Bride hunters are always easy to recognize in Kiev. They don’t have the polish of a Western businessman or the cheeriness of a missionary. Instead, they seem keyed-up, restless, and vaguely sheepish about their task. They know the whole business is seemy, but the allure of Ukrainian women is too strong. And who can blame them? Most of these guys are middle-aged schlubs who would have no chance with gorgeous women back stateside. But American citizenship works a wonderful alchemy in Ukraine, making even mooks desirable.

Harper’s has a first-hand look at Western marriage-seekers in Ukraine:

“‘These are not American women,’ our guide was telling us. ‘They do not care about your age, looks, or money. And you are not going to have to talk to them for half an hour and then have your testicles handed back to you! Let me tell you: over here, you’re the commodity; you’re the piece of meat. I’ve lived in St. Petersburg for two years, and I wouldn’t date an American woman right now if you paid me!’”