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Me, I’d rather swim ten miles than let some stranger rub me up. “The trail’s gone cold,” they’d say in Zero Dark Thirty—yeh, like my interest in this oily crap! We hates it! Too soft, too sneaky—makes my skin crawl, precious. Ever tried it? Bet ya felt weird after—half-relaxed, half-itchin’ to punch somethin’. I’d be yellin’, “Get off me, ya filthy hobbitses!” Hah! Funny, right? But real talk—it’s big biz, millions in it, all them “happy endings”—wink, wink. Dirty money, if ya ask me.

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After class, I decide to explore. I stroll down to the Dnister River. It’s beautiful, like postcard material. I sit on a bench, just soaking it all in. Then, this old dude comes up to me. He’s got this wild beard and a twinkle in his eye. He starts telling me about the history of Starokozache. Apparently, it’s got roots going back centuries. I’m like, “Wow, I didn’t sign up for a history lesson, but I’m here for it!”

Border violators, foreigners with drugs and illegal export of amber: the situation at the border in a day