Well, cheap China is no more. Crowds of foreigners spoiled this country, once so inexpensive.

In the old times, sellers would run after you, offering lower and lower prices and begging you to buy. But thousands of foreign tourists started visiting China, and they are ready to pay any price for a piece of clothes, sometimes even as much as US$20.

Now when I'm saying the real price to the sellers, the price I want, they just say "no" and turn away. Turn away! They are not even interested in selling anything to me, since they perfectly know that in 3 minutes, some stupid foreigner might buy the same thing for twice as much. So why would they bother.

Alas, I really needed some new shoes and shirts, so I had to give up to these jerks - 60 yuan (~US$8) for each shirt and 60 yuan for the shoes. This is an absolutely impossible price, and still, I had to haggle for it for ages.

I haven't even asked how much was for all those iPods, maybe it was even more than US$30.

Next time I'll have to go to another city for shopping, not to pay to all those brazen Shanghai fatcats.

Bastards.

So if you left your umbrella at home, and you get suddenly attacked by the bright sun, you have to find something to cover with, and better find it quickly. Like a plastic washbowl, for example.

The first one is the door of the fire exit of a building in Shanghai. "Door is escaped with one's life in the fire fighting" gets an award for the worst Chinese-English translation ever!

The second is a Chinese brand of household stuff. Its tender name "Ebun" sounds amazingly funny for me as a Russian person, since it Russian "ebun" means "a fucker".

However, such a system is absolutely infeasible and would paralyze the whole subway: security checks in China, in fact, are nothing but decorations:

1) Nobody really cares about what you carry in your bag. Liquids etc. are allowed, unlike on the planes.

2) Body search is not carried out on China's subways. You can just carry any weapons or explosives on yourself.

3) Railway stations do have personal inspections, but the girls working there just lightly touch you one or two times, as if they are touching hot iron.

4) Chinese subways have a lot of places where the "sterile area" is separated from the public access area by just a tiny unsecured fence. One could just hand a bagful of explosives over the fence.

Even such symbolic, useless checks create large queues; if real security checks were to be implemented, such as those in the airports, the subway would come to a complete stop: too much time would be required to check each mass transit passenger. There is no way one could search all 7 million people using the Moscow Metro each day: less than a second for each passenger at each station. And still, even airports with their tight security cannot prevent all terrorists from getting on the planes.

The goal of security checks in China is to create jobs; the goal of security checks in Russia would be only to make profit for the security equipment vendors.

Street snaps of sexy ladies in Russia

Well, the Chinese boys and girls do indeed think that Russian girls are amazingly beautiful, unlike some other foreigners. It's not rare when some Chinese person shows me a photo of a Russian girl and says - she is really beautiful, isn't she?

Though I don't understand why they had to delete copyrights from these pictures (look at the bottom). A complete denial of copyright by Chinese government? Not to mention that some of these girls are obviously not Russian and the photos are made not in Russia, which can be proved by tineye.com image search.

Internet cafes in China are truly ubiquitous. And they're large, too - the one I go to often has more than 100 computers.

They price is as low as 3 RMB ($0,4) per hour, and that's downtown Beijing, so in other places it will be even less than that. Even if you don't know Chinese, like me, it's very easy to remember the characters "wang ba", meaning "internet cafe": the first one, with two crosses, depicts a net (network), and the other one is derived from the character "snake" - oh these snaky dangerous internets!

The cafes are very crowded - mostly young people playing online games. Minors are not allowed - oh, I remember how half of my classmates used to skip classes to go play online games in a place like this. Smoking is allowed everywhere in China, even in hospitals, so internet cafes are not any exception at all. So the dimly-lit place filled with cigarette smoke is more like a bar. There are some nice girls, too.

Chinese internet cafes require you to show your ID and pose for a photo, just in case you are going to organize a new Chinese revolution from a cafe. There is virtually no anonymous internets here: say, you can't connect GPRS on your phone unless you have a contract in your name. So, what I'm saying is that after you have logged in with your passport number as the login, you start thinking carefully before opening each page or posting something. Feeling so responsible.

At the login screen I was welcomed by a happy policeman with the eyes like those of that cat from Shrek. How can you not happily obey this sincere look? Well, monstrously huge eyes is the common style of drawing in Asia, but these do-good policemen are posted everywhere from my door to every other lamp post in the street. The subway, social ads, everywhere. Welcome to 1984! The big brother is your friend.

