Every day, Nasrudin crosses the border with a donkey and a couple of panniers. After a while, the customs official is certain he’s smuggling something. He stops Nasrudin time after time, searches him thoroughly, but never finds a single item.
One day, many years later, he’s changed jobs and happens to meet Nasrudin by chance. “Come on!” he begs. “You can tell me now. It’s been driving me crazy. What were you smuggling?”
Nasrudin looks at him with great dignity.
“Donkeys,” he replies.
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