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St. Sophia Cathedral, an icon of Harbin's Russian community, was built during the city's roaring 1920s. Photos by Christina Larson [China Daily]

Harbin restaurant manager Katerina Esmanovich looks up at the clock expectantly. A long table is set with a white tablecloth, pink flower bouquets, and yellow napkins folded into wine glasses like fans. The wedding party is on its way.

Dozens of guests have traveled from Russia to this northeastern Chinese city to celebrate the marriage of Margarita and Alexy, both administrators in a Russian-Chinese joint venture founded here two years ago.

"It's our first Russian wedding, and we're very excited and nervous," says the 26-year-old manager.

She takes a last minute phone call. The couple wants uncooked rice for guests to toss as they enter, an old European tradition.

Esmanovich, who attended university in the far eastern Russian city of Vladivostok, came to Harbin three years ago to found Timur restaurant.

At the time, the initial staff of three - a chef, a manager, and a director - worried whether the restaurant would survive.

Just 200 km from the Sino-Russian border, Harbin, the capital of Heilongjiang province, was once home to largest Russian population outside Russia - some 100,000 in the early 20th century.

The city was first built by Russians, who transformed a small fishing village into a commercial and industrial center with the construction of a rail line through Harbin in the 1890s.

In the following decades, civil wars in Russia and southern China drove many intellectuals and entrepreneurs from both countries to settle in the city, a relative oasis of peace on the banks of the Songhua River.

There they built opera houses, hotels and lavish churches, including the famous onion-domed St. Sophia Cathedral, which earned the city its nickname, the "Moscow of China", and testified to its vibrant economic and cultural life.

But the fate of Harbin's Russian population has fluctuated with war and peace in the region.

The Japanese invasion in the 1930s and the "cultural revolution" (1966-76) forced many to leave. By the late 1990s, most of Harbin's older Russians were dead, and the city's Russian community had dwindled to about 100.

Recent years, however, have seen a new influx from north of the border. Today there are about 2,000 Russians working and studying in Harbin, according to the city's consulate.

"There are more jobs here," says Sergey Eremin, a writer who moved to Harbin three years ago, "and there is also Russian history."

Eremin writes about the local heritage for publications based in Russia. He is particularly interested in a famous Whiteguard military hero, General Vladimir Kappel, who fought in Russia's civil war and died in Siberia, but was buried in Harbin.

"Can you imagine the effort in transporting the body?" he asks. His eyes grow wide, his voice hushed.

Soon, his attention is called back to the present. Another wedding guest is waving at him. "Excuse me," he says, whipping out a heart-shaped notepad. "I have to finish my speech."

The city's informal Russia club, which Eremin co-founded two years ago, had organized the wedding banquet.

Harbin is famous for its frigid winters - when temperatures dip below minus 40 C - but July days are hot and sticky.

The wedding party had spent most of the day carousing the sweltering city, making frequent stops to greet family and friends, a time-honored Russian tradition.

"They are probably exhausted by now," says Esmanovich. She pushes an unruly lock of blonde hair behind one ear.

Inside the restaurant, Russian and Chinese families dine on Borcsh soup, spicy sausages, Sauerkraut and beef skewers.

One reason for the restaurant's success is that it isn't a niche ethnic enclave, but a kind of melting pot.

On most days, 70 percent of the clientele is Chinese.

Today business is good. Timur draws many repeat customers and can afford splashy advertisements on the sides of buses in Harbin. But it wasn't always easy. Chinese and Russian palates are very distinct, and at first the restaurant struggled.

There were many sources of early confusion. "Some of our first patrons, after dinner they would ask for 'Russian girls", she recalls. "I would explain, 'No, we don't have girls here'."

Now she can laugh about it. "Today everyone in Harbin knows we are a classy restaurant."

Food aside, she discovered that both Russian and Chinese patrons enjoy live music and dance performances, the more extravagant the better.

"Many came for entertainment, or just for something 'exotic,' but discovered they liked some dishes," she says.

Esmanovich stands to attention when loud orchestral music booms over the stereo, and in waltzes the happy couple.

The bride's auburn hair is pulled back in an elegant tight bun; a white veil brushes her shoulders. The groom smiles brightly, attentively. The guests assemble around the long table. They holler especially loudly as the couple begins to kiss.

After dinner, the show starts. Two Russian dancers and a singer, draped in sequins and lace, alight on a raised stage.

They kick and cavort through traditional high-stepping Russian folk dancing, sultry ballads and Madonna cover tunes.

The common refrain is the audience's raucous cheering.

A majority of today's Harbin Russians are from the poorer eastern half of the country. Some, such as Esmanovich, have lived in southern Chinese cities (she spent two years in Shanghai), but new business opportunities lured them north.

Denis Pedyash is a PhD candidate in economics at the Harbin Institute of Technology. A native of Vladivostok, he has lived in three other Chinese cities.

"For me, Harbin is the most beautiful," he says, describing the colors of sunset over St. Sophia Cathedral, the green domes outlined against a pale pink sky. "My heart is at home here." Also, he adds, "I like winter."

Usually Russian wedding celebrations last late into the night. But tonight's revelers are tired from traveling, and the banquet begins to wind down before midnight.

Outside a wind stirs, lifting red rose petals and rice grains sprinkled earlier by guests to carry them through the streets of Harbin.