Psychologist Abraham Maslow in his seminal psychological paper A Theory of Human Motivation introduced the hierarchy of needs, which ranked human necessities in a pyramid with the physical fundamentals of food, clothing and shelter on the bottom. Why? Because without them getting to those other tasks, such as feelings of belonging and self-actualization, would be impossible to meet.

As a foreigner in a China context, the situation changes a bit. Food? Absolutely no problem. Restaurants here are omnipresent, affordable and delicious. If I need a burger or a hunk of Manchego, I know where to procure it. Clothing? It gets a little trickier, but as China's consumer market embraces Western outlets such as H&M and La Senza, you'll hear no complaints from me about where to buy jeans and bras that fit my American frame.

But shelter? Holy moly, there is nothing harder about being in China than trying to find adequate shelter. And I don't care who you are or how long you've lived here, until you've dealt with Chinese agents and landlords you've been pampered - think Roman senator being carried around on a litter being hand-fed grapes and cooled by slaves fanning you with palm fronds pampered.

My first experience was when I moved to Guangzhou in early 2008. I found a teeny, tiny box of an apartment, but I didn't care. It was my first ever apartment and I was riding high on the feelings of optimism inherent in new beginnings in a completely foreign place.

But it didn't take long for those feelings to be crushed when it become clear to me that Chinese landlords are a nefarious breed, and with the language barrier, trust, and dollars we foreigners bring to the equation, we get duped and then continuously manipulated even after we catch on.

Immediately after I signed my lease agreement, I was curiously informed about a 100 yuan security fee or guanlifei. Thinking it was simply an oversight when I signed on, I started including it in my rent, that is until my friend Cliff moved into my building and I found out that his guanlifei was a quarter what I was paying.

After having a Chinese-speaking friend on the phone with the landlord to explain the situation, the response was simple: If you don't like it, then you can move out. Great. So his guiding maxim was this: I am going to cheat you simply because I am in a position to. There is no legal recourse for you.

Once I decided to move out, getting my deposit back was an ordeal that took several hours at the agent's office, fighting over imaginary fees and bills concocted by the duplicitous mind of the landlord's smirky cousin.

I got a quarter of my deposit back along with sad looks and advice from a Chinese couple who were there seeking apartments. They told me: "This is not just because you are a foreigner. It happens to us, too."

I left feeling emotionally unraveled, morally dejected and incredibly pissed off that people categorically accept this treatment. I felt slightly better, having given the landlord's cousin the wrong keys to the door lock so they'd have to pay for a new one, but even that was little consolation. Even partial justice meant stooping to their level.

I'm not saying I've reached tenant apotheosis here, but having been here longer and become more proficient in Chinese, I've learned three valuable lessons because if you want to maintain any hope of becoming self-actualized while in China, you have to get this whole shelter thing worked out.

One, know your landlord. They have three months of your rent at a time and your deposit, so their strength of character is paramount to your happiness as a tenant. Test their generosity before you hand your money over. Otherwise, if you manage to get most of it back at the end, you'll be fighting for it every step of the way.

Two, taking over other people's leases is sketchy,

so be careful. Having assumed someone's role

in a lease, and not having asked the appropriate questions, I soon found myself at risk of losing my deposit and having to look for a new place only three months later when the lease was up. The house had problems that I had no role in and old bills that had not been paid that were now my responsibility.

Three, cut out agents if you can because they are not on your side. Agents are there to take your money, not to help. And when they do help, that help goes to the landlord, not you. You'll save money and eliminate an additional person you'll inevitably have to argue with.

In sum, here's what I have to say to the landlords and agents or anyone involved in this nasty business. The easiest cure for laowai dyspepsia and vitriolic outbursts can be cured by being fair. Try it sometime, I swear you'll make more money in the long term and what's more, you'll be spreading joy - not rage - in the world.