These standard sights in Beijing include the Tiananmen Square, Forbidden Palace and Mao's Mausoleum.

It's no use to tell about them again when there are millions of photos and thousands of pages of text written already. I'll just point out some interesting things.

In the 1990s, the Russian TV was showing a social ad with a phrase that became hugely popular - "Dima, wave your hand to your mother!" In this ad, a crowd of people was trying to convince a Kremlin guard to wave to his mother, but he couldn't - he was on duty.

Turns out Chinese soldiers guarding the central square of the country can even afford to drink a nice cup of tea, like the guy in this photo - see this Thermos cup to his left?

Another interesting activity is to try and find plain-clothes agents on Tiananmen Square. There's a bunch of them in Moscow, on Red Square and in Kremlin, too. One wrong step aside and they jump up to you - "Young man, this area is restricted".

For about 15 minutes I was watching a muscled guy who slowly walked in the square trying to look natural, sometimes taking photos of the same dull monument from different angles, and inspecting everyone around him with a professional look. He definitely wasn't going to leave the square.

In Mao's Mausoleum I nearly started giggling - when I looked at Mao's body similar to a wax doll (in fact, there is a wax copy of his body for emergency cases, so at any time you cannot be sure whether you are shown the original or a copy), a catchy internet phrase "That looks shopped" occured to me, and I felt like laughing so much that I had to quickly get out before I attracted attention of the guards. Indeed, the face looked like the work of a very unskilled photoshopper. I know, I'm bad, shouldn't laugh at this - even though Chinese people do not really believe too much in Communist ideology, their feelings for Mao are very deep, and it's definitely not the kind of personality cult you'd see in Soviet Russia or modern Russia - it's sincere.

Just in case, the Mausoleum is the tall rectangular building in the southern part of the square. We had two Swedish girls here who told me their story of horror: they didn't know about the Mausoleum and "just went the same way that everyone else was going", and ended up seeing "this corpse".

Later, when I was already leaving the square, I was confronted by a pushy granny selling warm hats and gloves. My mood being quite playful, I took out my own gloves and attacked the granny shouting "hallo! looka-looka! shi kuai!" (hello, look, look, ¥10!), waving the gloves in front of her face. The foe was instantly defeated and ran in dismay. I liked the effect and I'd recommend to use this method all the time when you come across these annoying guys in the streets.

Finally, the best of the sights near Tiananmen is Jingshan Park located to the north of the Forbidden Palace - the place that many tourists fail to reach (alas!).

Well, the thing is that according to feng shui (however much I hate the expression "according to feng shui"), the sweetest way to build an Emperor's palace is to the south of some hill. It also spares you of the problem with cold north winds. But when these guys built the Forbidden Palace back in 1420, they didn't have any suitable hill at hand. OK, let's just build one then, they thought, and they did - a 50-meter high hill made with just manual labour.

Having a hill in the middle of the city is so cool: you can see the whole ancient Forbidden Palace, and the skyscrapers district, and the one-storey historical downtown Beijing.

The results of this small walk are as follows:

Kilometers walked: 9

Taxi drivers told to get lost: 6

Fraud attempts: 3 — and all of the three wannabe fraudsters were men! I was so disappointed: earlier the fraud in downtown Beijing was attempted by pretty girls who were quite pleasant to talk with.

Photos of me taken by strangers: 2 - only two! I'm disappointed again. Earlier people were much more active in taking pictures with foreigners. Stupid Olympics, spoiled my country.

I noticed two types of these ad hoc doors:

1) Thick heavy blankets made of rough cloth, with a window. Looks very barbaric and unaesthetic, but you'd be surprised at the number of places where you can see this - from entrances to public toilets and tiny shops to huge "European" supermarkets like Carrefour.

2) Transparent plastic curtains, sometimes so yellow and worn out that you cannot see through them. This type is used everywhere, too, from small shops to modern multi-storey malls.

Sometimes I come across a mixture of these two types, such as at the entrance to Tiananmen West subway station - see the photo on the left.

Why not install regular doors? The answer, I guess, is that the cold time in Beijing lasts for only a couple of months, and these improvised doors are removed later, while regular doors would only add problems in the warm time.

Most of Beijing's downtown is composed of hutongs - very narrow winding streets with one- or two-storey houses.

