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ROSEBUDM
RON IS 48 YEARS OLD.
Twelve years ago, his wife of 10 years left him when the
couple found out that Ron was unable to have children. In
the difficult decade that followed, Ron suffered a motorcycle
accident that left him in a coma for four months and disabled
him for several years after. He also found out that his wife
had cheated on him during their marriage, crippling his
self-confidence.
But Ron is a fighter. He has spent the past several years
rebuilding his life, including a business that has struggled
throughout the recession. His social life is also on the mend,
but like most men his age, he’s found that dating can be difficult. He gained a significant amount of weight after his accident, and the years have robbed him of his hair. He has tried
online dating, but his height (approximately 5’5”) means
most women pass over his profile. Despite all this, Ron isn’t
ready to give up.
I’m sitting with Ron in a room at the upscale
Londonskaya Hotel in Odessa, Ukraine. He has just arrived
from his native New York and is admittedly nervous. Ron has
traveled nearly 5,000 miles with one goal in mind: to see if he
can find love in a place few ever venture to look. In industry
terms, Ron is looking for a “Russian bride.”
Every man has thought about it—either while reading
an advertisement in a men’s magazine, stumbling onto a
online promotion or cracking jokes with his single friends.
The question, of course, is whether any of these services
promising beautiful, exotic women interested in marriage
could possibly work. In our modern society, where dating
is difficult and the rituals of courtship are practically nonexistent, is there something to the promise of women with
“traditional values” who can appreciate the kindness and
generosity of most American men and leave their homes and
families in exchange for the chance of a new life?
Foreign bride services are a multimillion-dollar industry,
with millions of men signing up for websites like Loveme.com
and Russianbrides.com to see if perhaps the key to romance
exists far outside their local dating pool. A few brave ones
will even plunk down several thousand dollars to go on a
weeks-long trip to an exotic location such as the Ukraine,
Columbia or the Philippines in a quest to meet that special
someone. Rosebud decided to travel to Odessa to spend a
night with some of these men on a tour hosted by one of the
industry’s biggest companies, A Foreign Affair, to find out
what really happens when you throw caution into the wind
and take a leap of faith when looking for love.
Upon arriving in Odessa, I’m greeted by Bob Wray, a
Harrisburg, Pennsylvania native who is running the tour. Bob
began working for AFA about two years ago, after attending
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one of the tours as a client. A 66-year-old
retired Wall Streeter and the author of A Man’s
Field Guide To Dating, Bob exhibits more
energy than most men half his age. He quickly
starts to explain how the tour’s “speed-dating
on steroids” actually works. On the first night
in each city, the local team arranges a social
during which the 20-30 traveling men and 100
or more local ladies come together for a night
of drinking, dancing and mingling. The main
goal of the evening is for the men to meet as
many of the women as possible, and to make
dates with some of them that will take place
over the following few days in town. It’s sort of
like The Bachelor, only with translators.
Bob’s job is part tour guide, part
Casanova and part life coach, the latter of
which is a service more than a few of the men
on the tour take advantage of. As we sit down
for lunch, one of the clients (who asked not to
be named in this article) approaches Bob to
discuss the schedule for the evening. But the
real purpose of the sit down quickly becomes
apparent as the conversation turns to the
seemingly impossible task of finding true love
in just a few short days. Bob quickly calms his
charge with a well-rehearsed pep talk while
putting things into perspective: It’s just the
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first night, and the goal of the social is simply
to meet some ladies.
Arriving at the event hall where the social
will take place, the men are milling about like
the first hour of a school dance, chatting in
groups as the women slowly filter in. Some
of the guys are traveling with buddies, but
most are alone. A few confide that even their
family and friends don’t know where they are.
Almost all the men have been married at least
once, and their ages range from the mid-40s
to the upper-60s. About half the men I talk
to are veterans of AFA or other similar tours.
They are happy to give pointers to the firsttimers about what to realistically expect from
the evening.
A group of three fellas who have traveled together from Texas admit they have
low expectations of finding Mrs. Right, but
pragmatically explain that a vacation spent
in the company of hundreds of beautiful
women is better than the usual trips they take.
