Images of students wearing so-called "anti-cheating hats" during college exams have gone viral on social media in the Philippines, sparking amusement. She'd been "blacklisted" by the Russians, allegedly because she supplied villagers with food and helped them evacuate. irannews.ru/ - irannews.ru On a chilly winter morning in January 1990, I stepped off a night ferry onto a dockside in the city of Guangzhou. It was my first glimpse of China. The air smelled sulphurous from burning coal. Outside the streets were a river of bicycles, ridden by workers in blue caps and Mao jackets. Occasionally the bicycles parted for a wheezing bus or official car. The country was still recovering in that decade or so following Mao's death. Tens of millions had died on his watch - first from hunger because of his devastating mission to industrialise China overnight; and then in the violent, paranoid purges of rivals, dissidents, intellectuals and "class enemies". The word on everyone's lips was "xia hai" or "dive into the sea". It meant quitting your old job in a state company and plunging into private business. I remember the day one of our assistants came into the BBC office, handed in his ID and declared, "I'm off to Shenzhen", the boom city on China's southern coast. They also reportedly inspired schools and universities in other parts of the country to encourage their own students to put together anti-cheating headwear. But they never made it this far. Twenty miles on, a rusty watermelon monument marks the tide mark of Moscow's advance. Economic growth has shrunk to 2%, the lowest in more than three decades. China's property market is in free fall. Youth unemployment is running at around 20%. A trade war with the US is not helping. And anger has been brewing. He says the party needs a "unity ticket" in wake of the economic situation, and that there's no point spending another four to five days voting for a leader.