Unlike most other cities, the business district stands not in the middle of the city but a little bit aside.
The hutongs are centered around the Forbidden Palace (Emperor's dwelling, similar to Kremlin in Moscow) and Tiananmen square (the largest square in the world). I'm living within the Second Ring Road, which is a huge highway with about 20 lanes. It repeats the contour of the former city walls that were demolished long ago. The ring line of Beijing Subway goes under this Second Ring Road.

Most of the subway station names on the on the ring line (Line 2) end in -men: Dongzhimen, Xizhimen, Qianmen etc. "Men" means "gate" - these place once were the gates in the city walls that provided exits out of the protected capital. Now most of the gates do not exist anymore and huge highway junctions replace them.

I'm living just a minute away from the Lama Temple, an ancient centuries-old Tibetan temple. Shame on me - even though I walk past it every day, I never walked in to see it.

To the east is the Russian Embassy. It is as large as a small neighborhood, with many residential houses and well-guarded walls. Russian Embassy in Beijing is officially the largest diplomatic mission in the world, numbering 1500 people.

My tiny street (hutong) is called something like "2nd Gun Street" - that's because the place I live in is a former gun factory, converted into a warehouse, then a prison, and finally, into more or less usable residential space. So you can basically say that I live in a warehouse or in a prison.

There's 4 bunk beds in my room. Unlike people who stay here for a night or two, permanent residents are all colourful characters, as if from a book, and deserve some notes about each of them.

Ivan. A Vietnamese Canadian living in China. Hides away from the CIA. Prints, reads and writes something for the whole days. Prefers to joke that he is a double agent when asked about his job. A huge fan of Russia, likes to put on a record of the Russian anthem or Putin's speeches. Hates Jews and likes China as one of the few countries in the world (the three others being North Korea, Iran and Russia) not controlled by the Jews.

Marjo. A hot (as she reasonably calls herself) Filipino woman, came to China for work even though the salary is the same as at home. Works as an English teacher at places that cannot afford a native English speaker. Devotes her free time to romantic internet chats. Tried to avoid her marriage in all possible ways and then ran away from her husband and her child - exactly what men usually do. Just like me, she cannot stay in one place and with one person for a long time.

Nathan. A typical foreigner in China - studies Chinese and teaches English. The only person here to have meaningful conversations with - partly due to being a native English speaker. Probably a Jew, so we have a nice company here: a guy who hates Russia (me), a Vietnam War veteran, a Vietnamese guy who loves Russia and hates Jews, and a Jew, the most reasonable person. Absolutely no tensions though.

Shasha. My favourite character in our little family, a charming girl from Hong Kong. Worked as a shop assistant for 2000 USD per month. After 10 years of working, decided to take a long break and tour China from Tibet to Harbin. Very successfully tries to resemble anime characters in her manner of voice and behaviour. Never stops smiling and shouting "bye-bye" and "hello" in a most "kawaii" way. I initially thought she was not more than 18, but she's 28. Keeps a backpackfull of ultramodern gadgets, just like a typical Hong Konger. Despite earning $2000, she can quarrel for ages with taxi drivers about extra 3 yuan (35 cents), and knows where to buy cheaper and how to fool vending machines - just like a typical Chinese.

Tom. An old guy from California, formerly a dentist. Jokes a lot and keeps talking quietly, as if to himself, trying to attract attention. Won my respect by admitting that he's a pilot - flies his own Cessna 150. Already purchased an electric bike and a motorcycle in Beijing. Being my age, wanted nearly became a hippie but went to the Vietnam War instead. Came to China for no special reason and for no definite period, just like the most of us.

What's interesting is that people from Mainland China are not allowed to stay in one room with us. And this place is not the only one with this rule. I have no idea why - it's either regulations or we, the foreigners, are carefully guarded against savage Chinese.

This little company of ours is just like a family - we're having dinners together, going together to see the sights, and learning more and more about each other.

It's not the way most people would like to live, but I like it and I'm probably not going to move any time soon.

Welcome. Welcome to City of Beijing. It's safer here.^[1]

I have to explain it every time when people ask me why I didn't take the direct flight to Beijing.

What I tried to do is to find a balance between the time spent in the air and the cost. I wanted to fly for as long as possible, of course.

