. After retrieving my bag, I went into another line and handed off the slip of paper to the final agent. I already knew what was coming—I would get a secondary screening.

The new agent, also with tattoos on his arms, directed me to sit down in a waiting area. He yelled at an old Asian lady to take his spot at the line so that he could deal with me. He fiddled with a computer terminal for five minutes before calling me up. I handed over my passport but the computer system was down. He couldn’t get it to work. He was powerless to act and had to leave the terminal. Another agent, this time an Asian male with only one arm tattoo in cursive script, came to the terminal and got things working.

If you believe the propaganda, Customs and TSA agents are trained with advanced psychological techniques that can predict terrorism and other criminal behavior by identifying suspicious behavioral patterns. Did your left eye twitch at the same time your nose flared? You’re hiding something! Or maybe not, because the agents didn’t even make eye contact with me. If you asked them for the color of my eyes, they wouldn’t know. They followed the computer screen to know how to deal with me, a suspicious citizen who for some reason—probably terroristic—had decided not to live in the United States.

“Where have you been since you last left?” the agent asked.

I stated the Eastern European country I live in.

“Where do you live?”

“Same country.”

“Did you buy anything abroad?”

“A shot glass and a bar of dark chocolate.”

“What do you do?” he asked, still staring at the screen.

“I have an internet business.”

“What kind of internet business?”

“I maintain web sites that sell advertising and products.”

The IRS already knows what I do, so I wondered why Customs also had to know. Their computers must not be linked. A part of me wanted to resist the questioning. I wanted to say, “Why do you want to know what I do?” But I was tired. I was on the road for eighteen hours. Communist interrogators in the Lubyanka have long known to deprive their victims of sleep to weaken their will, a technique that the American military and spy agencies use themselves. I wouldn’t last a minute under a real interrogation.

And what if I did resist? The agent, who may have 8 IQ points more than a Walmart clerk—a quip that is sure to guarantee more secondary screenings for me in the future—would be relieved at finding someone he can exercise his power on. Will they confiscate my laptop for kicks or maybe delay my ability to exit the airport for a couple more hours? Even if I win the battle, the system would remain in place. The computer algorithm would keep telling the agents who to hassle, and nothing would change unless it came from the top.

I wondered if they were asking me stupid questions to get me to submit to them, to make me love Big Brother. No, that can’t be it, because then they would do it to others at a far greater frequency. They really want to know where I get my money. Some genius in the State department must think that criminals can be rooted out by asking someone for their profession. He didn’t even ask me what my web sites were. If I had lied, which would have been a Federal crime, how would he discover the lie without following up?

The agent typed for several minutes, far more words than than the dozen or so I said to him, before wishing me a good evening. He never looked at the stamps in my passport or examined my bag.

I’ve now had “secondary” twice in the United States. You’d think there would be some trust for a fellow citizen arriving to his homeland, but in a country where anyone can be made a citizen, and when your neighbor can be from halfway across the world, bringing with him habits that seem strange, such as cooking goat heads, trust is no longer possible. Soon everyone must be treated like a criminal. I suppose it holds true that no matter what type of prison you’re entering, whether encased in bars or open air, the guards are required to ask questions and check you for contraband.