Other clients, both repeats and virgins, can’t
suppress their romantic aspirations, even
though they are aware they should manage
those expectations. One thing each gent makes
clear is that they aren’t here for sex tourism.
There is plenty of that available in Eastern
Europe if they want it. Their intention—while
maybe not completely pure—is to experience
something more than random encounters.
Soon the women begin to arrive en masse,
and it’s impossible not to at least contemplate
sex. Most are in their 20s and 30s, dressed as
nicely as their limited budgets will allow (the
average Ukrainian only makes about $300
a month). Their styles range from tasteful
to flashy, although 6-inch heels are almost
universal. If someone could build an accurate
attractiveness meter for crowds of gals, the
women here would gauge a few points higher
that those found at most nightlife establishments outside major cities like New York, Los
Angeles or Miami. At first, the mingling is at
a minimum, although I’m personally pleased
to see Ron be the first to step out onto the
balcony for a chat with one of the early arriving
women. After a little champagne (and endless
encouragement from Bob) all the bachelors
are soon seated at tables with several women,
making small talk and exchanging information.
In such a social atmosphere, it’s difficult
even for a journalist to remain all business. Being
at least a decade younger than any of the guys
on the tour, I’m quickly approached by many
of the women, some of whom ask if I’d like to
go on a date the next day—even after I identify
myself as a journalist and not a client. Speaking
to the women, the one refrain I hear repeated
is that Ukrainian men are too macho, and they
would prefer a nice, Western man. I ask several
if they would really leave their friends and
family to move across the globe if they met the
right man. A few admit they wouldn’t, which
leads me to believe they’re mainly attending
for the free food and drinks. But some confide
that they would take the chance in order to give
themselves—and sometimes their children—
a better life outside the Ukraine. One woman
I spoke with even made the move to America
once, with a man she met via a bride service.
It didn’t work out (he cheated), but that hasn’t
kept her from coming back tonight hoping for a
second shot at happiness.
As the night progresses, it appears as
though most of the men have found someone—
or someones—to focus their attention on.
Several of the recently minted pairs dance and
play silly games hosted by the DJ. Others are
content to relax in the warm summer air out on
the balcony. Groups of women who have failed
to secure a man begin to leave. They are soon
followed by many of the men, none of whom
are walking out alone.
I make my way back to the lobby of the
Londonskaya and share a nightcap with Rod,
another one of the bachelors. Rod left the
event early in order to meet up with a woman
he had been communicating with prior to his
trip via the AFA website. She met him at the
airport upon his arrival, and they spent several
hours together that afternoon. They planned
to get together that evening so she could give
“
AFTER BEING
WITH A RUSSIAN
WOMAN, I CAN
NEVER DATE AN
AMERICAN AGAIN
”
him a massage, the intimacy of which even Rod
seems unsure of, but now she’s not answering
her phone. Rod is clearly disappointed, but he
repeatedly mentions that he has several more
dates already lined up with other women in
the coming days.
Rod, an entrepreneur who returned to
his previous career as a truck driver during
the recession, is a repeat customer with AFA.
He was previously married to a woman he
met via the service, but things didn’t work
out. When I ask him why he’s returned to
the Ukraine, he calmly insists, “After being
with a Russian woman, I can never date an
American again.”
As we finish our beers, most of the men
begin returning to the hotel with one or more
of the women in tow. It’s almost midnight,
and most are there to change into more casual
clothing in order to hit up a club or karaoke
bar with the ladies. From where Rod and I are
seated, I have a clear view of the elevator, and
can safely say I don’t witness any of the women
going upstairs with the bachelors.
As I prepare to head up myself for a scant
few hours of sleep before an early flight, I
watch several guys and gals head off into the
night—the guys now in polo shirts and jeans,
the gals with their high-rise heels tossed over
their shoulders.
It’s impossible to say if any lifelong
connections were made on that warm Odessa
night. But at least it appeared that everyone
was having a good time.
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