I chose the Emirates flight Moscow-Dubai-Beijing, since Emirates is one of the best airlines in the world. And my domestic Russian flight CEK-VKO was with SkyExpress, the first Russian low-cost airline. The ticket was $380 for the Emirates flight and $70 for the two-hour SkyExpress flight.

The farewell that my Fatherland gave me reminded me once again that I've made the right choice. Rude security girls at the Chelyabinsk airport, shouting at passengers and trying to look like the kings of the place. Middle-age understanding of comfort and customer service.

A lousy overpriced train with rusty metal interior, cold, with wind and snow falling on your head from somewhere up above. That's the "aeroexpress" train from downtown Moscow to Domodedovo airport, Moscow's only airport of the not-that-awful class.

The train, costing you about $10, or 10 times more than a regular bus, hardly reaches an average speed of 60 km/h. Compare, for example, to Shaghai's similar airport train: 430 km/h, and no snow or wind or rusty seats inside.

Passing the border control is probably the most stressful experience for me. Every time when I stand in the line before the migration officials, I get sweaty, my heart beats faster, then I notice this and try to look natural which makes me look even less natural... I'm trying to think of answers to possible questions they may ask me, then I notice that my passport is wet because of my sweaty hands, and I try to fix this...

This time the threatening-looking lady, after satisfying herself by shouting for several minutes at some Muslims in the line, briefly inspected my passport and asked "Tourist trip?". Trembling like hell, I could not say more than a quiet "aha".

I crossed the Russian border. I was free now. My mood instantly went up.

My favourite Fatherland had another surprise for me, though. I naively thought that e-Boarding pass is OK to have, but I forgot that it is Russia, and all modern services that are claimed to be provided are never provided in reality. Despite being one of the first people in the boarding line, I was told to stand aside and wait until all the other passengers pass and my e-Boarding pass is "registered". This is a punishment for being too smart, I guess, and it was suffered by me and another techie-looking guy on the same flight.

Emirates, just like many other airlines now, has what is called "e-Boarding pass", besides the e-ticket that we are already used to. You register at home, print the boarding pass, get to the airport and go straight to the gate, without any check-ins. It also allows you to select your meal and your seat, which is especially great since I wanted a perfect view out of the window, not blocked by the wings or other passengers.

After consulting seatguru.com, the website that gives you the recommendations about the best seats on airplanes, I reserved my seat 42A on the Moscow-Dubai flight and seat 42K on the Dubai-Beijing flight. That is, the leftmost and the rightmost seats in row 42.

Boeing 777 is an awfully huge airplane, one of the largest in the world. It has about 50 rows of seats, 10 seats in each row. It also has the largest jet engines in the world - 3 meters in diameter. Imagine this: one such engine would probably not fit into your room. However, it is not as cool as Emirates' other aircraft, the double-decker Airbus A-380, which has private compartments with beds, showers, a bar etc. But this time I had to fly like on a Boeing like a total loser - no showers, no bar, just the seats.

So what's the deal about choosing seats 42A and 42K? That's because I really wanted to see Burj Dubai, the tallest building in the world, a magnificent skyscraper almost 1km in height. Knowing that aircraft can land on the runway both directions depending on the current wind, in order to see Burj Dubai out of my window, I had to either calculate the landing direction using the weather forecast for the wind direction, or just reserve one seat on the left and one on the right, to be sure that I'll see this 850m baby at least once. And I did. And she was amazing. The biggest wonder of the world indeed.

Dubai on the whole is a paradise on Earth. Even though little as I was able to see from the plane, the harbour full of brightly lit ships, the artificial islands with luxurious houses, the streets with palm trees and the futuristic-looking Dubai Metro stations (above the ground) made me realize again the power of money.

And so I flew from -30 to +30, right to the brand new Terminal 3 of Dubai Airport. It looks like a combination of ancient Muslim castles and modern hi-tech, with nice and big gardens inside, Arabic-style windows and, most importantly, free wi-fi. Free, unlike Russian airports, where you can easily spend tens of dollars just checking your email.

I never saw so many people from so many countries before. It was a true future: brightly lit, with thousands of goods waiting for you everywhere, and people of all ethnicities and styles. Indian women with stones in their forehead, Arabic businessmen in large white robes, Muslim women in all kinds of veils. That was also the first time I realized that Muslim dress may look amazingly sexy, unlike the western almost-naked clothes style.

Interestingly, the Internet authorities in UAE block Vkontakte, the Russian clone of Facebook. Social networks are deemed a vulgar phenomenon in Muslim countries. But even the Chinese authorities do not block this social network (though they do block Facebook). As Vkontakte is owned by Russian mafia from Saint-Petersburg, does this mean that the Chinese authorities do not want to disappoint authoritative people in Russia? Or they just don't know about Vkontakte yet?

Returning to the planes: Emirates boasts its meals - they make it look as if you're in a luxurious restaurant. They first give you a nice menu, and then serve their delicious meals, as if taken from a restaurant - something with shrimps, delicious sauces, wines, etc. They also provide metal spoons, knives and forks - another pleasant addition.

And yes, unlike Aeroflot, they never stop smiling and do not treat their passengers like some worthless cargo (hello Aeroflot!). That is why I'd recommend to choose this flight over a direct Aeroflot flight from Moscow to Beijing.

Emirates also provides you with electric sockets for your laptop, a USB port to charge your phone or insert your flash disk to read a PDF or listen to your own music, if you don't want to enjoy one of the 1000 entertainment channels in the built-in monitor - games, movies, music, cameras outside the plane and so on.

And so I went from one biggest airport in the world to another biggest airport in the world. That's right, Dubai's airport claims the world record for the biggest building (by floor space), while Beijing's Capital Airport, I think, claims some other "the biggest in the world" title.

In order to move around these enormous buildings (Dubai: 2 km in length, Beijing: more than 3km in length), they had to use some kind of transportation. While in Dubai they only have electric cars for the cops (and they race them at huge speeds around the airport, nearly hitting people), Beijing Airport has its own small metro (remember, the building is more than 3km in length!) and buses running through the middle part of the airport building.

The airport metro is completely automated. As far as I know, Moscow was also going to have a monorail line with driverless trains, but after wasting hundreds of millions of dollars they decided that they won't be able to do it and just hired the train drivers.

By the way, the airport in Beijing is not a bad place to exchange your money, you're paying just a flat $10 fee. Strict governmental control means no fraud like in Russia and Ukraine, where they try to rip you off by offering exchange rates 50% lower than the real rates (e.g. by setting the exchange rate as "1.097" instead of "1.97")

I entered the subway train and in 30 minutes I stepped into the cold but snowless Beijing. My 30-hour trip was over.

I hardly went out these days, and mainly I was just working, eating, sleeping and talking to others. Now I finally have a chance to have a rest and start writing here.

Those who are living in China will probably find nothing interesting here, but for those still unfamiliar with China something will be interesting, as I hope.

Now I'll post all my thoughts that roamed in my head in these 10 days.

Since the collapse of the Soviet Union, Russians have been troubled by a very delicate problem: how the hell should we address each other now?

The universal word "comrade" used everywhere from the military to friendly talks is now obsolete and you wouldn't call someone a comrade other than as a joke.

But calling someone just by their surname may be inappropriate, too, and some embarrassing situations arise.

Communist as it may be, it turns out that China has beaten Russia as to hating the C-word. Since 1980s the Chinese word for "comrade", tongzhi (同志), is used in its original meaning only in official political circles.

In everyday life, its meaning is much simpler: "a gay". So, before you call someone a tongzhi (comrade) in China, make sure to study kung fu first.

Indeed, a comprehensive 2004 dictionary contains 106230 characters! That's right, over a hundred thousand.

But do you have to remember all of them? The answer is absolutely no!

In fact, if you know only 100 characters, you can read 42% of an average text! And learning 100 characters should not be a matter of more than a week.

Then, if you know 1000 characters, you can read 90% of an average text, and if you know 3000 characters — 99,2%.

So, a well-educated Chinese person should know only about 3500-4000 characters. The remaining 102000 (OMG!) are historical or rarely used.

Study Chinese. You WILL need it.

This wine, called Huang Ji (yellow wine), is made of rice in Hangzhou, China. I've been in this place in 2007 and that's one of the few remaining things I brought from there.

The legend has it that this specific type of Huang Ji was buried into the ground in a jar when a daughter was born in the family. Many years later, when the daughter was about to get married, this wine was retrieved and consumed during the wedding ceremony.

Too much of a legend for a $3 wine though. Well, cheers to the learners of Chinese!